Friday, February 13, 2009

Friday 13th 21:00 Prompts

1 A sunless corner and a sad flower
2 Men are waiting on the corners
3 Sticking needles in my eyes
4 How light shifts and the air adjusts itself
5 Women are standing in doorways, something will happen
6 Oil to rub, calamine
7 Maybe and maybe
8 I thought of using Heaney
9 Over from Aust with the pigs and sheep
T Genitalia

1 If you don’t behave
2 Trying to dig up the garden
4 It’s just a thing men do. You don’t have to understand
5 Unopened, unsure
6 Not exactly Formica, a tablecloth
7 Dolly
8 Hedgehoppers Anonymous
9 The ATC we called it, Chipmunks
T Peanuts and an Orange

Evening Friday 13th Prompts 18:00


1 Some of us will build a temple
2 A yolk of light
3 I am not Henry the Fifth, OK?
4 Ding!
5 I have taken to wearing clothes to bed
6 I have wept some, and starved myself. Now what?
7 Mrs Jenkins’ Boil
8 I’m no prophet, but I think…
9 Marmalade, Dear?
T The difference between a story and a poem

1 It’s by some dead bloke I think
2 I said Pilla, not PILLAR
3 Occasionally I swell
4 Do I dare to eat a peach?
5 Will they sing to me? I think not.
6 The smoke and fog of matrimony
7 I see rings of light and hear wailing
8 Two or three, and a flower
9 Quantity Time
T It’s his Achilles Penis

Evening Friday 13th Prompts 19:30


1 April usually comes after March
2 I was in a word-crash, horrible, squashed vowels, dead consonants
3 The sound of a stringless cello at midnight
4 So I just sort of grin
5 Like two cats fighting in a sack
6 Flow
7 It keeps pinging, pinging, pinging!
8 I doff my hat to you, Sir
9 6d a cow, twenty pigs for 2/6d
T The smell of burgers in the square

1 Fried Fingers
2 Here is a head, at least that’s our best bet
3 He uses the word “Islamisation”
4 Gathering together where there used to be churches
5 Something for the weekend, Sir?
6 In the palms of my sticky, sticky hands
7 Jeremy-Jeremy has a girlfriend
8 You could be right but you’re not
9 Noon, and something strange is happening
T What I’m trying to say is fuck off

Prompts, Apology

There's has been an emergency planning meeting called tonight (they are threatening to build 1,500 homes on Newbury Racecourse, so I won't be around all evening as I hoped to be.

Will try to post a few blocks of prompts before that. Here is one block.


The damp corners of evning

Kitten, bed, shit

She's wearing blue again

And the evening spread out under deep red, purple

It's to do with chemical reactions

Let us go and make a visit

Here is the female fat from a diet of

The town has curled up for night

Which leads me to this question

and the slow smokes slides along the street

visions, revisions

National Murder Day

For I have known them all already

She talked out of the corner of her eyes

Then we'll begin

In dull lamplight things are crumpled where you were

And is it worth it, could it be worth it?

Someone is pissing my life, me, against a dirty wall

Cups and Saucers

They used to cut cheese with wire, just for my mother


After the books, the poems, the dried up glasses

I shall wear my sleeves rolled up, a hankie on my head

This is a small flood only

He who has keeps. He who has not envies.

This is what they mean to me, my friends

What does a violin do in its case?

We will go on drinking tea.

Thursday, February 12, 2009

Evening Prompt

There are no ferries on Sunday

Two keys, that's all


Scenes From a Revolution

Flowers kept her going just about

The A-Z of dying

Major Major

and chips

There's only so far you can push me, I'm heavy

a line in the sand

And they have a stature of Diana Doors

River, River

This is the future, my husband says

We have reason to believe you are employing aliens

Evan can wait

This is a journey

The VAT Lady is very pregnant

More Prompts for Writers

A set of car keys

Some sort of Ambush

Not seeking the front pages, not wanting to be seen


Kidnapped by Gypsies

The Story of Jemima Pinke.

He doesn't like apricots, or porridge

A Difficult Case

Birdsong, turn up the volume

Press Button A

It's only in retrospect we know

Something buzzes, something is buzzing

Picnic in Angola

All we do is argue about positions

I am clumsy, I am clummy

Counting and counting and counting

I smell her, they say it is cheap, I smell Tweed

Slate, nothing but fucking slate

as I walk to the phone, lift the receiver

Generation Kill

Monday, February 09, 2009


Now I can sleep on the other side of the bed

Where the victim finds her murderer

It spins because it spins

Flat as a witch's tit

Seven Ages

I like catching mice, the sound of the trap

He says, "When?" and his hands shake

Impossible breasts


I am in love with the milkmaid

There's this new idea, houses in rows, and rows, and rows

JC has organised a night out

My first, my second, my third, oh!

He punches in the code and something beeps

The dearest dust

World Death Day

The Ministry of Impossible Notions

Peejay & Fudge

I have heard the sound of unknown things

The Sin-Eater's Wife

Now it is wet. Last month it snowed

Lost Voices

Friday, February 06, 2009

Friday 07:40 Prompts for REAL WRITERS

I have Many Daughters

One Autumn Evening

And then, three times, it was denied

The Affair of the Clasps

Five went out, and they were laughing

Creatures That Once Were Men

We will bear it, without shame


He walked in the snow and left no mark


Sheep's Head Soup

Twenty-Six Men and a Girl

Out there, a crack, and then the noise fading


He saluted, shook his head, smiled and took the gun

Birth of a Man

My Mother, Dad, going to the Dogs

Going Home

Penis Pendulous


The soft moon floats above the hill, a church

The Hermit

The fire is dead, the ashes chilled

The Other Road

He's not yet dead, clinging against the sea

The Golden Ass

The smell of blood and piss in alleyways

Thursday, February 05, 2009

Thursday Prompts 2200

What's that?

Stephanie called

Personal Details: Please Amend

Please Note: You have NOT won the lottery


A good poem clears your vowels

The road is steaming

The dreams are now disallowed


The moving finger writes etc.

Oh, love and you so far away; my love I never spoke to her, but she heard every word.

The Fifth World War was very civilised

Imagine a perfect blue

Hold the Bones

For he's a jolly good driver

Story of the Week? You're 'avin' a laugh!

Think of me as a NICE Salman Rushdie

Bollocks, Balderdash

There is a tide in the affairs of man, when

Barbed Wire

The Sacrificed

Yonder, see the cows?

The Zebra Funeral

Thirsday Blast Prompts (2) 20:00


Twenty-eight pairs of white socks

a roar of dragons, rain

When I was young I would travel, but

In Town Tonight!!

At the moment of falling, before the ground

May was murder

A long-legged maid, and freckles, a twinkle

My sister and the boy with his temper

Cheese, Cider, God, You cannot choose when

Before I was a virgin

Richard Dimblebee

Wagon Train in black and white

Burned fields, next year

Before it passes, smell

Squeeze my hand.

Six horses, how many doubles, trebles?

Magic, just like 'at

If only now, he'd love it, all on the TV

Are there enough dead people?


The Air Force boy, magnificent, and the girls stopped

Thursday Blast (1)

Not where she said she'd be


For all the good it will do

August in Brittany

Yes, this is my voice, this is my face

They are Red Kites, see the tail?

We used to have big blocks of it. Sixpence, I think

Slowly the dust rises

Next week is a roll-over

Balancing on the Edge of a Word

An Evil Cradling

Mummy, Look! A MONSTER!

Forced smiles on a hundred pink-faced women;
Men is sports-jackets and open-necked shirts

My parents don't know everything

You can have a life, I'll have books

Midnight at the oasis

I regret a whole fucking lotta things

I'm fixing a hole

Dirty British Miner with his clean shop-steward

O for the muse of fire!

Sweet flesh but soured

Thursday Prompts

Somewhere towards the end

My father, digging, his ears red, his head

I think of you continuously, things remind me


The dull glow of miners' lamps, the smell of oil

I have nothing to sell but it's all half-price

Lovers: isn't the point that it's for now?

Hazard Warning

Blue, glorious, and through the white

Chink, slither.

My son went there twice but could not find it

I remember the ones I didn't marry

It's cold but warms up quickly

I woke up in a shop-doorway; someone had pissed on me

Various problems with invisibility

They are coming: I must paint myself blue

Persistent Vegetative State

The eggs not used, the eggs not used

In the not-too-distant-future, if all my dreams come true

Dogs, Snow

The sand slips away

My daughter, the barren one, sews by the oil-light

Wednesday, February 04, 2009

Wednesday Prompts

Like something has started dancing on your desk

This is the third time this week

Let me take you through it again

Your hair is wet, your eyes

Why not be a surgeon?

I'm building a seven-sided cube

There is someone, something, in the ditch

Tongue and Teeth

Stones scatter themselves, the wind rests then moves on

There are voices, ripples on the night

Faster and Faster. Faster!

Years ago when I was not old enough, I never thought I would be too old


We are walking to the North end

Nine out of ten humans when asked prefer

If I knew how, I would do this delicately

They are manning the barricades, the ditches

Somewhere, a woman is singing

No THIS is clutter


Life spared him. The others were lucky.

It is time to read out the charges

Tuesday, February 03, 2009

More Prompts and a Challenge

If you are a writer and occasionally drift in here, why are you drifting? Why not take the prompts below and actually WRITE something?

Blame it on the backlash

Revolving doors

Think about the chemistry of dying, of ooze

Wordless, wingless

Oranges and some peanuts

I don't think I'm living any more

I remember sunshine, grass, and books and dreams


Something sizzles

He has risen in my estimation

six billion and eight

Men are returning to their women

They said, "Do you accept the punishment?" and I said, "No."

Lovers, Lobster

Last night above the snow, the light was wrong

Mine is a small life, of small things, and smaller dreams

Beer makes me sleep

A donkey, a piano, an old church organ

She kept wasps alive for years in a thing around her neck

The 94 Bus

Various reflections on the male erection

My father was not a forest

The finger means what, exactly?

What matters is not what "matters", mattering is deeper