Monday, November 28, 2011

Playwright Story (Prompt: ______ Story)

I wanted to be a playwright,
as I fancied myself a modest god
who would make these players
do my bidding,
live out my revenge fantasies.
I aimed for
verisimilitude,
the illusion that it was

just like real life.

I wrote scenes of dialogue
and action
and characters
who all sounded like me,
but as a sheltered 16 year old,
I didn’t have enough material
to work with.

I’d create scenes,
situations,
snappy patter,

but I could never write
a proper end of a play,
and they would each limp
to their eventual final curtain.

Three years and
five plays later
I gave it up,

and went back to writing
songs
poems
jokes

temporary literary ephemera,

and I still watch
with palpable envy
and awe
when a writer pulls it all together
and finishes the story.

Now,
when I write “poetry”
when I am done with an idea
it just ends,
and I go on
to the next thing

just like real life.

2 comments:

  1. I know how you feel! Sometimes I have difficulty even finding an ending for my poems!

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  2. Heh, Buddah, I fantasized myself a novelist too. Two books out there. Truly good ones, but I don't have the name....no one buys things written by unknowns. Sad. Your plays, same thing. Now if you were Tennessee Williams, anything you wrote would be top drawer. I write poetry now too.

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