written and posted by members of Lancashire Dead Good Poets' Society

Showing posts with label apples. Show all posts
Showing posts with label apples. Show all posts

Tuesday, 28 January 2014

How do you like them apples?



How many apples?

Well? Do you know? I don't. There might be three, or four. Probably just one though. Apples are good.
One apple hit Isaac Newton on the bonce which caused the inspiration for the theory of gravity.


Sometimes ideas are hidden deep in the subconscious and need a jolt to get them out, sometimes they need a workshop to tease them out, and sometimes they jump out and slap you when you're in the shower all naked and vulnerable and don't have a pen and paper. Unless you do and water drips all over it and makes it splodgy.  Can't take the laptop in there, oh no that's asking for trouble with their electric funny business.
There are probably lots of different ways to generate good ideas, each working differently for everyone. I use a couple, a prompt or a challenge is always good.


Such as this week's theme, how many apples? Hey it might not be very good but I got a blog post out of it.

For a much better way of generating ideas come along to this week's LDGP workshop on Saturday morning at Blackpool Central Library, I'm sure you can do better than I have.

How many apples?

12:49:00 Posted by Colin Daives , , , , 1 comment
How many apples?

It took one apple,
To open our eyes
And gaze upon the naked body
Ashamed we run and hide

It took one apple
To say good bye
Leaving Eden to the dying faith
Of the lost listening to the lie.

It took one apple
To understand
The Agony of giving life
To a world obsessed with land.

I took one apple
To see the need
For the work required
So the people could feed.

How many apples will it take
For the same to happen again?
How many chances will we get
To stop the outcome being the same?

Open your eyes
See the pain
Feel the cold
Of the falling rain

Understand the shadows
Gaze upon the lies
From governments to peddlers of faith
Let no one be denied.

With closed minds we watch
As the guide leaves the chapel
I cry tears of hope fading

How many apples?