Fan-Poetry: Megatron and Starscream

starscream megatron 1

 

Megatron’s Poem to Starscream 

I will not cry.
Because I cannot.

I feel your mocking voice
Waiting
For any weakness
I will hold onto your poltergeist
Because it’s easier to grab
Than ash

But it’s not weak
To admit
I miss you.

I can scream
Because I know you did
And I will scream
Because you no longer can.

And Silence broke us apart.

Is it too late to say

I love you.

Is it too late to say

Goodbye?

(written 2011)

Based on this clip:

 

 

images (4)

Starscream’s Poem to Megatron 

You held my hand as we watched my brothers bleed to death

You held my heart and beat me with my loyalty

I’ve never hated anyone this much

So I’m going to pretend what I feel is love

 

You’ll see him in me, eventually

I’ll pull my punches and let that kill you

 

(written 2014)

 

AN: I decided to go with something a little different this week as well. These are two fan poems I wrote for Transformers, specifically Megatron and Starscream.  Enjoy!

Jazzy: A Tanka Poem

White dog, brown poopy

The squirrel watches intently

I sit inside

Thinking about garbage eaten

My friend, that is not a nut.

Photo0022.

(The inspiration for the poem)

I decided to try something a little bit different. I learned Tanka poetry at When Words Collide and I thought I’d share something a bit funnier than my usual fare. Like? Dislike? Comment.

 

The Future of Poetry: An Interview.

Then at the same time, I think subconsciously people have come to distrust language and what it can do—the main problem of post-War literature: how to use language to convey a meaning when it’s been absolutely and irrevocably abused to almost successfully destroy whole groups of people. What do we do with that? Moving forward in time, we’re watching more and more of the manipulation that goes into things like political speeches, memes, articles about nutrition or lifestyle (an example that comes to mind is the title of the article “Lay off the Almond Milk, You Ignorant Hipsters”) and even kids’ shows (we’re told at the beginning of “Ni-Hao, Kai-Lan,” for example, exactly what our kids are going to learn in this show—emotional intelligence, or problem-solving). We’re so cognizant (and yet at the same time very incognizant, of course) of language and its uses in controlling or teaching us. And we get questions all the time about why poetry exists if songs are just words set to music—how can we trust something built entirely on language?

-Gale Marie Thompson

 

This is a beautiful interview about the place of poetry in today’s world. I encourage all of you to give it a look.

http://www.thereviewreview.net/publishing-tips/future-poetry-dialogue-between-rob-macdonald

 

-Kelsey J. 

Instinct.

I hear people say
That we are instinct
Nothing else

Like instinct is a taxi driver from hell
Taking us where we pay it to go

I look into the eyes
Of murderer,
The rapist,
The scum of humanity’s constructs
If I believe they run on instinct
There’s not much hope for the rest of us

I think
Instinct is just an excuse
So we don’t have to figure out
What really makes us tick
And chime.

Wooden Angels.

I am carved
Like a Christmas turkey
Or a slab of soapstone.
Decorated
Like it means something to me
And shining
Like I can stand the light
Or face the day.

If I could move
I would run like a deer
Without the grace
If I could feel
Anything but the straps of my high heels
Carving up my ankles.
I would dream.

To the day I lay to rust
I will be tied like a turkey
To this role I shouldn’t play.
Eventually
Either the water will get me
Or the wood.

Coronis

To Coronis.

I won’t be the only one eating crow.

 

Tell him I said “Bang! Bang!”

Because I like that more than arrows like the arrows of Eros that shot me through the spine.

Yeah, I want you to feel this eke out of you like the sun eking out from the clouds

I want you to feel it like my heart felt, being plucked out by a raven.

This is it princess.

I’m going to lay you down on a bed of hyacinths,

Play you out

On a fitting instrument.

 

(Baby, I don’t mean it all. I just mean most of it)

 

I should have seen this coming.

They all run like mice from the feline, like locusts from the spider.

You should have seen this coming,

My cheeks are stained with crimson sunburns.

I am the leopard, I am the widow.

I slay my emotions like they were a dragon made of miasma

And run an arrow through.

 

Just let me know if there’s something worth saving before the sun catches up with you.