MORE POETRY 7/15/19


Earlier poetry: https://howardcasner.wordpress.com/2019/06/30/poetry/

 

With more than a nod to Emily Dickinson

 

 

  1. There are many ways to write a poem,

A film, a play, a book.

The variations never stop,

With each their separate hook.

 

But life, the acts are all the same,

And everyone gets three.

We’re born, we live, we die, and then,

There’s nothing left to see.

 

 

  1. Though diamonds seem a simple jewel

When cut and then refined,

Their lives began as carbon base,

In time before mankind.

 

All great ideas are simple, too,

And just as simply gained.

With years and years to flush the pipes

Until the shit has drained.

 

 

  1. I write a line and then one more,

Pure artifice I know.

But if I labor long enough,

It gains a natural flow.

 

I try the same to lead my life

And give it shapes and forms.

But unlike art, the more I toil,

The more that nature storms.

 

 

  1. All writers are bulimious,

They vomit their first draft.

Is this the nature of the beast,

The way to learn one’s craft?

 

Digesting words, then throwing up,

Ingesting them again.

A psychologic malady

That’s only known to men.

 

 

  1. I board a bus, but where I’m bound

I rarely find I care.

I do it more to fill my time,

And cheap I find the fare.

 

But this is how I spend my days,

In truth and metaphor,

Waiting for the day I dread,

When I come home no more.

 

 

  1. The larks in exaltation soar.

Bold butterflies take flight.

Apes are shrewd, while jellyfish brood,

And bats decamp at night.

 

But what then is poor humankind?

What collective can they claim?

Perhaps a lack is there because

Crows already bear our name.

 

 

  1. Cautionary tales some say

Appear mere mockery.

They do no good when they are told,

But in post summary.

 

Yet still, perhaps, a fate far worse

Is suffering for your choice,

And someone says, I told you so,

In blissful, mirthful voice.

 

 

  1. His fashion is not fashionable,

In taste he’s quite antique.

As are his friends who wait with him,

An ever narrowing clique.

 

The younger ones who notice him

Just jeer and make their art.

They think that they’ll escape the curse.

But time, it has no heart.

 

 

  1. My pen is very petulant,

It does despair of ink.

It stops, it starts, it spurts, it halts,

All with a smirking wink.

 

Yet what I cannot comprehend

Is how it always knows

To die, not when my mind’s quite blank,

But when an idea flows.

 

 

  1. The world is warring with itself.

So man has write act three,

An apoplectic apocalypse

Our tour de force to see.

 

The universe indifferent waits

The curtain to ring down.

But when the stage is seen again,

There’s no one left to bow.

AND MORE POETRY 7/15/19


Earlier poetry: https://howardcasner.wordpress.com/2019/06/30/poetry/

 

With more than a nod to Emily Dickinson

 

 

  1. There are many ways to write a poem,

A film, a play, a book.

The variations never stop,

With each their separate hook.

 

But life, the acts are all the same,

And everyone gets three.

We’re born, we live, we die, and then,

There’s nothing left to see.

 

 

  1. Though diamonds seem a simple jewel

When cut and then refined,

Their lives began as carbon base,

In time before mankind.

 

All great ideas are simple, too,

And just as simply gained.

With years and years to flush the pipes

Until the shit has drained.

 

 

  1. I write a line and then one more,

Pure artifice I know.

But if I labor long enough,

It gains a natural flow.

 

I try the same to lead my life

And give it shapes and forms.

But unlike art, the more I toil,

The more that nature storms.

 

 

  1. All writers are bulimious,

They vomit their first draft.

Is this the nature of the beast,

The way to learn one’s craft?

 

Digesting words, then throwing up,

Ingesting them again.

A psychologic malady

That’s only known to men.

 

 

  1. I board a bus, but where I’m bound

I rarely find I care.

I do it more to fill my time,

And cheap I find the fare.

 

But this is how I spend my days,

In truth and metaphor,

Waiting for the day I dread,

When I come home no more.

 

 

  1. The larks in exaltation soar.

Bold butterflies take flight.

Apes are shrewd, while jellyfish brood,

And bats decamp at night.

 

But what then is poor humankind?

What collective can they claim?

Perhaps a lack is there because

Crows already bear our name.

 

 

  1. Cautionary tales some say

Appear mere mockery.

They do no good when they are told,

But in post summary.

 

Yet still, perhaps, a fate far worse

Is suffering for your choice,

And someone says, I told you so,

In blissful, mirthful voice.

 

 

  1. His fashion is not fashionable,

In taste he’s quite antique.

As are his friends who wait with him,

An ever narrowing clique.

 

The younger ones who notice him

Just jeer and make their art.

They think that they’ll escape the curse.

But time, it has no heart.

 

 

  1. My pen is very petulant,

It does despair of ink.

It stops, it starts, it spurts, it halts,

All with a smirking wink.

 

Yet what I cannot comprehend

Is how it always knows

To die, not when my mind’s quite blank,

But when an idea flows.

 

 

  1. The world is warring with itself.

So man has write act three,

An apoplectic apocalypse

Our tour de force to see.

 

The universe indifferent waits

The curtain to ring down.

But when the stage is seen again,

There’s no one left to bow.

POETRY


More poetry https://howardcasner.wordpress.com/2019/07/15/more-poetry-7-15-19/

 

With more than a nod to Emily Dickinson

 

  1. Theories are theoretical

Until they become facts.

None thought that Newton’s apple fell

Because a force attracts.

 

But gravity cannot be seen,

And save the truly dense,

What once was deemed fantastical

Is now plain common sense.

 

 

  1. The bad sleep well, or so we’re told.

But that’s bad news for me.

For through the night I never stir,

And dream unceasingly.

 

And there are those who live like saints

Who cannot close an eye.

Perhaps the truth’s irrelevant

Since all that’s born must die.

 

 

  1. Love is a thing that makes no sound.

It can’t be heard or seen.

It leaves no odor in its wake,

In taste it is quite mean.

 

It can be felt, but not by hand.

It’s quite nonsensical.

And still it shines against man’s will

The brightest, sparkling jewel.

 

 

  1. A seed, a root, a tree, a fruit

And then begin again.

The logic’s indisputable,

But ‘tis the same for men?

 

We’re born, we are, we die, and yet,

No matter what we leave,

We know we are not seed or tree,

And for all that we grieve.

 

 

  1. In a dictionary we find “life”

And a meaning that is clear.

But textbooks cannot rob us of

The subtext that is fear.

 

We make up meaning as we go.

But improv can’t improve

An essence that’s quite meaningless

And a God who will not move.

 

 

  1. A simple song is quite complex.

Amateurs won’t agree.

They’ll swear ornaments are the goal,

As on a Christmas tree.

 

Professionals who tread this path

Create a different way.

They clear the clutter and the trash

Letting essence lead the way.

 

 

  1. I long to travel far from home,

But life does not allow.

My fortunes are not fortunate,

And will not tell me how.

 

I only have a few years left

‘Til behind my back I know,

There’re those who say, “he’s all dressed up,

And no place left to go.”

 

 

  1. Birds sing sweetly, but do they know

The lyrics that they share?

They warble to find love and mate,

But are they self aware?

 

The universe is beauty, too.

And some there are who claim,

This beauty is a song as well,

Though no one knows its name.

 

 

  1. My walk grows worn with every morn,

New cracks and weeds appear.

And though they promise to repair,

Their voices suggest fear.

 

Roads, too, grow shorter with each sun.

Yet none can tell me why

It takes twice long to tread them now.

They only pray and sigh.

 

 

  1. My house is crumbling, it will not last.

Leaky roof tiles lead the way.

The bricks break easily to the touch

As walls and beams decay.

 

I soon shall have a stouter home,

Perhaps of solid oak,

Where I will sleep til all time ends,

And ne’er shall be awoke.

 

 

  1. I search for signs from set to dawn

And search again at day.

I find all that I wish to see,

But none have aught to say.

 

Do signs exist in present time,

Or only in past tense?

Are they created for our worth?

Or profound coincidence?

 

 

  1. There’s little left that I can do,

E’en less time left to do it.

Late years speed faster every day

And time is no match to it.

 

The race is forfeit, it can’t be won.

And such is fact for all.

We lost the bout by being born,

Then by learning to crawl.

 

 

  1. The life I lead, I do not lead.

No power can I see,

Except of what I think I have

Which does no good for me.

 

Illusion is all we have of choice,

Or is that delusion, too?

If I could choose to say farewell,

Is not death long o’er do?

 

 

  1. The tales I tell are nowhere true,

Yet indisputably real.

Since facts say little about life

And serve but to conceal.

 

Truth is but an invisible fact

That few can see or feel.

And t’would not matter if they could

If rung with an angel’s peal.

 

 

1. The sun and moon divide the sky

As though in partnership.

But one speaks not the other one

And continue on their trip.

 

If they could talk, what would they say?

I think I’ll hypothesy.

I’m bored, I’m tired, I hate my work,

Switch places or I’ll die.

 

 

TOP OF THE WORLD, MA: THE MOST IMPORTANT MOVIES EVER MADE


Check out my Script Consultation Services at http://ow.ly/HPxKE. I offer several types of service. Testimonials can be found at the blog entry.

Ever wonder what a reader for a contest or agency thinks when he reads your screenplay?  Check out the second edition of my screenwriting book, More Rantings and Ravings of a Screenplay Reader published on Amazon at https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07GD1XP9Y

Finally, I have published two collections of short stories, The Starving Artists and other stories, https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07FS91CKJ and The Five Corporations and the One True Church and other stories, https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07KY5Z3CF

     Though my blog entries of late have focused mainly on various screenwriting issues, this new one may not feel of immediate significance to those who ply the cinematic trade.
     And I can’t say such naysayers are wrong.
     But it’s an essay I’ve wanted to write for some time now. It may not tell you how to write a screenplay, but it may give you some insight into the history of film and where we came from and perhaps where we are going.
      The topic, as the title suggests, is a list of the most important films ever made. Continue reading

LOGLINES AND TITLES AND BEARS, OH MY!


Check out my Script Consultation Services at http://ow.ly/HPxKE. I offer several types of service. Testimonials can be found at the blog entry.
Ever wonder what a reader for a contest or agency thinks when he reads your screenplay?  Check out the second edition of my screenwriting book, More Rantings and Ravings of a Screenplay Reader published on Amazon at https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07GD1XP9Y
Finally, I have published two collections of short stories, The Starving Artists and other stories, https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07FS91CKJ and The Five Corporations and the One True Church and other stories, https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07KY5Z3CF

 

     This is the latest entry in my blog essays on various screenwriting topics. These are mainly inspired by postings on various facebook sites. This one is inspired by numerous postings that I personally believe give the wrong idea when it comes to the above-referenced issues.
     However, before I begin I should mention and it should be noted that based on the postings I continuously run across, I am very much an outlier in my opinions. So take this into consideration as you read.
     When it comes to loglines, the main issue I disagree with is when someone says that you have to have a logline that will make whoever (agent, manager, producer, director) want to read your script. That they are compelled to read it, that the fate of the world, the very life of their first born, will depend upon it.  Continue reading

EVERYTHING YOU ALWAYS WANTED TO KNOW ABOUT SCREENWRITING CONTESTS* BUT WEREN’T AFRAID TO ASK


For questions: hcasner@aol.com
First, a word from our sponsors: My short film 8 Conversations in 15 Minutes 58 Seconds will premiere at STUFF, the South Texas Underground Film Festival on January 27th, 2019 http://www.stuftx.org/
Check out my Script Consultation Services at http://ow.ly/HPxKE. I offer several types of service. Testimonials can be found at the blog entry.
Ever wonder what a reader for a contest or agency thinks when he reads your screenplay?  Check out the second edition of my screenwriting book, More Rantings and Ravings of a Screenplay Reader published on Amazon at https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07GD1XP9Y
Finally, I have published two collections of short stories, The Starving Artists and other stories, https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07FS91CKJ and The Five Corporations and the One True Church and other stories, https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07KY5Z3CF

 

 

For my next blog entry, I will address an issue that appears every once in a while on Facebook screenwriting pages. This entry is especially prompted by two posts: one wanting to know all about contests and one wanting to know how much credence to give to coverage or feedback from a screenplay competition. I will do my best to address the former and will definitely share my opinion on the latter.
In addition, on Facebook I gave people the opportunity to ask questions for me to cover here and I will do my best. I am also open to further questions.
I should start out with a caveat. I am an unsuccessful screenwriter. I was paid to write a screenplay that never got made and I revised another that was shot and never made into or out of post production, so from a purely technical point of view, I suppose I am a professional screenwriter, though I don’t really consider myself so. However, in my favor, since moving to LA in 2002, I have made much of my living doing script coverage and reading for several competitions. So I do have some background when it comes to the topic. Continue reading

EXPOSITION: CAN’T WRITE WITH IT, CAN’T WRITE WITHOUT IT or YADDA, YADDA, YADDA…THE END


For questions: hcasner@aol.com

First, a word from our sponsors: My short film 8 Conversations in 15 Minutes 58 Seconds will premiere at STUFF, the South Texas Underground Film Festival on January 27th, 2019 http://www.stuftx.org/

Check out my Script Consultation Services at http://ow.ly/HPxKE. I offer several types of service. Testimonials can be found at the blog entry.

Ever wonder what a reader for a contest or agency thinks when he reads your screenplay?  Check out the second edition of my screenwriting book, More Rantings and Ravings of a Screenplay Reader published on Amazon at https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07GD1XP9Y

Finally, I have published two collections of short stories, The Starving Artists and other stories, https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07FS91CKJ and The Five Corporations and the One True Church and other stories, https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07KY5Z3CF

 

     Exposition seems to bring out the worst in screenwriters. I don’t mean how they use it when putting fingers to keyboard, but how they talk about it. The way some of them go on…and on…and on about it, one would think using exposition is worse than child molesting and will damn you to hellfire for all eternity…or longer.

But have no fear. In the real world, exposition is nothing to be afraid of. In fact, exposition can be your friend. You will not only invariably use it in your screenplays, you will quite possibly use it multiple times…and not once grow hair on the palms of your hands.

In fact, exposition is just about unavoidable. It’s just a fact of the writing life. Continue reading