# February Challenge: "Free Will"



## Chesters Daughter (Feb 1, 2017)

The prompt for this month's challenge, as chosen by clark is: *Free Will/Volition*

You are free to interpret the prompt in any way you wish, though of course, site rules apply. If you are unsure of the challenge rules please read the 'stickies' at the top of the board. *Please note that all entries* *are eligible to receive critique in the voting thread.* 

*The inclusion of explanatory text or links of any kind within an entrant's challenge entry is prohibited and will be immediately removed upon discovery. As always, only one entry per member is permitted.

*As previously announced, anonymous entries have been abolished, therefore, entrants must post their own entries in this thread, or if you desire to protect first rights, please post your entry in the *workshop thread*, and then post a link to it here in the public thread. *Failure to do so runs the risk of your entry being disqualifie**d*, so if you require assistance with the task, please PM *me*, and I will gladly help you.

If your entry contains strong language or mature content, *please include a disclaimer in your title.**
*
Kindly make sure your entry is properly formatted and error free before you submit. You have a *ten minute grace period* to edit your piece, but anything edited after that will likely see your entry excluded from the challenge. *
*
*Do not post comments in this thread. Any discussion related to the challenge can take place in the Bards' Bistro. 

**Everyone may now use the "Like" function whenever they so choose.
**


This challenge will close on the 15th of February at 7pm EST. 
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## aj47 (Feb 8, 2017)

http://www.writingforums.com/thread...ee-Will-quot?p=2062128&viewfull=1#post2062128


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## sas (Feb 8, 2017)

.
*Laurie*

Something vibrant is always between her legs—
a motorcycle, a horse, a man. It’s never much difference which
as long as dangerous fast, ready to ride, whenever, wherever
her impulse decides—this beauty who chose to take chances
and died—with one beautiful and one cauliflower breast. 

.


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## The Defenestrator (Feb 11, 2017)

http://www.writingforums.com/thread...Free-Will-quot?p=2063045&posted=1#post2063045


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## Darkkin (Feb 11, 2017)

*A Legacy of Strings*

Legacy of Strings


Puppet, pieced and patient, staring out as a world falls away.
Frail fingers unyielding, porcelain cast from hell-fired clay,
grip tight to a rope woven from a tangle of damaged strings,
a rope dangling from a rough branched alder, gently swings.

A crossroad: Puppet, reality quake at the brink of a breaking.
A chasm, a maw where the sea has fled, possibilities waking,
as the heart of the binary implodes, death of an eclipsing star.
Newborn, a nebula cartwheeling, lighting paths near and far.

Puppet on the brink as a line in the sand is swallowed whole,
now is the moment, shattered, scattered, explosion of a soul.
Standing tall, two hands tighten, Puppet kicking its feet free,
that rope swinging, bearing Puppet outward in the alder’s lee.

Puppet two hands holding tight, heart pounding—Swinging—
High above the rift, a star’s collapsing heart, glory winging.
Supernova or a black hole that swallows Puppet soul and all,
which side will hold dominion over fate’s chips as they fall.

_Let go!_  Hands free of their tenacious hold, Puppet tumbling,
toes o’er ears, headlong into a moment infinitely humbling.
Biting cold, a gush of night rushing, a secret now revealed,
frosted tessellations tracing Puppet’s precious bubble shield.

Puppet plunging, gravity breaking as waves of stardust ignite.
Cold fire blazing, a shield hardens into a shell shining bright.
Puppet, now is the moment, fall and shatter or shatter and fly.
Porcelain lifting, small hands brought to bear, Puppet crying.

_Enough_!  A fragile shell of ice no match for blossoming rage.
Puppet’s hands smashed down, allowing a peak at a new age.
There, a pin hole glimpse through the heart of the dying star,
but how can that battered Puppet make it even half that far?

Fragile art shattering, scattering as two shells, meet and part
porcelain and ice, breaking, a black hole swallowing a heart.
Out of shells, severing strings, free falling, unfurling wings—
A lowly puppet no longer, but an heir to a legacy of strings.

Puppet, ride the torrent through the terror, the heart of a star,
following darkness on to all that rests beyond, falling so far.
Center gone, broken as within Puppet a quiet courage woke,
and with it subtle strength, Puppet’s unimpeded wing stroke.

A legacy of those tangled strings that taught Puppet to stand,
motions by rote, but a will no one but Puppet’s to command.
The strings were for learning not a leash curtailing exploring—
Puppet had to be the one to cut the strings, freedom imploring.


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## Nellie (Feb 11, 2017)

*Indiscretion*


A petulant bigot
flaunts an impulsive spirit,
his spontaneous resolution
enhances persecution,
masses disseminate
and boldly advocate
their conscious morality
against sheer blasphemy,
his logical intuition
a mental institution.​


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## Gumby (Feb 14, 2017)

My Entry


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## Chesters Daughter (Feb 15, 2017)

*Mr. Will Fried (Mature Content)*

Oh he exercised "it" alright,
and as the warmth of her waning life  
trickled down the hilt of his knife,
he adored his decision
with the same precision 
both her carotids were sliced.

Her identity was a mystery,
he need not know
his vic's history.
Such intel would not spare them,
after all, they were but sheep,
begging for slaughter
in a language solely grasped
by those who creep
beneath moonlit skies.

He hushed her final bleat
with a crimson palm,
and stared mesmerized
until the illumination in her eyes 
became but a pinpoint
that abruptly went out.
He then tossed her in a dumpster
as a snack for his rats, 
who knew to follow,
yet never attack.
How fond was he
of his little friends to the end.

Behind locked gates,
for public lewdness, no less,
during a stint in a sterile room
in a moment 
of fluorescent glint,
he gave his docs 
a less than subtle hint:

"You may medicate me
till I'm filled to the gills,
but no man-made med
can ever still my free will,
and evermore 
I will kill, kill, kill,
to quell cravings
I can never fulfill."

Yet after seventy-two hours,
they released the man,
and five minutes later,
and a scant two blocks down,
he put his will to use
and went to town 
on an unsuspecting lass
who would not be his last,
and he smiled,
for volition promised 
mile after mile 
of opportunity.

And when again sequestered
against his will,
he'd offer his captors
his theory 
on the uselessness of pills
which would again be embraced as a lie,
for his ravenous rodents 
left no evidence behind
to prove foul play,
absent flesh and gnawed bone 
well hides 
homicidal displays.

And once more his stories
would be deemed
as fantasies born
of an unbalanced mind,
surely he was not one of a kind,
or so it seemed.

How terribly tragic
they chose to be blind
to such a prophetic find

for the man 
had scores more
death warrants 
he personally signed.


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## Mutimir (Feb 15, 2017)

*Day to Day*

The sun touches my face
I awake, thinking to myself
Is there freedom?
Probably not
The alarm clock screams
Shooting my feet to the cold floor
Why now?
My feet say, it's so so cold
But my body moves
Of it's own volition
A machine beeps in the other room
Seeming of it's own volition
But that timer beeps, every day
The coffee maker brings forth it's mighty hiss
And I finally find relief
My nectar
My life
My true will brews
A self imposed prophesy
Black and sterile
And so satisfying
But only for a moment
Because time is not cheap
Time is like a diamond wrapped in gold wrapped in a baby's laugh
And I digress in a wasteful day dreamof a baby laugh
Nothing is free I think to myself
As I watch the hands of my watch tick


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## ned (Feb 15, 2017)

*willing to bet*

on my opinion, 
regarding religion,
'an agnostic' you're willing to bet

without sounding aloof,
the simple truth
is that I haven't decided yet

but, given the odds
and various gods
what have I got to lose?

I'll just have to pray
say, three times a day
to any god I choose

but, do I have the will
to follow the drill,
swallow the pill

and give a toss
to plant a cross

upon this barren hill?


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## Chesters Daughter (Feb 15, 2017)

*Secure submission by jenthepen:

Definitely Maybe*


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## Chesters Daughter (Feb 15, 2017)

This challenge is now closed.


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