mi6-cafe

[mi6-cafe]

007 Fest Poetry Table: Acrostic

Resting bitch face hides how Each loss burns like the first. Guilt accomplishes nothing. Remain resolute and persist despite Exhaustion from the effort not To weep for what cannot be changed.

#MI6CafeChallenge #Poetry Month

[mi6-cafe]

Q when thinking about Mallory…

And This Finishes Fest For me

#MI6CafeChallenge #Poetry Month

[mi6-cafe]

Bredlik: Slep

My name is Q

And wen its time

Or wen my tec

Shine too brite

I leave the lab

To search for bed

I tak the tube

I rest my hed

I fall aslep

I mis my stop

Oh mi god

I think I'm lost

#MI6CafeChallenge #Poetry Month

[mi6-cafe]

It’s WIP Wednesday!

Post a line or three from a current WIP, and then tag @mi6-cafe so we can find and reblog it!

OR you can reblog this post with your WIP excerpt!

All ships, fandoms, and WIPs are welcome.

#MI6CafeWIPWednesday

[mi6-cafe]

Closing Fest Poetry, inspired by a quote by Stephen King.

#MI6CafeChallenge #Poetry Month

[mi6-cafe]

i carry your gun with me (i carry it by my heart)

For the @mi6-cafe poetry month:

After leaving his personal statement in a Komodo dragon nest, Bond starts to send Q unconventional not-quite-apologies. Q would rather he returned his kit.

(From a WIP covering Skyfall, Spectre and NTTD. Q is in italics, Bond is in bold, *links to adapted sources are at the end.)

A labour of love 

Smoking and bullet ridden 

Unforgivable

–

Remember the time you Q Branched my car and I destroyed it?

I thought you'd kill me...

But you didn't.

————— 

God damnit, Bond. I'd consider it a personal favour if you returned the DB10 unscathed.

–

Three million pounds

Please bring it back in one piece

Tiber's getting dredged

–

Wherever I am, there's always Q,

There's always Q and Me.

Whatever I do, he says not to… *

–

Flying aside, I trust you made it home without incident

–

There once was a boffin named Q

Who never once said that'll do

His inventions are loud

They can sure part a crowd

Now tell me if you got back to HQ – please

–

Answer the damn question, Q – are you all right? 

–

Landed fine, job's on

The line – as per usual

Sorry, been busy

Also:

I really, really

            unbelievably    

            deeply           

         still

hate you right now 

–

So wherever I am, there's always Q,

There's always Q and Me.

"What would I do?" I said to Q,

"If it wasn't for you," and Q said: "True,

It isn't much fun for One, but Two,

Can stick together," says Q, says he.

"That's how it is," says Q. *

–

See above.

————— 

A reprise:

A labour of love 

Smoking and bullet ridden 

Same car, same story

–

Smoking and bullet-ridden car

Or myself?

Regretfully

Rather it than me

You and yours saved my life yet again 

–

Majestic lines and an

Engine that purred

Turned to fragments and hulking scrap

Only you, Bond

Overtime awaits

(I am sorry, Bond, and not just about the car)

–

What happens to a dream deferred?

…Usually it explodes *

————— 

Enjoy Jamaica

–

Hauled away for scrap

Rusting on a beach somewhere

Whiskey soaked – been worse

(Have you got eyes on me? Does M know?)

–

I'll take your silence as a no. Thank you, Q

————— 

An unexpected 

Visitor brings a poor gift

Another fine mess

–

Thank you for dinner

Great food, odd cats, grumpy host

Four out of five stars

–

Leave my cats alone or you're on the streets tonight.

–

My most sincere apologies 

————— 

Bond, where are you? I know you know where Dr Swann is, let me help you.

–

Bond?

–

James, please.

–

I'll contact you soon

————— 

Thank you for everything, Q

–

i carry your gun with me (i carry it by

my heart) i am never without it (anywhere

i go it goes, my dear; and whatever is done

by only me is your doing, my darling) 

                         i fear           

                         no fate *

————— 

But You Didn't, Merrill Glass 

Remember the time you lent me your car and I dented it?

Us Two, A A Milne

Wherever I am, there's always Pooh,

There's always Pooh and Me.

Harlem, Langston Hughes

What happens to a dream deferred?

i carry your heart with me, e. e. cummings

i carry your heart with me (i carry it in

my heart) i am never without it

#MI6CafeChallenge #Poetry Month

[mi6-cafe]

0017 End of Fest Poetry Report :

I Loved My Friend

(600 words) by notesofbergamot

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Relationships: James Bond/Q

Characters: Q (James Bond)

Additional Tags: No Time to Die (2021) Spoilers, No Time to Die (2021) Compliant, One-Sided Attraction, Alcohol, Q is in mourning, Pining, Angst

Summary:

Inspired by “Poem” by Langston Hughes. Q spends a night drinking and thinking about what he lost and what he could have had.

#MI6CafeChallenge #Poetry Month

[mi6-cafe]

The Ballad of 007 and Q

Not long ago, for our story anyway,

There were two clever men

Back and forth, exchanging quips in play

The older one wished for an exploding pen.

James Bond was the elder of the two,

Though still strong in his prime.

He was a spy, to England true,

Able to take down Lords of Crime.

His name was legend, especially abroad,

A secret whispered by those wanting to hide.

Some enemies saw him and were awed

Others never had a glimpse before they died.

But he had a secret, one only he knew.

He was growing weary of his work.

Perhaps he was burning out, could be true,

Hard to tell behind his trademark smirk.

He was contemplating retirement

Or drinking himself to an early grave:

This “blunt instrument,” trained to be violent,

This world renowned scoundrel, this knave…

Until one day, arriving at Six

Expecting old Boothroyd for his kit

Whom did he find, with a bag of tricks,

But a skinny boffin, wearing a sweater of knit.

He stared at Bond for a second

Gaze impassive and hazel eyes clever,

Then he took out a handgun, beckoned,

And Bond sauntered over at his leisure.

Closer to the man, Bond could see

Just how wavy his hair was.

A tousled mop, untamed, free.

He wanted to touch… just because.

Bond noticed the eyes again,

Hazel and sharp behind the glasses

That framed his face. Eyes like rain

Over the moors- they were hardly passive.

In a few short moments, this man showed Bond

More about his tech than old Boothroyd ever had

And then, in a shock to the older blond,

The young man said he was the new Q. This LAD.

He was too young, Bond immediately said,

Barely out of nappies. How could this be?

But the new Q smirked, and instead

He wished Bond well, and sipped his tea.

Over the next few missions, Bond came to find

That this scrawny Boffin, this new Q

Had the single most brilliant mind

Of the entire Six crew.

So each time he returned to Six

Bond found his way down

Returning his broken bag of tricks

Just to then tease Q’s frown.

And as time passed, they grew closer

Spending more time together at work.

Bond would nap, no gun in his holster

While Q tinkered, each design a new quirk.

Soon the agent came to find

That the new Q would forget to eat

So Bond started returning cleverness in kind

Bringing food to Q, the occasional treat.

Meals turned into more shared space

As Bond began to crash at Q’s flat.

The agent knew Medical wasn’t the place.

He’d rather be with Q and the cat.

So imagine his surprise one day

To discover that his favorite coworker

Felt more like home to him, nay,

More like love… Bond felt the growing ardor.

Q was always there to help him

Especially when he had to stitch himself back together

And one day, seemingly on a whim

Bond decided Q was to whom he wanted to tether.

Years later, if you find your way to Six

And head down into the basement lair

You can find two men who still get their kicks

In the love and lives they share.

#MI6CafeChallenge #Poetry Month

[mi6-cafe]

The Saturday Cafe

It’s a day to dedicate to writing, drawing, sewing, whatever creating you want to do. These sessions are open to everyone to brainstorm ideas, cheerlead, do sprints together, and generally encourage lots of creativity! Lurkers are welcome ^ ^

This Saturday, come join us over in the #writers_corner and #artists_corner in the Bond fandom Slack. Slack requires an email invite, so if you need one of those, hit up @castillon02 or @spiritofcamelot for an invite!

If you like writing sprints, you can use our new Saturday Cafe role in discord to be notified of others running sprints during the event!

The Saturday Cafe may take the form of chatter with assorted prompts, spilling the tea on our creations, or some good old-fashioned brainstorming! We invite anyone to start the productivity going before us and keep the productivity going after we leave. Don’t let our time zones control you.

Feel free to pop along anytime during the day and join in!

#MI6 Cafe Saturday Cafe

[mi6-cafe]

For Poetry Day, 007 Fest 2021.

Calligram (002 poetry table)

Inspiration image: Walther PPK

Created on Procreate for iPad.

TEXT:

Bond, James Bond

A blunt intstrument

Hardened into deadly force

For Queen and country in the name

Of Freedom

In spite of trauma and loss.

#MI6CafeChallenge #Poetry Month

[mi6-cafe]

wip wednesday thursday:

completely forgot to post this yesterday, but rather than keeping going with chapter 9 of warm water, this bit for chapter 10 popped into my head, so i had to write it instead 🤦🏻‍♀️ @mi6-cafe

About an hour after they’ve left, Kate’s landline begins to ring. 

The dial tone keeps going in his ear for a good twenty seconds and he sighs, checking his watch. 

“Hi, you’ve reached Kate. Unfortunately I’m not able to take your call at the moment, so please leave your name and number and I’ll get back to you when I can.” 

He tries to reassure himself that she’s probably just in the shower, or having a cigarette out on that little balcony of hers – of course she won’t be able to hear the phone ringing – but there’s a horrible sinking feeling in his stomach as he leaves a short message. She hadn’t mentioned anything about going out this week when he saw her on Tuesday, yet he can’t help thinking about how she hesitated when he asked if she’s free this weekend. 

It was only a small pause: she could’ve been running through her diary in her head for all he knows, but it was just a touch too long for that. There’s also the possibility that his use of the word ‘date’ wasn’t exactly the wisest decision, though something’s telling him it’s not that, either. 

What if she’s gone out tonight, and was hoping to keep the weekend free in case it went well? 

The very thought of her being out with someone else makes him feel physically sick, and it’s only a downwards slope from here. He can picture it now: Kate tipping her head back in laughter at someone else’s joke; the two of them sharing a taxi to her flat after dinner; and worst of all, someone else’s hand sliding up her thigh once they’ve laid her down on her bed…

He has to cut himself off there. There isn’t a doubt in his mind that she doesn’t give a shit about who he sleeps with, and there’s a part of him that dies every time he reminds himself that she most likely never will care. At best, all he’ll get out of her is something like “was she hot?” – accompanied by a smirk, because of course she knows what his answer will be. He can’t stand it when she does that – cannot fucking stand that she doesn’t really do jealousy, not when it comes to him anyway. 

She’s never seen him with another woman – not that he’d be able to do it anyway, not with her around – she doesn’t have to for him to know what her reaction would be like. He’d get absolutely nothing out of her. Her face wouldn’t even change: in fact, no… She’d just give him her best encouraging smile, and it would instantly be enough to turn him off the woman he’s with, no matter how stunning she was. 

#mi6cafewipwednesday

[mi6-cafe]

007 Fest Poetry Prompt Table: Ballad

Alone along the Thames I walk in the night Stars lost beyond the haze Of the city lights

My thoughts turn in circles As they always do The compass spins My path turns round And I come back to you

Half-way round the world In the bright light of day I admit it’s just another Attempt to run away

Afraid of what it means Or what it could cost To number you among those I have loved and lost

My thoughts turn in circles As they always do The compass spins My path turns round And I come back to you

There can be no escape From the only certainty Your hands hold the promise Of ruin or ecstasy

It’s time I roll the dice Time to face my fate Cards on the table I hope I’m not too late

My thoughts turn in circles As they always do The compass spins My path turns round And I come back to you

I’m coming back to you I’m coming back to you I’m coming home to you

#MI6CafeChallenge #Poetry Month

[mi6-cafe]

It’s WIP Wednesday!

Post a line or three from a current WIP, and then tag @mi6-cafe so we can find and reblog it!

OR you can reblog this post with your WIP excerpt!

All ships, fandoms, and WIPs are welcome.

#MI6CafeWIPWednesday

[mi6-cafe]

Scavenger Hunt #69 - Blackout Poem

Czech version, page 112 of Zlatý fantóm (Goldfinger)

nehty zaťukala

vyčerpala

zbývá

setkání

a paní

chladně řekla

miláčku?

zamilovaně

a 

vážně. Pak

smrt

nehoda

smích

——

English version

tapped her nails

drained

remains

a meeting

and a lady

said coldly

darling?

lovingly

and

seriously. Then

death

accident

laughter

#MI6CafeChallenge #Poetry Month

[mi6-cafe]

It’s WIP Wednesday!

Post a line or three from a current WIP, and then tag @mi6-cafe so we can find and reblog it!

OR you can reblog this post with your WIP excerpt!

All ships, fandoms, and WIPs are welcome.

#MI6CafeWIPWednesday

[mi6-cafe]

Scavenger Hunt Item #21: Write an acrostic poem for any Bond title.

Nothing ventured, nothing gained

On and on, it ends with pain.

To be a spy is to give yourself

Into liquor bottles on the shelf.

Making enemies on the street,

Enticing women you’ll never meet.

To be a spy is a broken man

On foreign soil shit hits the fan.

Determination cannot last long 

In bloody wounds without a comm, does

Everybody last this long?

#MI6CafeChallenge #Poetry Month

[mi6-cafe]

My Skyfall haiku

As part of a challenge to describe Skyfall in thirty haiku, I wrote:

師と敵死 氷が壊れた 戦士復活

which translates to:

Master and enemy death Ice broken Warrior resurrection

I am pretty happy with it, especially since I managed to write it in Japanese. As a haiku, it has the right syllable/mora count, contrast (but no cutting word), and a seasonal reference.

#MI6CafeChallenge #Poetry Month