Monthly Archives: March 2012

No Greater Fear – dVerse Poets ‘Nightmare’ Prompt

no sense of
taking steps
as I am
pulled
tugged
dragged
down the aisle
merely watch as pews
pass peripherally
like effects from
a 3D movie
black attired bodies
glance at me
with blank faces
as I pass
no features
only tears
I stop at the
three open-lidded
boxes waiting
against the wall
releasing a pent up
scream
as I see the
faces within

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Filed under Poetry, Poetry - Prompts

Litter

(Photo credit: Hannah Gosselin ©2012 Phippsburg, Maine)

Two of my aunts used to run a country store down at the lake. It was more than that really; you could get everything from an ice cream cone to a new wig made on site. The ice cream was more popular.

My Uncle Bill and Uncle Fred would man the porch. They were pranksters by trade and both had retired from their hobby of teaching. They spent most of their summers, even before they retired, in rocking chairs on either side of the stairs leading to the front door. No one could enter the store without going by at least one of them.

They were harmless and fun and part of the reason people stopped in. Both of them always carried a notebook and a pen. One of their favorite pastimes was to write short little poems about everyone that came by, especially tourist and anyone new. They were usually funny, or cutesy, and short. Occasionally someone would justify something serious, but never hurtful. Mostly they were along the lines of:
Red in her hair
and on her toes,
but neither as cute
as ice cream on her nose.
They would tear them out of their notebooks and give them to the person they were written about. Occasionally, someone would keep one and cherish it, but mostly they ended up in the trashcans inside or blowing across the parking lot.

I worked there summers growing up; me and Big Tony. We were the only employees. Big Tony was about forty, deserving of his nickname, and a bit slower than most folks. In thinking that is. He was a hard worker. We would take care of the trash, sweep the floors, restock shelves; whatever my aunts needed. I liked working with Tony, he smiled a lot and never had a harsh word for anyone or anything.

Years later, after my aunts and uncles had passed on along with the store, I would stop in and check on Tony as often as I could. He lived in an assisted living place and seemed to enjoy it. We would take walks and occasionally go back down to the lake and fish.

One day he decided to show me his room. It was neat and clean, just like he had always been; bed, chair, table, TV. The usual set up. But covering the walls were hundreds of pieces of notebook paper that I remembered so well. Each one had a small, hand written poem about someone that had passed through that store: discarded, left behind.

“Tony, how did you get these?”
“I used to pick them up. Out of the trash, off of the parking lot.”
“Why?”
“Besides you, they are the only friends I have.”

My visits to Tony become more frequent. When the time came, I collected all of his ‘friends’ into a scrapbook and made a copy. The copy I kept, the other was on Tony’s chest when they closed the lid.

Written for the Flashy Fiction photo prompt.

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Filed under Creative writing, Flash Fiction, Free Write, Short Story

Dead End

The chase was over,

she had lost,

dead end room.

A lock on a flimsy door

the last barrier to

her tormentor.

Insidious, triumphant

scratch of

nails on wood,

before it shatters

inward.

13 Frightened Souls

13 Frightened Souls (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Something new, why not? This is for the weekend challenge prompt at Trifecta: “Write a horror story in 33 words, without the words blood, scream, died, death, knife, gun, or kill. Good luck.” Not having any experience in the genre, reading or writing, I am sure it is amateurish and trite at best. But like I said, why not?

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Filed under Creative writing, Poetry

In a Moment

In a moment of
still solitude I shall
rest my hand upon
the earth and feel
its pulse and rhythm.

In a moment of
still solitude I shall
remove the veil of
self from my eyes to
see all I have ignored.

In a moment of
still solitude I shall
hush the clamor of
hustle and bustle and
hear the wind breathe.

In a moment of
still solitude I shall
remove this protective
skin and absorb through
raw pores the essence of life.

Shall I, at that moment,
weep with the knowledge
of years of privation,
or embrace possibility
with tears of ecstasy?

solitude

solitude (Photo credit: AndyRobertsPhotos)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

For the dVerse Poets prompt from Victoria Slotto. Theme: living in the moment.

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Filed under Poetry, Poetry - Prompts

Before You Go

One last thing,
before you go,
there are a few more
task you have to do.

You must take back the
last time we kissed and
remove this feeling of
your lips on mine.

The scent of you must
be removed from all
my clothes and the
towels and sheets.

Pictures must be burned
and memories erased,
that blanket cannot stay,
or the plant, or the cat.

Be gentle throwing your
luggage about, remember
that you carry with you
my heart.

Not
that I shall
be needing it
again.

Accessories

Accessories (Photo credit: N.L)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Written for the Poetic Asides Prompt for a ‘one last thing’ poem.

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Her Perfume

Fragment of a scent,
nothing more —
a passing stranger
jostled in a crowd,
not her.
A fragrant memory
of another time,
mere remnant of a
previous life.

Eye of the crowd

Eye of the crowd (Photo credit: abrinsky)

 

 

 

 

 

 

A minimalist approach to Three Word Wednesday. Words to use: fragrent, jostle, remnant.

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Filed under Poetry, Poetry - Prompts

Witness

I could not resist another quick one for Margo’s image prompts.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The jury visibly relaxed,
Judge Johnson leaned back,
both attorneys smiled a little,
the defendant tried not to react.

Decisions could now be made,
Big John had stood to speak;
people would be swayed,
for truth was all he spoke.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Filed under Poetry, Poetry - Prompts