Soft moss grows across
the lawn to greet shruberies
And trees in daylight.
Love Ages
Heart flutters in the chest
The Mind knows not to rest
First kisses taste the best
Love Sickness at its worst
Longing fit to burst
To deal with Lust’s thirst
Thrills fill the start
Can’t ever be apart
Don’t want to depart
Time shifts Love’s power
It no longer devours
No longer Lust’s hour
Now companions in life
Sharing its strife
And both thrive
Very Short Stories, Week 13
Good morning! I’m glad I survived another week of impromptu problems.
Friday the 5th, I accidentally triggered a massive clog in a branch line for our laundry and kitchen sinks. Friday the 12th, the problem was actually fixed after about $900 had been spent.
The week saw a great many anxiety attacks as I played phone tag with the plumbers, but now… I’m feeling a lot lighter in terms of mood.
However, my very short stories this week may have been affected by it all. Here’s hoping you manage to enjoy them anyways!
July 9th
#Beneath starry skies
Eyes divine the lies
Of an unkind mind.
Inner audience
Applaud a Godliness,
Destructive and callous.
Yet race time’s clock
Like a fired glock.
Dodge Death and decay.
Goals are our souls
Filling the holes
Of mortality’s game.
July 10th
The witch pulled back her dark curtains and watched the costumed children run from house to house. Lips curled in a snarl at the sight of green skin and a wart under the pointy, black hat. Holding an abalone shell, she meditated.
‘How I hate #trick or treating.’
July 11th
#Fury’s hands tightened around her throat. Fingers dug into soft flesh, yielding, and the faint pulse vibrated through its arm. Its black eyes watched tears well in her dying gaze, unempathetic.
Her last breath was a mumbled sorry, guilty.
Her last sight, Hellish Fire.
July 12th
The #tunnel curled, spiraling downwards inside the Earth, and they followed its steep descent. Footsteps echoed louder than the hushed whispers of the ragged group. Their lights caused the coloured quartz to glow, a stunning rainbow that faded in the depths of the rock.
July 13th
‘There’s #precious little time in the day,’ she whispered into his ear and roused him.
‘What’d you say?’
‘I said get up!’ she said markedly louder against his face, ‘We have dinner plans with my parents, remember?’
Finally sitting, he muttered, ‘But it’s nap time…’
July 14th
The sun’s rays shone upon the #boy’s neck, burning skin slow as a snail. Sweat beaded, fell, and formed again; the taste of salt strong on his tongue. Calloused feet carried his bony body forward down the asphalt road. Its stinging heat unfelt by worn soles.
July 15th
A #torrent of rain ripped through the roof. She woke to its cold water pounding down on her and soaking the confines of her room. Frantic, she rushed about, collecting memories in the form of photos and figurines.
She abandoned them when the flooding reached her knees.
Love Is
Love is boundless.
It warms all hearts
Despite size
Despite colour
Despite gender.
Love is infectious.
It makes its home
Despite health
Despite religion
Despite career.
Love is triumphant.
It sounds its horn
Despite trauma
Despite insecurity
Despite hate.
Love is a cure.
Best spread on Hope’s wings
to Everyone
Despite differences.
Bow to No Man
My first priority
should be me.
But my shoulders carry
Lists done daily.
And it grows
Makes new lows.
But here I am
And I’ll be damned
If I fail.
I roar,
not wail.
Take care of him.
Cups filled to the brim.
Still, I push forward
For I’m no coward.
Fall now and then
But I get up again.
Check off my list
With clenched fist
And wear my smile.
I know it’s futile
To fight my role
For it’s in my soul.
And yet there’s apart
Of my beating heart
It says there’s more
Behind closed doors.
And now I say
I bow to no man.
That’s not my plan.
Very Short Stories, Week 12
My traditional Monday post is here! The past week has flown by and had some amazing prompt words, too.
I will say I think this week’s very short stories were somewhat influenced by The Mentalist. Most of them seem to belong in a darker category, but there can be beauty in that, too.
Anyways, I hope you enjoy!
July 2nd
The dandelion stems were a #braid bound by delicate fairy fingers. Yellow petals were balanced atop the dusty curls, a token for their princess. Wearing the practice crown, she twirled before her flighty friends. Her dress glowed in the sun, the sheer silk now a star.
July 3rd
‘Everyone, to the storm shelter,’ he announced over the PA system. Students and teachers hurried across fading linoleum to the door he held open. He stood grim like a statue, unfazed by cries and the odd yell. His #equanimity lasted until the tornado touched down.
July 4th
#Liberty taunted her from behind steel bars, and with the jingling footsteps of guards. But she tasted it in her dreams. The walls of her cell dissolved into an urban landscape, filled with unfamiliar smells and sights.
Another mark on the wall of her ten-year sentence.
July 5th
Her fingers shook, reaching for the rope, afraid her other hand might slip. If I can get off this cliff, I’ll #contact EMTs, she mused. Clutching the rough, woven twine, she climbed with bloody hands.
On solid ground, she glanced down at the crumpled body of her friend.
July 6th
Black paws #unfurled, revealing white claws that scratched the ground. Crimson drops fell from the creature’s fangs and decorated the prints it left in its wake. Red and blue lights shimmered off its silver fur whilst sirens rang tirelessly. Its roar silenced the noise.
July 7th
‘I don’t love you anymore,’ she whispered into the phone and hung up. The words shredded the remaining piece of her heart, but the lie was necessary.
‘He’ll be safer if he doesn’t know or follow,’ her boss said, ignorant to the #sting of her words.
‘I know, ma’am.’
July 8th
‘You tried to #reach me?’ He asked his wife upon arriving home.
She smiled, ‘It wasn’t anything serious.’
Nodding, he let the matter drop and disappeared into his office.
The smile faded from her lips and tears fell in the silence. She sank to floor, swallowed by despair.
A Lone Soul
A cold hand touches the soul
Draining warmth, comfort
And connectivity.
An absence of sound, laughter
Words fail, claimed
By empty air.
Phone buzzes on the table
Is it a friend, family?
No, a game alert.
Flipping through channels
Searching social media
For something.
A need to reach out to another
Yet unaware of its urgency
Until they walk in.
They fill the void
And like a moth to flame
Rush to them.
Or maybe the door
Never opens, always closed
And we hide
Behind curtained windows.
You Idiot
You Idiot
How is it you can’t see
What’s in front of your face?
You Idiot
You think your words or lack of
don’t hurt me?
You Idiot
Think again about what you’re doing.
It speaks loud and clear
You Idiot
Take stock of yourself and improve
Or lose those who’d help you.
You Idiot
Look in the mirror for worth
Inside you and around you.
Hurt does Hurt
Hearts house many things
Not all are fluffy dreams.
Some are the darkest beings
Demons dressed as sheep.
They dwell in broken children
Crying into the night.
Answering prayers for vengeance
Their darkness can only spread.
Bullies’ words are their weapons
Weighted like sharp boulders.
Lashing out in violence
These demons scar another’s life.
The blackest of evils
help those who cannot rise
Not with encouragement
But knives dressed as lies.
Sharpened by daily suffering
They seek out their vicious prey.
If only kind words were cheap
They might help save a life.
But hey, we’re only human
And we all live in various strife.
Garden’s Delight
Ivy walls surround my Garden
hiding it in plain sight.
Roses bloom despite their thorns
And lilacs thrive at night.
Rain fills blue Waterfalls
Reflecting the light.
I sit upon this stone bench
And the Birds tell me to Write.
Kember's Journey 