Very Short Stories, Week 24

I missed the weekend prompts for my posts this week so there a bit short. Hope you don’t mind!

 

September 24th

#Fire licked across the stacked logs, surrounded by placed brick. It grew until it crackled and sparked and its flames reached for the starry night sky. She sat with her husband on folding lawn chairs. No words passed between them as the heat warmed them.

 

September 25th

She wrapped the #sinew around the willow twigs that formed a circle. It required a soft touch and yet force was needed too. She continued until the web was formed, decorated with beads the colour of rainbows. As she kissed her son’s head that night, she hung the dream catcher

 

September 26th

Night #consumes the day and she readies herself. Dressed in black, she lifts herself onto the window sill. Its tracks bite into her palms and she drops when it’s time. The two-storey fall is quick and she lands with a thud, rolling for cover. She draws in a deep breath.

 

September 27th

 

Stars twinkle in distant #universes, lighting skies above alien life. Through telescopes, gazes meet but remain unaware. Life continues its circling dance. She dreams of unknown planets and longs to walk on foreign soil. Her imagination is a playground of planets.

 

September 28th

 

September 29th

 

September 30th

His bare feet were numb on the cold, wet road. The ragged clothes on his body were no shelter from the howling wind. There was no frown on this boy’s face. He wore a stubborn scowl like a shield and pressed forward. It was #inevitable in his mind that he’d find shelter.

Very Short Stories, Week 23

Another weekend has come and gone and I already long for the next one. I find them relaxing in such a new way in the fall. Here’s hoping Autumn will help me blossom.

Anyways, I tried to not to be too repetitive with this week’s set of prompts and I think I pulled it off. Not gonna lie, I feel I have lost the sensory aspect of my writing and I’m trying to tap into it again. Working on my description that way as it were. So here’s hoping that’s noticeable in the future!

 

September 17th

The wolves prowled the ground, tracking the scent until they came across their prey. Low to the ground, they crawled forward in the dense grass. In the quiet evening sun, their paws dashed forward in thunderous waves. Their #carnivorous fangs sank into the fat of the calf.

 

September 18th

His warmth welcomes her, leaves her #infatuated with his presence. His words soothe her, teaching her to love who he is inside.

But their souls?

Those meet in the dark nights, wrapped in need and want for each other. Connecting their broken pieces for one whole being.

 

September 19th

The path into the dark is never lined with light. It’s a #cavernous descent into the bowels of one’s own soul. Eyes adjust slowly to constant night and it’s left to one’s imagination how the trail begun. But it is home now. Its warmth and smell of brimstone there always.

 

September 20th

In the heat of the moment, passion #devours the mind. Thoughts of laundry and chores vanish. And they’re at the edge, the peak, the tiptop of release. They disintegrate into a husk rocked by wave after wave of climax. The body controls the wheel and only lets go after orgasm.

 

September 21st

In the depths of her bones, in its very #marrow, were the answers to her abilities. And she couldn’t let him harvest it. Struggling against the restraints, they frayed and snapped, freeing her. She grabbed the thin shaft of the scalpel and lashed out at the doctors.

 

September 22nd

My #garden lies barren. Its soil hard and unyielding. There are no weeds to pull, no flowers to tend. Instead it weakens further, unnurtured. The sun dries it and the wind kicks at its dust. When the rain comes, I fear it will be too late. Another patch of death.

 

September 23rd

The #Equinox seemed to approach faster this year, leaving her frazzled. She ran her hand through her hair and collected the stones she owned. The polished black of the hematite called to her and she held its rounded edges in her palm. This will do, she thought and began.

VSSPoem, Week 1

Once again, it is a day later than I planned, but it’s for a good reason. I’ve actually been engaged in social activities with family members for once. This is very rare for me as I am that kind of loner who sits at home in front of the computer.

However, maybe this all is a sign of things to change. Maybe I will have a bit more of an adventure from the safe walls of my home. Who knows?

anyways, this is one of those new prompts I started doing over the past little bit. I hope you enjoy these very short poems!

 

September 5th

I long to #push past

these obstacles made of doubt

that sabotage me

 

September 6th

Her #shadow cast

by the evenin’ sun

was the giant

she wished

to be.

Its footsteps larger

than the nightmares

that came to call

in the night’s

dark hours.

She tried to remind

herself of that

tucked under

her covers

but

her fears grew

until they consumed her

once more.

 

September 7th

On swift wings

#Nightfall approached

Its pitch black feathers

fell in swarming shadows

and chased the light

in a playful game

 

A girl sighed

head rested on hand

in her windowsill

At peace in the dark

she moved to her desk

and lifted her pen

to write

 

September 8th

In the cold room

he relived memories

picking them apart

for the #omens

they contained

Will-o-wisps

seemed prevalent

dancing on the edge

of his life

but never touching it

 

He could recall

deaths in vivid detail

of friends and family

until he was alone

 

In the cold room

 

September 9th

Emotion is danger

too much

too little

tips a scale

both divine

and cruel

It can fill

the cup

to the brim

or evaporate

both host

and vessel

empty

 

Let go the

anger

hate

rage

jealousy

envy

they say

it causes damage

to your mind

wears it thin

with time

 

Teach me how then

 

September 10th

Waters #follow

the bends

curves

hills

of a land

marred

scarred

defaced

by human hands

 

Soon Fires #follow

the dried

leaves

trees

rooted in ground

unloved

forgotten

forsaken

by human hands

 

Then Deaths #follow

the lack of

food

water

on a barren Earth.

 

September 11th

Good and Bad

Happens in threes

The #Attraction

Forms the link

Like dominoes

 

Positive attracts positive

Negative attracts negative

 

It’s a cycle

And it will last

Longer

Than

Time

 

I say it’s a game

But then

I’m stuck

In the cycle of Threes

 

September 12th

Walk into the

#Shallows

Walk into the

Hollows

 

of your own

Heart and Soul

Take a gander

Take a stroll

The mucks and mires

are there to console.

 

Search through

Cracks

Follow the

Tracks

 

You’ve made them

Inspired them

Colluded with them

 

Walk into the

#Shallows

 

September 13th

Leaves spin and twirl

Like dreidels in the wind

Teased and taunted

By nature’s whim

 

Crisp flakes of snow

Kiss #green grass

Burying it in warmth

As time begins to pass

 

Seasons dance as long lost friends

Sharing the same tune

Until the world’s end

#PicturePoetryPrompt: Gun Control

From North of the border,
I watch my American friends
suffer time and again.
A vicious cycle repeating.

Bullets fired from GUNS
are worth more than
LIVES
I hear again and again.

And yet there’s a growing chorus
Of voices.
Young
Old
Female
Male
Gay
Straight
Black
White.

They scream for CONTROL
United against a bigger threat.
They don’t want to hide
Afraid and alone
from angry people who take their rage
like tidal waves
and crash into innocents.

They want change.
Not to take all the GUNS away
But to restrict the types
Create stiffer rules.
What threat is this
to your freedoms,
My GUN owning friends?

They should be free
to feel SAFE
In a Grocery store
In a School
At a Concert
At a Hospital
At a Synagogue
At a Church

ANYWHERE.

But the NRA has friends
who view CONTROL
as an evil worse than plague
WHICH IT’S NOT.
When did your fellow Americans’ LIVES
come to mean so little?

I see this on my screens
In our papers.
As a Canadian,
I’m thankful for our GUN CONTROL.
I feel SAFE.
If only the change Americans need
would come on swift wings.
I wish you all could feel SAFE
On every day’s journeys.

You see,
I think no man, woman or child
should be afraid to leave their home
for fear of flying bullets
shot from vicious GUNS
hunting them down.

Wandering Woman

The bridge stood in splendour
Its moss free bricks
Clean and dutifully placed.

A lone woman wandered
through the forest sticks
In sturdy clothes, no lace.

Her light steps unheard
Her cloak left unseen
She approached the wooden gates.

Called to the armoured guard
Whose face was quite mean
Her fate now to wait.

She was shooed to the woods
To travel under her black hood
Taking her magic goods
Elsewhere.