VSSPoems, Week 3

September 21st

Everything decays

Rots away

To become #ruins

 

Glorified

As it dies

Living relics

 

Attractions

For the masses

Til its gone

 

The tragedy

And mystery

Of life

 

 

September 23rd

Tears wash the soul

Nourish the heart

Cleanse the dark

Like the #rain

We danced in

As children

Carefree

And naive

Life’s burdens

Yet on our shoulders

 

September 24th

I wish to #stitch

a stunning mask

to confound

and astonish

 

I wish to #stitch

a matching cloak

to keep secrets

and mystify

 

I wish to #stitch

a wonderful lie

to become my life

and satisfy

 

September 25th

Darkness was always there

Filling the air

in thick, rolling clouds.

The thunder was loud

after the flashes of lightning.

You would have thought it blinding

except it was familiar

even the shivers

it sent down your spine.

It was divine.

It was #Castlevania.

 

September 26th

My #luggage seems light

Laughable

I hide it away

Screaming internally

Can’t let them see

I’m vulnerable

Struggling

Gasping

Fighting my demons

 

What else is there to do?

My burdens are mine

Guilt is there

If I share

And so I lock them up

And battle myself.

 

September 27th

The waters still

Shimmer and shine

Beneath pale moon light

Her face is reflected

Ivory skin

Speckled by sunlight

Green eyes blossom

Like new buds

On a growing tree

Nature’s #mirror Is friendlier

Than a stranger’s gaze

She welcomes the image

Strong and powerful

Very Short Stories, Week 19

It’s been a tough week and I still feel lost and unsure. I know I should push forward and fight to normalize my routine again but… The weight of Jasper’s death still clings to me and the silence is a knife straight through my heart.

I hope by trying to tap into other things for the prompts, I might banish this sadness that comes in waves. Hopefully, the ache will lessen with a bit more time and I’ll be able to carry on.

Anyways, the vssof this week still deal with Jasper, but I tried to write about other things, too. I hope you enjoy them.

 

August 20th

My #haven is my pets. The soft touch of their fur on my hands and their attentive, soul piercing gaze as they listen to every word. I lost a piece of my haven last night. His barks that woke me with his demands. His warmth as he snuggled close at night. Gone. But not forever.

 

August 21st

Staring at the x-rays of her dog, she was #blindsided by the news.

We usually see this with cancer, the vet explained.

The rest of his words were lost on her and tears fell like silent rain down her cheeks. Her husband’s hand was rough yet warm as it rubbed her shoulder.

 

August 22nd

The #wilds of the world shrink and shrivel in the grasp of greedy humans. Trees fall, uprooted and cut. Lakes dry under an unforgiving sun. Grassy meadows become concrete beaches. Our touch turns the world into a cold, unforgiving landscape. Nature’s tears and cries unheard.

 

August 23rd

#Bright lights twinkled like rare gems above them. A sky full of treasure they’d never see or know. The soft colours danced upon the packed dirt and they followed it forward, hands clasped in each others. The world was still and silent as they reached the clear waters.

 

August 24th

The silence is neverending. An unbreakable entity consuming any whisper of noise and leaving a desperate void in its wake. She cries but the sounds of her sobs dissipate into a vacant air. Sadness fills her gaze like waters in a still lake. The ripples #shatter silence.

 

August 25th

Even when the #skyline hid behind trees, her bare feet carried her onward. Just beyond the horizon, she repeated, dragging her tired soul despite its cries. In the daylight, the sun battered her skin through ripped fabric. Her raspy breaths echoed in her ears as she collapsed.

 

August 26th

I #confess

my heart is broken

my mind is unguided

my body is hollowed.

I confess

my path forward is gone

my dream is muddled

my goals lost to time

I confess

I don’t know what to do

Take time to heal

or push right through.

I confess

my only solace is sleep

and it calls again.

Very Short Stories, Week 1

As promised, here are my #vss365(s) for the week. It isn’t quite a full seven days, but I want to make a habit of posting them on Mondays.

I have enjoyed the prompts so far, and toyed with themes of nature, love, comedy, and death. It will be interesting to see where the prompts continue to take me. I’ve enjoyed the challenge thus far, after all!

The prompt words are in bold letters, and I would love to see some Very Short Stories of your own! Also, if you want to see any of this in a poem or short story let me know!

Anyways, here they are!

April 17th

The #veneer covered the coarseness of the room, calming it into a beauty, but she could only hate it. It is a mask, a facade, she thought as her eyes longed for the rugged stone and rough wood beneath it. “Why must we hide the beauty of truth?”

 

April 18th

This Love was poison, slithering through the veins like a snake until it found the heart. Latching on with a bite, the #venom burned with need and longing, forsaking everything for the One. A thoughtless victim to Love’s cruel whims. But it felt so damn good.

 

April 19th

Burgers sizzled on the grill of the bbq, to the left of the wooden deck. Chatter filled the air, mingled with laughter, and tummies growled beneath the noise. “Hey!” the people greeted the new guest, rose to give hugs. “Burgers?” she asked, “But I’m #vegan.”

 

April 20th

Mist filtered off the lake in swaths, hiding the calm water. Dew clung to the green blades of grass, and birds called from the leaf burdened trees. Each morning, blooming flowers greeted the sun as it lifted nature’s #veil on the world. All while I sipped tea on my deck.

 

April 21st

The house was caked in filth. Dust on every surface. Grime on all the furniture. Not one wanted to clean the bathroom. The kitchen is where the downfall of the owner could be found. Copious amounts of empty liquer bottles killed the small space. His #vice had killed him.

 

April 22nd

The #vague memories of her past tugged on the corners of her mind. Images flashed before her eyes like still shots, and taunted her with silence. A puzzle of color, and her world was shades of grey. Dreary rain tapped at the windows. She could only move forward now.

Winter’s Come

Red rises in the light of a waning sun.

Dusk conquers the sky, silent and proud,

Before Lady Moon rides her darkness

And claims her throne once more.

From the ground, forests watch the game

Repeated nightly, predictable,

Before turning their eyes inward.

The ground covering their twining roots

Is warmed by bloodied leaves

Dropped from the skyward limbs.

Night’s Queen bids forth the cold

And sends the westward wind howling in the eerie calm.

Fall drifts away, hand in hand with Father Time,

And passes Winter, serene under a clock of frost.

The forests shiver with the change,

Watch drying leaves, rust, crumple, disintegrate.

Dawn sounds the trumpet charge,

Ahead of Lord Sun on his sea of blue,

And chases Lady Moon past the horizon once more.

The trees turn their eyes inward, closing them tight,

Its time to slumber, despite warming rays of light.

 

 

The Nymph With A Siren’s Song

Moonlight dances on stilled waters

gracefully covering mossy shores.

Trees watch in stoic silence,

Like Statues guarding Nature’s Secrets.

Footsteps break the calming night,

Approaching the clear lake in awe.

In ethereal beauty, she stands barefoot,

A nymph whose wings glitter brighter than stars.

Her emerald eyes shimmer with promise

A siren’s voice sounds in the distance.

Light as air, she moves upon the water,

Finding her place in the night’s music.

Patterns form on the surface around her,

Chaotic and Beautiful under the Moon’s gaze.

Wings flutter in softened shadows

Lifting the nymph higher just to free fall.

The space is filled by her glowing prescence

Though she vanishes amongst the trees

Like an unformed thought is swallowed by the mind.

Removed from sight, the fireflies fade away,

A closing curtain on something unseen

And yet I know it was more than a dream.