prompt

VSSPoem, Week 4

September 30th

A family gene

that jumped over her
#Charm
She couldn’t

Not with a filthy mouth

or dirty mind

Honesty in every word
She couldn’t

Not with a fearful heart

or dark soul

Her pain wishing to spill
Her family

#Charmed

Friends from foe

Neighbour

Stranger
But not her.

 

October 1st

My #identity is pasted on plastic cards

With a name

My height

My birth date

My address

But I am more

than a shitty picture

and basic details.

 

I have a voice

A face under my mask

 

Paper and Plastic

don’t define me.

 

October 2nd

#Trust is another thing

that rusts.

Breaks like a chain.

Nobody’s mistake.

 

October 3rd

This sword is sharp

Meant to cut

Render flesh

Into ribbons

Draw blood

With a jab

 

It’s thin

Like my #patience

Worn down

By quick words

And quicker stabs

 

Perhaps it’s best

I wield a wooden weapon

 

At least

Until I’ve proven

My #patience is stronger

My lips sealed

 

October 4th

Like a sun inside

The light fades

And #dims to darkness

Hides behind frowns

Forgets how

To even smile

She tries to rekindle

Reignite the flame

But the wick remains

Unburnt

The lighter flashes

To life yet drains away

And she remains

#dimmed

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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.

BraveWrite, Week 2

It’s Hump Day, people! The best and worst day of a work week.

I have felt entirely sapped of my energy and I am hoping I can turn it around today. Fingers crossed! I don’t need to sleep in and waste the day away doing nothing which is what yesterday taught me.

My mom came over and helped sand, clean, and put the first coat of Tremclad on our awful metal railings. They look better already after that. However, being productive didn’t quite get me out of this weird mood slump I’ve been in so here’s hoping today’s the day.

Anyways, I hope you are on your way to a wonderful weekend and may my BraveWrites help you out!

 

September 12th

She stared out the car window and watched the rain streak down it. Her mother talked at her, but she didn’t hear the words. Only emptiness.

But she was #encouraged by their want to help and surprised when they confessed their own visits to a psychiatrist. Maybe there was hope.

 

September 13th

She watches as her mother takes another drag. The cigarette’s blue-tinged smoke shimmers in the light and dissipates.

A silent, slow threat.

And she sheds another tear. Greying skin, ragged coughs, the crimson drops that spell the end. She waits for #cancer to claim her mom.

 

September 14th

Video game consoles litter the house, attached to various TVs. She turns on the xbox 360 and plays Assassin’s Creed. Her character scales rough pick, runs across clay tile, and lives.

She envies his freedom though she is the #gamer.

 

September 15th

Her brother pushed her under the water as part of the game. His hand was like steel on her head and she fought to surface. To suck in oxygen once more.

Panic had set in as time slowed. When he finally released her, she was ravenous for air.

Her #umbrage was now rage.

 

September 16th

The #vibration of the nail file on her toes unnerved her and served as a reminder. She was unwelcome here.

She was no pretty girl who wore make-up, fake nails, or got her hail done. She was a tomboy whose hands were filthy and rough.

But she stayed in the salon.

 

September 17th

She stood with her friends and their boyfriends in line, waiting to have her prom ticket checked. It was clutched in a white-knuckled fist as her anxiety took over. Her companions laughed and gasped as they entered the hall.

She suffocated internally on the #pizzazz.

 

September 18th

Her #alacrity had nothing to do with a fear of failure. It had everything to do with her need to prove them wrong. She was tired of the comparisons that ground her spirit into dust. She was tired of fearing whispers and taunting looks. She’d stand strong.

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

BraveWrite, Week 1

Happy rainy Thursday! This was meant to go up yesterday but time got away from me.

This is one of the prompts I have started to do on Twitter and I plan for it to up on Wednesdays. Make it a… Hump Day sort of thing.

Just like the very short stories, the prompt word has the ‘#’ in front of it. Feel free to take those words and write something around them, inspired by them, or etc!

 

Hope you enjoy!

 

September 5th

Her nature was #bellicose in every sense of the word. Small issues became fixed grudges that called for violence in hopes of resolution.

But she tamped down the need for confrontation. You catch flies with honey, not vinegar, she reminded herself and forced a smile.

 

September 6th

His bare feet carried him further from the house he had called home. The cries, shattered dishes, and poorly patched walls were behind him. His tears blurred his vision but the bite of gravel told him to stop.

Sat under the oak tree, his mother’s voice screamed, #skedaddle, again

 

September 7th

She twittered about her cabin, attuned to its energies, and grabbed various vials. With measuring spoons and cups, she poured ingredients into the cast iron cauldron and stirred.

Singing the spell, her #melange bubbled and simmered the rainbow of colors. It was done

 

September 8th

She would serve as the #conduit tonight and the fear it sent through her curled her toes. Shivers ran down her spine and her heart beat furiously inside her chest. She was suffocating within her own skin and helpless against their wishes.

She heard them call her.

 

September 9th

His mind created insults as sharp as blade to slay himself. The words were grenades, blasting him #asunder. The onslaught was endless, the booms echoing in an eternity of repetition. His skin tingled to life as his heart wished to crumble. He continued on in his shell.

 

September 10th

#Prisms were transparent, relaying rainbows across the world. Their presence a blessing, a joy, uplifting to those with one in their life.She was scarred, cracked. She absorbed the dark like a sponge and kept it to herself. Basked in it. No #prism to shine light.

Setting Suns

Clouds crawl like vines across the darkening
sky absorbing hues of a setting sun
retreating past a foreign horizon.
A lone woman stands beneath its growing
mass with head tilted back to see its forms.
The wind dances around her legs and soars
towards the majesty of the Lady
in the Moon. She envisions a brighter
world just beyond her senses and soft touch.
Ignoring temptation, she wanders home.

#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.

Very Short Stories, Week 15

Good morning, friends! Couple things to share today…

This week, My hubby and I are taking one of our nephews to stay with us. There’ll probably be some Pokemon Go and Harry Potter: Wizards Unite. Swimming, splash pads, day trips. Or maybe a more lazy week with in home reading and crafting. Who knows!

Because of this, I will most likely be absent from my blog and less active on Twitter (if you follow me on there; if not, here’s me! @KEMwriting ). There’s no point trying to guarantee blog posts when I’m going to be focused on having fun and laughs with my nephew!

It also means little editing will be done on my book. I plan on making time for it since the writer’s life for me will eventually mean children of my own. This will be a great way to figure that aspect out more.

While I’m off for a week of joy and adventures, I hope this week is fulfilling for the rest of you! Take care!

Oh, and enjoy my very short stories just below!

 

July 23rd

This is #folly, she cried and barrelled out the open window of the train compartment after her friend. She heard a splash seconds before cold water surrounded her, pulling at her limbs. Unbuttoning her heavy clothes, she sprung to the surface and sought out her friend.

 

July 24th

Such a waste of time, she determined and slammed her laptop closed. What a #joke, thinking I could be a writer. She tossed her USB across the room and left it there like a piece of forgotten trash.

 

Pick me up now, it seemed to say from the floor. We’re not done yet.

 

July 25th

Vivian stepped out of her room and the black dress clung to her body like a wet glove. A hesitant smile played on her lips as she descended the staircase. In front of Damian’s hungry gaze, her cheeks turned scarlet.

 

His kiss was sudden yet she #answered it with passion.

 

July 26th

Give ’em #hell, his dad said and tapped his gloves.

He entered the cage to the roars of the crowd and threw his arms up high with his own shout. Pacing back and forth, he watched his opponent. They approached each other, knocked fists and squared up.

The bell rang.

 

July 27th

What’s your #intent with my son? she asked. Her legs were crossed, hands rested on her knee.

I plan on making him happy til the end of my days, he answered and smiled. He fiddled with the ring box in his pocket.

That settles it then. You have my blessing, she grinned.

 

 

July 28th

Do you get it yet?

I want You gone

Disappear

Vanish

Into a Darkness

only You can

Summon

Tired of cruel whims

that Sabotage my attempts

You’re a bad taste

Lingering

Unwanted

I #renounce You

and Your Tainted Touch

Vilify

Condemn

Your Traitorous ways

 

Goodbye, Reflection

 

 

July 29th

#Stray dogs littered the streets; unwanted and untended. She shook her head at the sight until a wet nose kissed her hand. Smiling, she stroked the ragged pup and it demanded belly rubs. I can’t save them all but I can save this one, she mused and took it home with her.

Very Short Stories, Week 14

Another Monday is upon us and it’s dreary where I am! The sun is still hiding and my desk isn’t calling to me, but we’re here nonetheless.

 

I don’t have much to say about my past week. Grammarly picked a fight and seems to be winning though I ignore it telling me to get rid of my ‘u’s. I am combing back through the first 25 chapters I edited to correct comma use with Grammarly’s help.

It’s my first book and I’m probably still trying to find my voice, but I think I’m getting there! *fingers crossed*

Anyways, here are my very short stories from the past week! Hope you enjoy!

 

July 16th

Her reservoir is deep, filled to the brim with tears unshed, and words left unsaid. Every day she sits, pen in hand, and #delves into its ink. In scrolling shapes, she spills it unto the white page to lessen its load, but the day calls her forward.

And it fills again.

 

July 17th

#Reputation is everything,

they say.

From your hair

to your clothes,

you better look

crisp and clean.

A smudge on your face

could destroy you.

Keep shut that pretty mouth

for silence is your friend.

Forget opinions

or willpower.

Subservience to the norm,

Master

 

July 18th

Eyes glanced over the mutilated plants of her vegetable garden. Leaves were decorated in holes made by insects and weather. Long stalks & stems lay mangled on the dirt. Their produce, half-eaten, was left to rot and decay amongst the yellowing life.

#Unlikely to recover.

 

July 19th

One peek outside Vivian’s brick and mortar cage was all she could remember of freedom. Kilometres of space met forest, all #verdant shades, and guards patrolled every inch.

In the classroom, his voice shattered the idea of grass on her toes, “Vivian, are you listening?”

 

July 20th

She longed to #fly alongside the birds and forsake the Earth for clouds. A palace made of fluffiness and her crown jewelled with rain. She’d rule with kindness and love in her mind’s world.

The grass soft against her back but her mind soared with the winged creatures.

 

July 21st

The library #stacks were coated in dust, thick and displeasing. Rows of lines were traced by fingertips on book spines and footsteps marred the floor. She followed them, desperate for another human. A thud echoed in the distance and she raced towards it to find blue eyes.

 

July 22nd

#Elsewhere
I wish to be
Free from doubts
And failure

Elsewhere
I wish to be
With certain goals
Achieved

Elsewhere
I wish to be
In a new home
And energy

Elsewhere
I wish to be
At my desk
Instead

Elsewhere
I wish to be
In health
and serenity

Elsewhere
I wish to be
…