VSSPoem, Week 2

For the second week, here are my vsspoem prompts! I enjoyed some of them and was challenged by others. They always start off as short stories and then I remember they’re poems!

That silliness pretty much sums up my week. Got some stuff done around the house and off to get more done!

Hope you guys are all as productive as you want/need to be!

 

September 15th

The pen scrawled

Across the page

Black ink

Vibrant against

Stark white.

She smiled

As the words

Stumbled Into sentences

 

On the third page

She stopped

The smile now tears

Their spots marring

Her paragraphs

 

She signed in scribbles

And kissed the #letter

Goodbye

 

September 16th

The #Cry for Justice

is answered

with guns, knives,

all sorts of weapons.

 

And scarcely words.

 

The people take it

into their own

hands.

 

Because the scales

are

broken

and

untrusted.

 

How does this change?

 

When does this change?

 

 

September 17th

(Time zones sometimes screw with my ability to do prompts… Sorry!)

 

September 18th

My problems are #mountains

that stand tall

despite my

cries.

 

My worries are #mountains

fierce against wind

and rain

always.

 

My goals are #mountains

with no summit

to reach

soon.

 

My life is #mountainous

and they only seem larger

despite my steps towards the top.

 

September 19th

The grass was burdened with dew

Cool beneath her soft, bare feet

 

The sun had pulled back its blanket

Its rays of light there to meet

 

The world seemed to smile at her

Yet she crumbled with defeat

 

#Serenity was a thing of the past

It was never meant to last

 

September 20th

#Inertia does not rule my life.

I am constantly

knocked off course.

Change might be

my middle name.

No path to stick to

like some sort of glue.

Not me.

I’m bounced along

from spot to spot

Always thinking its right

But its not.

They tell me so.

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.

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.

Punching Bag

Can’t take another punch today

I wish this pain would go away

 

Another kick will lay me low

And put my heart through another go

 

No will to rise up and stand

Rather the Darkness holds my hand

 

I know well its bitter touch

And yet this world’s become too much

 

So as I lay down to sleep

I hope my soul, it will keep

 

For if tomorrow waits my gaze

I’ll welcome its numbing ways.

What I Am Reading

I have officially started reading A Game of Thrones by George R. R. Martin. I am only two chapters in, but I am enjoying the writing style for sure. I expected it to be similar to J. R. R. Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings series yet I am appreciating the fact that it is not.

When a book hooks me, I tend to finish it pretty quick, unable to stop reading it. However with books like Lord of the Rings or The Prince of Nothing series, it took months to read. I did enjoy them the whole way through, but they were painstakingly dull at times.

I can’t explain why I felt A Game of Thrones would be similar to Lord of the Rings in terms of writing. Maybe the hype? Its genre? Anyway, while I find it more modern, or easier to read, it does have a formal tone in its language that I envy. I believe it makes it sophisticated, and somehow makes a book more attractive to readers.

Readers may like easy reads, but many enjoy a more complex story, settings, character development. I want to build worlds like a great many authors do outside the confines of our world, or even revealing fantastical layers of it. I guess that is why I am trying to read the books I am, to figure it out.

A Game of Thrones has inspiring phrases, or fragments of sentences that I might just use for some more poems, or maybe an attempt at a short story. After all I do believe all writer’s go through a period of trying to find their own voice, and mimicking their favourite authors on the way. It is educational, I think, and might do me some good in the end.

 

 

Solitude

Quiet echoes off barren walls
Darkness fills the mind
And yet
In silent contemplation
Its emptiness is comforting.
 
Day after day
Week after Week
Locked in her room
She stays
Tempted to shed this second skin.
 
Instead
She holds herself tightly
The beating of her heart
Fills her conscious
And she falls in to the abyss
of her own making.
 
A key in the lock
A click
The door opens
Light shines through
And there…
 
The one person welcome
To shatter her world
And bring her into his.