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Tag: poetry

The Message

A flash poetry writing post composed for June, inspired by the photo prompt; above.


The Message

From my fragile grasp both taken,
Dreams and aspiration,
A frozen life without another,
Choices made and I’m forsaken.

A thin jacket and woolly jumper,
Wrap my body’s senses duller,
I lace-up boots and strut.
Leaving my flat in a deep stupor.

Town streets, chilled and frosty.
Silent, muted, and empty,
Like my heart,
Struggling to beat with energy.

Those I see mind their own,
But trees greet with leaves un-grown,
At the edge of town country park,
I shuffle in, accepting fate and walk alone.

Along grey gravel pathways, I dream,
Betwixt herds of deer snorting steam,
An unknown, predetermined route,
Over fallen trees, a smoky frozen stream.

Tramping feet on iced puddles slip and skate,
Hours without the certainty of fate,
Body chilled, numb fingertips and toes,
Lost, I approach a tall, enchanting gate.

Rattling metal links echo a clunking din,
Secure lock and chains permit no way in.
Holding on, I fall to my knees,
The metal bites into my palm’s skin.

From my phone a text ping ricochet,
“I’d love to,” and emotional disarray,
Pulling myself up, the gate creaks open.
My destiny, this must be The Way.


192 Words.

Edited from an Original Post on:

Scribblers Forum – Flash Poesy 281

Image by The Author

Flash Fiction Poetry: The Recipe. May

A flash poetry writing post composed for May. This piece is a poem, of no more than twenty-five lines, using the following words: verdant, open, silence, richness, compassion, and recipe.


The Recipe

The recipe,
I crave it, desire it,
Must open the page of measurements,
To prosper and thrive,
Not survive.

The recipe,
To climb it, walk it,
A verdant landscape to explore,
To grow and improve,
Not prove.

The recipe,
To read it, study it,
Sit in its silence to breathe,
To stop and meditate,
Not deliberate.

The recipe,
To enjoy it, utilise it,
Consider the richness of narrative,
To discover and expand,
Not reprimand.

The recipe,
To embrace it, love it,
Unlock answers within compassion,
To gain and promote,
Not remote.


90 Words.

Edited from an Original Post on:

Litopia May Flash Fiction Competition

Image by Pfüderi from Pixabay

Bright Light

A flash poetry writing post composed for October, entitled Light. Written following the rules for an acrostic, then as a cinquain: 2 syllables in the first line, 4 in the second line, 6 in the third, 8 in the fourth, and 2 in the fifth.


Bright Light

(An Acrostic)

Let us start our story, way back at the beginning,
Introduce conflict and concern, charm with characterisation,
Great skills we must show, not tell. Be erudite, entertaining as well,
Handle flow and feelings, formulate drama to be fascinating,
Then illuminate and inform, climax at the conclusion.


Bright Light

(A Cinquain)

Shed light,
Portray your tale,
Entertain us with words,
Create thoughts, feelings, change, delight,
Be bright.


62 Words.

Edited from an Original Post on:

Scribblers Forum Thread – Flash Poesy 253 – Light [Word Prompt]

Image from Shutterstock.

Carriage Hats

A flash poetry writing post composed for March, inspired by Paul Gustave Fischer’s painting Copenhagen Tram; above.


Carriage Hats

Puff, puff on his fat cigar,
This time, he’s gone too far.

“How embarrassing, I should jump,
I’m an old fool, a silly chump.”

50 dollars! Oh, what a mistake,
Surely one any bloke could make.

Stylish, pretty, such a looker,
No reason to think Red Hat a hooker.

“Serves him right, he needed a whack,
My heavy handbag packs quite a thwack.”

One in the eye, dollars drop to the floor,
Next stop, both’ll flutter out the door.

Between the two the inspector stands,
He pushed them apart with his bare hands.

“Sir, Miss, stop at once, if you please,
Wait here, I’ve called the railway police.”

He turns, and out the corner of his eye,
A self-erecting newspaper he did spy.

Spectacled man is a private detective,
Owner of false arm that goes undetected.

“Clever, iPad hidden in daily broadsheet,
No fingers seen tapping, and comfy seat.”

His hand from beneath folds of raincoat,
Records evidence in pictures and in note.

False arm, nearest Red Hat, has finger missing,
Broke off following Cigar’s attempted kissing.

“A jolly good job nobody cared to look,
Uploaded video to YouTube and Facebook.”

That’s why the detective smiles a grin,
Live fracas upload means views for him!

For a client, the private eye is on a mission,
Two chatting ladies opposite are under suspicion.

“So, Pearls gives flowers to Blue Piping hat,
A lesbian affair you can be sure of that.”

Backed up with presence of a gardening glove,
Detective believes two are certainly in love.

“Trilbys, Panamas, other Fine Hats” take a look,
Cover story for the Detective, author of a book.

“Cigar’s Norwegian roebuck headwear is of interest,
Not the colour of Red Hat’s hat I must confess.”

Private dick doesn’t realise Red Hat is a gardener,
With Pearls, Blue Stripes there’s a ménage à trois.

Spectacles’s signed fiction, Pearls’ hubby’s present,
But hiding a tracker inside is not time well spent.

“Little does he know he’s looking at the wrong lover,
I’ll soon sort his dilemma and pull out my revolver.”

Red Hat wants to shoot Spectacles, as he stole her MS,
“The Lady Milliner’s Guide to Gentleman’s Headdress”.


361 Words.

Image: Paul Gustave Fischer (1860-1934) Copenhagen Tram

Edited from an Original Post on:

Scribblers Forum Thread – Flash Poesy 121 – Copenhagen Tram [Photo Prompt]

Day Tripper

A flash poetry writing post composed for March, inspired by Paul Gustave Fischer’s painting Copenhagen Tram; above.


Day Tripper

It’s really very important not to over-stress,
Try not to do more, but attempt to do less,
Being calm and relaxed is the way to impress,
Take a jaunt on the Cornish Riviera Express.

If life drags you down and you’re feeling shitty,
Jump on board, leave the smoke of the big city,
Countryside scenery is beautifully fresh, so pretty,
Ticket inspector loves a joke, he’s awfully witty.

Chilled and happy you’ll arrive ready for fun,
Rush from the platform like a bullet from a gun,
Looking forward to ice-cream, sandy beaches and hot sun,
First to the parlour, so many flavours, but which one?

It won’t be long before you stop feeling glum,
Talk to the locals make a friendly new chum,
Drink pints of West Country cider and Pirate’s rum,
Careful, not too much, don’t want to fall on one’s bum!

Such fun and don’t worry if you miss the train home,
Stay in a B&B, or guesthouse and write a topical pome,
Not too short, but not to long, we don’t want a tome!
Stroll around Torquay, read it aloud wherever you may roam.

Time to travel back to the city, but darling don’t distress,
You’ll be travelling again on the Cornish Riviera Express,
Visit the dining car for sandwiches of egg and cress,
Arrive in the smoke all rested, happy and refreshed.


229 Words.

Image: bnps.co.uk

Edited from an Original Post on:

Scribblers Forum Thread – Flash Poesy 119 – Railways or Trains [Photo Prompt]

Oh, God.

 

Following on from Dylan Thomas’s birthday on 14th May, below is a piece of Flash Poesy (in Thomas motif) starting with the first line of his Fern Hill poem “Now as I was young and…”.

As seen here… http://scribblers.freeforums.net/thread/498/flash-poesy-31

 

Oh, God

Now as I was young and fresh with belief,
Creator of land with riches bountiful and scarce,
Moulder of dough strata of silts and rock stacked as pancakes,
Former of water, clear as glass, elixir to life,
Air invisible, yet brother wind gives lush green swathes of vegetation movement,
Beautiful bright weeds to majestic kings of the forest.

Symbiotic home to every beast I invented,
All six strands of the glorious animal kingdom:
Amphibious mixers,
Ornithologists’ stimulus,
Colourful aquatic explorers,
Leathery reptilian stalkers,
Mammalian siblings,
And the invertebrates.
Oh, the spineless invertebrates, more numerous than the grains of sand.

Now as I am older and blessed with wisdom,
Standing back behind the audience of men and women,
It is the dominant mankind effect that’s affected the planet,
My naïvety,
Leaving an intelligent human species sole custodian,
A global ecosystem, balanced like a yin yang seesaw,
Now tipping like a pantechnicon of household rubbish.

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