The Silver BMW… #Poetry

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The Silver BMW

I was born to love life, unfortunately

 Some two-wheeled idiot took it from me.

I lay on the road not feeling anything

I heard myself say, “Why can’t I feel anything?”

To the left of me, a voice said

 “Guess you’re dead mate.”

There was no one there. The ambulance had taken my body.

Someone had taken the kid from the bike and

I could see myself wrapped around the handlebars.

As a flat truck loaded me and the bike on board

I didn’t fancy spending eternity

Wrapped around this piece of shit

Besides, they were going to strip and squash it.

Again with the disembodied voice

“You just need to know how to get off it.”

“Great, any idea how I can do that?”

Nothing, Silence. Suddenly I am being taken.

A light so bright if I had earth eyes, I would be blind.

“You saved me once, now it is my turn.”

That damn voice the last thing I remember.

I awoke in the hospital, my leg in plaster

Wondering whom I had saved.

A young lady entered the room

Carrying a balloon and flowers

She thanked me for pushing her

Away from an oncoming bike

Leaving me to wonder what went on

In my mind, mangled on that pavement.

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#Flash Fiction Challenge for Carrot Ranch Literary Community #Poetry

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Old thoughts

The road behind me looks thin, worn out

Too many people have trod this thin strip of memory

Wet tarmac shines back. Old thoughts lay forgotten

Old memories drop like winter leaves

Old friends come to mind

Too many lost to time

The road that lives behind me

Where memories linger, waiting to be revisited

There are many passages in my past

That are worth revisiting

Others I should leave in the dark

Looking back, digging over old ground

Isn’t the best use of your time

If you look back far enough

You’ll meet yourself coming around the bend…

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#Blog Battle: Flower #Poetry

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Our BlogBattle Entry

Nature

Flowers, Nature’s smile

Not everyone loves them

Especially when they grow

 In all the wrong places.

On walls, cracks in pavements

Mostly considered weeds

Not put there by the hand of man

Trying to put Nature in a box.

They cling to the tiniest piece of dust

They survive, no matter the tidy minds

Who try to suppress them.

I have a small bouquet

Of pink and white daisies

Growing on my front door mat.

As I place my key in the front door

I enter with a smile.

I cannot tell you how many

People have said get rid

For they spread like wildfire

I cannot do that.

As I sit drinking coffee

I wonder if that small bouquet

Of happiness might have been left

After a fairy wedding

However they came to be there

I am grateful.

I believe it is best to live and let live

Who can determine another’s true path?

I wonder if placing your opinion on others

Changes their course of destiny…

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January 2019 Blog Battle

Our word this month is:

Flower

You can start writing at any time, but make sure you post your story by the 30th of the month.

Once you’ve posted your story to your blog, put a link to it in the comments section, and we’ll add your story to the Battle Stories Line-up post.

Make sure to check back and read some of the stories of your fellow battlers. Leave comments to encourage these writers, and share each other’s stories!

The battler who is chosen in a given month will have the opportunity to be interviewed!

Basic Rules:

The Prompt Word will be given the First Tuesday of Every Month.

Post your story by the 30th of the Same Month.

RULES

  1. 1000 words max (give or take a few)
  2. fictional tale (or true if you really want)
  3. Any genre that fits within PG-13 (or less) Content – let’s keep this family friendly!
  4. Your story must contain the randomly chosen word(s) and/or be centered around the word meaning in a way that shows it is clearly related.
  5. Go for the entertainment value!
  6. Put a link back to your #BlogBattle Short Story in the comments section
  7. Please tweet and otherwise share your battler buddies’ stories across social media.
    1. Use the hashtag #BlogBattle when tweeting all the stories so we can cross-share.
  8. Have fun!

#Small Bites: Carpe Diem #Poetry

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Carpe Diem

If up is down then I’m a clown

For I don’t have a clue

My mind I thought was straight enough

Yet I find myself inside out.

My thoughts go backward

Like the TV, I need rewinding

The clock is ticking, my time is passing

My plan today is to get a grip

Wind the clock and start the day

Catch my thoughts before they slip

Seize the Day!

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#Wordle 382 #Poetry

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  Prince Charming

I am always looking for that lucky charm

That hits you like a lover’s kiss

Blue lightning that fills the air with magic.

That special touch that lets you know

 That everything is all right.

Life will not spin out of control

Let the wind howl, I have a

Hundred reasons to be happy.

Learn to play, something I miss.

Take a train, find a new adventure

Make a plan for my future

Wind in my neck, stop looking at the dark side of life

Forget that one who left me on Christmas Eve

Find a new lovers kiss

Maybe this time I will find Prince Charming…

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Colleen’s Weekly #Poetry Challenge…

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Although Colleen is busy catching up on work projects, she has provided us with prompts so we can still write our poems! So here’s Anita’s!

 

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Seek

The light

Test yourself

Breathe the sweet air

Find where you belong

Let love into your heart

Step out of the dark, take aim

Find that one special person now

Let your dreams be bigger than before

Let love take you to old age together…

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#Writephoto: Beneath /The Pompey Bookshop…

https://scvincent.com/2018/12/13/thursday-photo-prompt-beneath-writephoto/

 

 

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The Pompey Bookshop

“I love the smell of this old place, don’t you, Fred?”

“Yer, it smells of death, all that paper and old trees whispering. You found anything good to read yet?”

“Not so far. Quiet, here comes one now. I wonder what she’s looking for? Watch out, she’s coming your way, to the esoteric stuff. She’s looking for a little magic…”

“Let’s give her some, drop a book on her.”

“I can’t do that, Fred. It might hurt her, besides, she’s troubled. Can’t you see the sadness in her eyes? Can’t you feel it?”

“Yer, yer. I thought we could have a bit of fun for a change.”

“Trouble with you Fred, you are a good ghost. You don’t hear too much about good spooks these days. Maybe we can help her out. One of these old trees might be of some use. This one for instance, How to Find your Own Bliss.”

“Go ahead then Jim. Poke it out, your best at that, but don’t be too heavy-handed. Don’t want it dropping on her head, remember?”

Jim did his best and the book moved slowly, sticking out about two inches, but the woman didn’t notice it had moved.

“Damn…” Jim said.

“Now what?”

“If I push any harder it’s going to fall…”

“Let me help, I’ll play with her hair to make her look up. You push.”

 

Alice touched the top of her head. Must be her nerves, she thought, it felt like fingers playing with her hair.

Jim pushed and the book fell at her feet. Picking it up, Alice read the blurb on the back and decided to take it. She continued her search, her fingers brushing against the spines, the pages inside rippling at her touch.

“You can stop playing with her hair now, Fred. You’re messing with the pages. They’re getting all excited, thinking they might be read. They don’t know how lucky they are. Luck, maybe that’s what she needs. After all, that’s what the Pompey Bookshop is all about, helping people to find what they need.”

“Good idea. No pushing this time. Look, she’s still stroking the spines. She’s coming up to the one with the green spine, that one will make her hand tingle…”

“Which one are you on about, Fred?”

“That one, “Luck Made Easy”. It’s a big book so will need both of us.”

“Ready? Now…”

Alice snatched her hand away from the book, her hand stinging.

“Now see what you’ve done. You’ve come on too strong…”

“She might not be brave enough to touch it again. She must believe in stuff like this or she wouldn’t be here. Make it glow, Fred!”

“It’s almost closing time, Mr. Pompey will be looking to see if the shop’s empty before lights out.”

The book had moved out of line just a bit and was glowing. Alice found some courage and pulled it out. She almost ran to the till.

“You’re our last customer of the day, Miss. Have a good evening.”

Alice’s thank you was barely a whisper as she made her way to the door.

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“Good job done there, Fred…”

“Let’s hope so, Jim. I reckon she ‘ll find just what she needs between them old leaves. “

“Night, Fred…”

“See you come morning. Jim.”

The bookshop didn’t sleep. The leaves between all the book covers were too busy whispering to each other as beneath the ancient bookshop a strange energy began to stir.

Fred and Jim could feel it. They whispered to each from force of habit but no one could hear them. They agreed that this young woman was destined for great things. “We will hear about her soon, Fred. Keep an eye out for the paper when he brings it in…”

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#writephoto

Colour me Red… #Poetry

 

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Image by Pixabay.com

 

 

Colour me Red

A friend asked me the other day

What colour do you see yourself as?

I think colour depends on my mood or need

I am light blue when I need understanding

Which is often.

Blue when I need wisdom

A little healing when my body is less than tip-top.

Dreamscape allows me to remember

Lying in the sea, surrounded by blue water

Blue skies above

I am the filling in the sandwich

It feels good to be comforted

Best of all, held by gentle blue hands

Now the day ahead will work.

So when I need to, I remember

And all is well

I rarely see myself as pink

Too fluffy for me

I should try it, as it helps with success

I love a good orange and not only to eat

I see myself when I need energy to boost my imagination

To fill my mind and body with life.

Sometimes I need brown when dealing with family issues

Brown is helpful for grace, something

I am not known for, but  I do try.

I think green when I need a bit of good luck

When buying that lottery ticket.

Everyone in the shop turns green

Not hit the big one yet

But do quite well with this.

Yellow for me if very helpful

When I need to be creative when writing

Craftwork, thinking, which I do a lot of the time

It is almost a hobby.

White, when I feel the need for protection

I see myself and my family walking under

The light of a full moon twenty-four seven.

Red, I mostly think of as my own colour,

A child of Mars, I love with a fire that never dies

Very helpful when courage is needed

You can fight your way through anything when you turn red

Purple feeds my ambition when I feel it fading

I turn purple to keep my ambition alive

Helping me never let my dreams die

Black whenever I feel threatened by seen or unseen elements

Black helps to keep unwanted guests, thoughts out of my life

I realise I have just painted myself a very strange rainbow…

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#Wordle 381 #Poetry #Challenge

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My Way

Where do dreams go when we wake?

A word, once it is spoken

Do they linger on the air?

A silent echo that no one hears

Others we know nothing about?

From some distant galaxy

That   frame  our lives in such a way

That we walk around in the same space

Use the same old thoughts, feelings

Marionettes, dancing to someone else’s tune

Do we shrug our shoulders?

Walk through a fog, each day the same?

Do we hope to find a secret key

To set us right to find new thoughts

They are out there, I feel them on the edge of my mind

I reach for them and they vanish like soap bubbles

With luck, I know they will return

That eureka moment that takes you away

From the dark empty side of the mind

To find your own light at last

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Colleen’s Weekly #Poetry Challenge… #Nonet

Colleen’s Weekly #Tanka Tuesday #Poetry Challenge No. 113, Happy December! Poets Choice of Words

 

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Broken Ground

I fight my way back through snow and rain

My home close, I see chimney smoke

Windows lit by lanterns glow

My path lay deep with snow

The lake forgotten

I hear the sound

Ice cracking

Beneath

Cold

Ground

Feet wet

Sinking fast

My heart freezing

Hope disappearing

I am lost to this world

My voice blown back by the wind

No help has come to pull me free

I pray the Lord, my soul he will free…

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For Colleen’s Weekly Poetry Challenge, you can write your poem in one of the forms defined below. Click on the link to learn about each type:

HAIKU IN ENGLISH 5/7/5 syllable structure. A Haiku is written about seasonal changes, nature, and change ingeneral.

TANKA IN ENGLISH 5/7/5/7/7 syllable structure. Your Tanka will consist of five lines written in the first-person point of view. This is important because the poem should be written from the perspective of the poet.

HAIBUN IN ENGLISH Every Haibun must begin with a title. Haibun prose is composed of short, descriptive paragraphs, written in the first-person singular.

The text unfolds in the present moment, as though the experience is occurring now rather than yesterday or some time ago. In keeping with the simplicity of the accompanying haiku or tanka poem, all unnecessary words should be pared down or removed. Nothing must ever be overstated.

The poetry never tries to repeat, quote, or explain the prose. Instead, the poetry reflects some aspect of the prose by introducing a different step in the narrative through a microburst of detail. Thus, the poetry is a sort of juxtaposition – different yet somehow connected.

Cinquain ALSO: Check out the Cinquainvariations listed here: Cinquain-Wikipedia These are acceptable methods to use also. Please add what forms you are using so we can learn from you.

Etheree The Etheree poem consists of ten lines of 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10 syllables. Etheree can also be reversed and written 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1. The trick is to create a memorable message within the required format. Poets can get creative and write an Etheree with more than one verse, but the idea is to follow suit with an inverted syllable count. Reversed Etheree Syllable Count: 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1 Double Etheree Syllable Count: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 10, 9, 8, 7, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1

Senryu in English 5/7/5 syllable structure. A Senryu is written about love, a personal event, and have IRONY present. Click the link to learn the meaning of irony.

Nonet: The Nonet poem is similar to the Etheree, but with only nine lines. The first line has nine syllables, the second line eight syllables, the third line seven syllables, etc… until line nine finishes with one syllable. It can be written about any subject and should not rhyme.

After writing a double Nonet, the visual image result is that of an hourglass shape. Because of this shape, these poems often discuss the passage of time.

Shadorma: The Shadorma is a poetic form consisting of a six-line stanza (or sestet). Each stanza has a syllable count of three syllables in the first line, five syllables in the second line, three syllables in the third and fourth lines, seven syllables in the fifth line, and five syllables in the sixth line (3/5/3/3/7/5) for a total of 26 syllables.

When writing a Shadorma I would concentrate on a specific subject. The brevity of syllables is perfect for that kind of structure.

A poem may consist of one stanza or an unlimited number of stanzas (a series of shadormas).