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Literature
Metta
Sometimes
when I fear that no one knows me,
I remind myself:
You are stars and indigo
jewel blue
and wide-ruled lines.
And this isn't loneliness.
It’s a delight to be a mystery.
No one can know your soul,
how it seeps into the cracks and crevasses of the world,
what little thrills it will delight in.
It's yours alone.
Literature
snowglobe
we hoped it would get bad enough to break glass
that one of our voices
would find the note
to split the window
make a neighbour call the cops
that the dishes would shatter
into too many pieces
to be picked off the floor
we wanted glass in our heels
a trickle of heat
a flicker of colour
in the sun-blank snow
the pines leaned on our doorframe
we waited for them
to pressure in and unfurl
shower our stunned faces
in a rain of needles
knock the teapot off the table
in a blossom of shards
but the trees stood by
evergreen and identical
the same dream of pine repeating
behind yellowing plastic
we painted shut the door
with smi
Literature
99 Drums
There were ninety-nine drums in the line, speaking loudly
about thin white blankets, bedsores, red Jell-O, disease
About the sky cracking and falling to earth in sharp pieces
About the old nodding out more frequently now, their
bodies shutting down for the last time, faint groans and sighs
The buttons have been pushed in sequence, no return now
Crossword puzzle books and Uno cards abandoned, TV
unwatched, drums drop out one by one until at last only
silence
Not even shouting down the halls, but whispers
I remember the trees were just beginning to turn when you left
And how a hard driving rain swept across the grounds
The sky cried all night
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FFM #31.
...FlashFictionMonth is over. It's over. It's amazing. And over.
This is a 369 bit, 3 linked 69-word stories on a typical theme.
The title refers to a wall hanging my parents have prominently a few places in their home, which reads "I AM THIRD" and the meaning of which you should be able to figure out from the above.
This skirts autobiography in a few places, as these are rooted in my own experiences, but they are all fiction. I hope you enjoy.
PS: Eric, I love you.
...FlashFictionMonth is over. It's over. It's amazing. And over.
This is a 369 bit, 3 linked 69-word stories on a typical theme.
The title refers to a wall hanging my parents have prominently a few places in their home, which reads "I AM THIRD" and the meaning of which you should be able to figure out from the above.
This skirts autobiography in a few places, as these are rooted in my own experiences, but they are all fiction. I hope you enjoy.
PS: Eric, I love you.
Mature
© 2009 - 2024 ShadowedAcolyte
Comments10
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I love, love, LOVE the structure of the first section. Dialogue, commentary. It is perfect for how those conversations go...mine, of course, went a little differently a few years back, but the overall effect was the same. You are spot on! I can hear your dad and mine. *shiver*
In fact, I love everything except maybe the second half of the last line, which doesn't quite fit with the show-don't-tell of the rest of the piece. But with 69 words, I don't know what else you could do...ride off into the sunset with Eric by your side?
In fact, I love everything except maybe the second half of the last line, which doesn't quite fit with the show-don't-tell of the rest of the piece. But with 69 words, I don't know what else you could do...ride off into the sunset with Eric by your side?