Tag Archives: #p0eticlicense

Thursday Inspiration 13

Welcome to Thursday Inspiration! This is my weekly prompt post and hopefully it will inspire you to write something creative, perhaps a poem or a piece of flash fiction. If you’d like to share your writing with the community, please indulge me and tag your post with #p0eticlicense and/or #lightm0tifs, and of course link back if you wish. I will try to visit everyone who participates. 🙂

This week’s theme is sailing and the picture is below. Here is the song snippet from “Sailing,” written by Gavin Sutherland in 1972 (interestingly about spirituality not romance) and sung by Rod Stewart:

I am sailing
I am sailing
Home again
‘Cross the sea
I am sailing,
Stormy waters
To be near you,
To be free

Photo found on Pixabay

The Quiet Life [fiction 325]

“There she is!”

“Oh, my God! She’s really alive.”

“Can you believe it? After all these years!”

The Countess waved gracefully to the crowd gathered on the lawn. She had agreed to answer a few questions and pointed to a reporter near the edge of the stone steps. Two armed guards stood at the bottom of each side of the steps, ostensibly to deter anyone from coming too close.

“Countess Greta,” the reporter said. “It’s so good to see you again. What inspired you to emerge from your solitude?”

Greta smiled and indicated the perfectly maintained grounds. “I wanted a fresh lemon for my afternoon tea.”

Everyone laughed politely. It wasn’t a real answer, for they all knew the Countess could summon a servant to fetch a lemon.

Another reporter asked, “We were used to seeing you dressed in mourning black. Does your more colorful attire signal a change in your lifestyle as well? Will you be entering society again?”

The crowd murmured. It was a bold question, to indirectly refer to the death of the Count. No one really knew what had happened, though of course there were many stories and rumors, some of them bordering on the scandalous and vile.

But Greta appeared unfazed. She touched the lace of her heather pink dress and said, “Oh, thank you for noticing my gown. It is springtime after all. But I do prefer the quiet life of reading poetry and painting watercolors in my studio.”

A few more questions followed regarding her taste in poets and such. One of the guards subtly shifted position, at which point, the Countess said, “It’s been lovely chatting with you all. We shall do it again soon.” With that, she disappeared back into the cavernous castle.

“She has so much class.”

“So ephemeral.

“Such a great beauty, even now.”

“How old is she? Does anyone know?”

“The guards seemed more concerned with keeping her in than keeping us out.”

~*~

Written for The Daily Echo

Thursday Inspiration 12

Welcome to Thursday Inspiration! This is my weekly prompt post and hopefully it will inspire you to write something creative, perhaps a poem or a piece of flash fiction. If you’d like to share your writing with the community, please indulge me and tag your post with #p0eticlicense and/or #lightm0tifs, and of course link back if you wish. I will try to visit everyone who participates. 🙂

This week’s theme is garden and the picture is below. Here is the song snippet from “Octopus’s Garden,” written by Richard Starkey in 1969:

I‘d like to be under the sea
In an octopus’ garden in the shade
He’d let us in, knows where we’ve been
In his octopus’ garden in the shade

Photo found on Pixabay

In Other Words, voices…

Loud voices, soft voices, voices all a-buzz…

Sweet voices, sad voices, voices that I love…

Voices singing, yelling, cursing, praising,

Barking, humming, meowing, blazing…

WILL YOU ALL JUST SHUT UP PLEASE SO I CAN WRITE IN PEACE!?!?!

The Last Firewall

She’d dreamt this moment

Into being, and behold!

His fearsome form appeared

Like an emerald angel,

Launched from the stars.

No angel he, but a vengeful beast,

Intent on destruction, far and wide.

That’s why she’d been hidden here,

Behind the last firewall,

Safe from the dragon’s ire.

They’d built an asbestos tower

To keep her from her prince,

Yet here he was, anger flowing

In molten streams of red and gold,

But accomplishing nothing.

She waited, wondering…

What would be his strategy?

Surely he would rescue her,

Not fail, after coming this far.

But he drank from the moat

Of Hypnos and lay down to sleep.

She cried bitter tears

That turned into a river of ice;

If only he’d known

He could have whispered her name

And the gate

Would have opened.

Keep It Down

Spectators gathered

In the alley.

There seemed to be an

Impromptu play happening

About noise, with a catch–

There were no words.

Mimes conveyed a bitter,

Twisted drama

To an enthralled crowd.

The mimes writhed

And expressed every

Sick, tortured emotion

With their graceful bodies

And supple faces.

Finally, the one killed the other

For gesturing too loudly;

It was not a match

Made in silent heaven.

Thursday Inspiration 11

Welcome to Thursday Inspiration! This is my weekly prompt post and hopefully it will inspire you to write something creative, perhaps a poem or a piece of flash fiction. If you’d like to share your writing with the community, please indulge me and tag your post with #p0eticlicense and/or #lightm0tifs, and of course link back if you wish. I will try to visit everyone who participates. 🙂

This week’s theme is sand and the picture is below. Here is the song snippet from “Song of Sand,” written by Suzanne Vega in 1992:

If sand waves were sound waves 
What song would be in the air now
What stinging tune
Could split this endless noon
And make the sky swell with rains

Photo found on Pixabay

In Other Words, fireworks…

Fireworks are fun when professionally done,

But setting them off in the street is just idiotic.

They scare all our pets and make such a mess!

So, unless you’re doing a Boston Tea (and invite me),

Remember that lawbreaking is not patriotic!

Dreams

Bubbles form and float in the deep…

Thought waves building as I sleep;

Jumbled dreams crash to the shore,

Tickling my consciousness

With the hiss of ideas

And ebbing away once more.

I wake in the dark and everything seems

Possible; I’m energized with the drive

To change my life today…

But I drift off with the waves;

My dreams dissolve,

As if they never knew the warmth

Of the fine sand

Or the infinite paths

Out of the swirling sea.

Time Pieces

She smashed the clocks,

Flung the watches off the dock,

Determined to outwit time.

She covered the windows

So day became night;

Not a ray of sunshine

Found its way inside.

Prowling the quiet halls,

She owned the darkness;

Her face remained unlined,

Her body graceful as a child’s,

As everyone she knew died.

Eventually, her house crumbled,

The walls collapsing to dust,

And she stood alone in the rain.

A new world sputtered to life,

Full of hollow fluttering things,

And she became its cursed ruler.

She stared at the silent lake,

That graveyard of timepieces,

And knew a different kind of chain.

Perhaps she had made a mistake.

~*~

Fandango’s Flash Fiction Challenge