Weekly Short Stories Contest and Company! discussion

With a prince like that
the Queen in the guilt mirror
went for the blue pill.

*



The Prince swept Snow off
Her feet, then dumped her for the
One in the tower

Was her dress sheerer?
She squinted in the mirror,
her eyes now blearer.

Her beauty split off
at the ends of her split hair,
her future in strands.

Her fate in her hands,
her fingers in her long hair,
moonlight on the strands.

The moonlight circled
her fingers, coiling around
dry bones and powder.

A match spit and flared.
Sparks and smoke followed the fuse.
Hair and dry bones flew.

I just started a haiku thread in another group, based on this one Jessica started. It isn’t my style to be explicit, but it’s amazing how explicit you can be with implication. (It's a group that’s no place for minors.) Here’s one of the last ones I posted:

She talked with her legs,
and the things they had to say
convinced me at once.

Be careful, Alex! The most dangerous things aren’t explicit.

M wrote: "I just started a haiku thread in another group, based on this one Jessica started. It isn’t my style to be explicit, but it’s amazing how explicit you can be with implication. (It's a group that’s ..."
:-) M I just visited it! DCC can write - how am I going to keep up?!

And while this is excellent!

She talked with her legs,
and the things they had to say
convinced me at once.

My perverse little brain so wanted it to scan:

She talked with her legs,
and the things they had to say
convinced me to stay.

Wow, have you guys been busy! Doesn't anyone here have a real life? (Who am I to talk, of course.)

Anyway,

That they reached the floor
gave hope that her legs would grace
the path to my heart.

Laughed while trying to swallow your spit!? You sure you weren't just spitting at my verbiage! LoL. Glad you're okay! And that's Fiennes (I think - no I didn't check either). He has become the rather unattractive Voldermort in my mind's eye!

She came to his house
with the hope that he'd see her
not just her ankles.

Good night!

HA! HAHAHAHAHAHA! His birthday suit? HAHAHA!! :D

I never said what her legs convinced him of. She may have had fat legs or unshapely (what they used to call “piano legs”), that convinced him to melt into the crowd or make haste in the other direction.

When he saw her feet,
he guessed Darlene was the kind
who live in salons.

Yes, M, but what was not said was made very explicit!

Her face and loose lips
peeled canvas fibers in strips
with her flat, light lisp.

*



Her lips caress mine
Sending warm chills up my spine
And our lives align

Perfect rhyme, Kat!


I knew by the drapes
she’d been here. They hung in shreds
from her chalkboard lisp.

The shredded draper
lisped her name in warp and weft
of crumpled linen.

What he had dreaded
was that Marvilene’s sharp tongue
would leave him shredded.

*



This feeling of dread
Eats away in my stomach
Corroding my mind

What was there to do
but take phenobarbitol
and chew up some Tums?

*



Life has chewed me up
And spat me back into the
Fast flowing river

Chewed pieces of me
float down the Mississippi,
spun by each eddy.

I end, a trickle
soliciting something mad,
something new and had.

I start, am fickle
teasing from life something bad,
something trite and sad.

What to cook tonight?
Hmm. I’ll mix up something trite,
a delicious bite!

*



The fangs sank into
His soft, silky skin and I
Drank up my dinner

Chunks of human flesh
are not so despicable
if seasoned with thyme.

There was a time when
the act of eating with you
did not click your bones.

But that was before
you died and I dug you up.
You’re much more fun now!

All nerves, her husband.
She tried giving him a bath.
He went to pieces.

Nothing left but bones
and hair. Emily scrubbed him
and bleached him with care.

Then she phoned Maxwell
& Sons, suppliers to med-
schools, of skeletons.

LoL! Too, too good!

Thanks, Guy! I thoroughly enjoy writing this sort of thing.

How do you like the BH's spin on this game? (I'm supposed to be working right now, and so am unable to concentrate on creating anything nearing the creativity here!)

Ran out of toothpicks.
I strummed tendons with chopsticks
and sharpened new bones.

I asked Nelda Jean
why she liked that greasy spoon.
“They have good toothpicks.”

They get right between
the gaps of my crooked teeth,
all I really need.

Before hemorrhoids
and dentures, O what steak nights,
toothpick adventures!

A toothpick stake out.
Hot wings, hot sauce and prayer.
Strong coffees and tums.

*



Coffee is the drink
Of the day, energizing
and enriching us.

lol



Once a month is not
Enough, I need to see you
Every single day

OMG! Thats funny, and bad, at the same time XD



I really wish my
Thumb drive would please come to me
NaNo WriMo waits

Blank pages mock me
as I strain toward the hundreds,
not thousands. Hundreds.

*



The writing won't stop
Never, in a hundred years
Did I wish for this

Kat, that is excellent! Loved it.

thanks Guy :)

You guys are night owls! Here are a few that occurred to me a few minutes ago, while I was ironing a pair of pants.

Not to write thick reams
of twaddle, but one sentence
recalled for ages.

Living, not reading
or writing, gives a writer
something worth saying.

She was diagnosed
with verbal diarrhea.
Prescription: hard times.

I wouldn’t bother
to read the kind of novel
anyone could write.