Weekly Short Stories Contest and Company! discussion
Games!
>
Haiku
buzzed with excitement,
he lifted the cover, gasped
and turned into wasp.
he lifted the cover, gasped
and turned into wasp.
Buzzed honey drinkergliding past the hive to land
on poison ivy.
The cleaning ladysprayed wasp man with “Zing!” He cried,
“Death, where is thy sting?”
Wasps riding beetlesfly off with rage- bugged, angry
cars like their cages.
“A date?” How she smirked!When hogs fly, and dirt daubers
drive blue Volkswagens.
To make the hogs fly,he took a Sharpie and drew
swine on his balloons.
"I'll pick you up at seven?"
he said with a grin.
Pink pigs on balloonscaught in spider webs: Charlotte's
last birthday party.
Poor Wilbur's balloonscould not get him high enough
to escape the ham.
Ignorance is blisswhen childhood friends are served as
breakfast under eggs.
Eat your childhood friend?When you must choose between
cannibalism
and starvation, what to do?
Add a little salt.
Some salt in the woundsmade by a desperate hand
seasons the screaming.
Survived pepper sprayand mustard gas in the war:
Seasoned veteran.
With thankful handshakes,many a shout, at war’s end
he was mustard out.
A blood stain is mucheasier to remove than
a rogue mustard splash.
Colonel Mustard said That it was not a bloodstain.
"It is just ketchup."
Banana ketchup,mostly unheard of, leaves
an odd aftertaste.
A nostalgic one,The ketchup of my childhood,
Made from bananas.
Of childhood’s ketchup,manhood’s mustard, comes old age,
engraved in custard.
What she was left withLeft her behind the eight ball
Wanting to catch up.
Sitting on a curbcontemplating the eight ball.
A way to catch up?
The weighty eight ballWas what she was sitting on
Contemplatively.
[Hello Ryan! Yes, I have been in deed and mind a stranger in a strange land! Lol. I am in waiting room, so have some 'forced' free time.]
'Goofball' she called me,before life left us snookered;
our pockets empty.
And as if on cueThe mirror balls turned on
And we danced to live.
He never could dance.whether twist, shuffle, or swing,
he tripped on his feet.
She was tripping onNeon mushrooms and she danced
In a fairy ring.
Alice's Wonderland,dreamt after some bad mushrooms.
Should have had the tea.
The author, Carrol,Hated algebra letters:
Odd, your life on math.
he put two and two
together and came up with
a girl in blue dress
together and came up with
a girl in blue dress
Imprudent deck hands
somersault with sophistry
Alice strives toward home
somersault with sophistry
Alice strives toward home
Alice wandered far
to the equivalent class
where hearts and spades spar
to the equivalent class
where hearts and spades spar
A reed or a hole
Where an olio of dreams
give reflection life
A reed or a hole
where an olio of dreams
Refit existence
Where an olio of dreams
give reflection life
A reed or a hole
where an olio of dreams
Refit existence
Oh me oh my ohMy haiku is abysmal
Stewing in verbals.
That strange word "verbal"
not in my dictionary
Webster's new college
not in my dictionary
Webster's new college
But I did use it
in a sentence once or twice
I do not know why
in a sentence once or twice
I do not know why
The incomplete verbIs a word that almost is
But lacks a true act.
Before there were books
All any word had to be
Was clearly spoken.
The wind is a train
Rides past oak, elm, ash -
to my nose. Ah choo~
or carries oak, elm, juniper
to my nose. Ah choo ~
Rides past oak, elm, ash -
to my nose. Ah choo~
or carries oak, elm, juniper
to my nose. Ah choo ~
the wind is a veil -
overweening daffodils
lift, kissing the air.
overweening daffodils
lift, kissing the air.
The young child's motherFelt overwrought by her child
Now over weaning.
Mother was Opal
fiery yet delicate
A stabilizer
fiery yet delicate
A stabilizer
She was her eye's pearlOpalescent and nacred
A beautiful stone.
Judicious with pearls
The mother milched like an owl
and the child suckled.
The mother milched like an owl
and the child suckled.
The mother missed pearlsAnd being able to drink
Wine; this baby sucked.
pneumatology
cursive winds, grass cloth, water -
we are all children
cursive winds, grass cloth, water -
we are all children
We are all childrengrasping at straws and yearning
for graduation.
We colored in the
lines, then crayons melted down:
Reality check.
Reoccurring dreams:
Naked in front of the class
still, in the boardroom.
I was never free Each action judged and controlled
Afraid to break out
I wake in terror
Of course the monsters are real
Sleep will not return
Weekly Short Stories Contest and Company!
Books mentioned in this topic
Mugging the Muse (other topics)The Raj Quartet (other topics)
Marcovaldo (other topics)
Invisible Cities (other topics)
Confessions of a Taoist on Wall Street (other topics)
More...
Authors mentioned in this topic
David Payne (other topics)Thomas Merton (other topics)
Robert Payne (other topics)
Barbara Gowdy (other topics)
David K. Reynolds (other topics)
rental: bug spray, a breakfast
incontinental.