Weekly Short Stories Contest and Company! discussion
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Haiku
Eyes that were full areempty now, as her tears fell
for his borken vow.
She thought the pain would
never end, and that her heart
couldn't be full again.
Then one day the last
tear drop fell, washing away
her self-imposed hell.
Jagged edges and
open spaces, from pieces
put in wrong places.
A broken heart made
whole again, left with a hole
she could not fill in.
The screams her verse hidgrow faint, a rotting darkness
from which she cringes
in weed-grown alleys
of yawning stalls. Her fingers
roam a cracked fretboard,
her eyes an autumn’s
raking light on flaking paint,
on wrought-iron hinges,
across laths that show
like teeth from walls in high rooms
where old trunks are stored.
This is a reply to Ryan’s #7451:Lost in the cosmos,
he took out a long vial. One
sample would suffice.
Carefully he turned
the dial on the patented
space-saving device.
In her new patent leather bikini, Deep Space
Barbie looked dreamy.
And as Ken saw her
raw appeal, he could only
wish they were real.
My child, with green eyesAre they like yours? I think so
My envy-filled green heart
Just because she's prettyDoes that mean that she's so great
You love her, so no
Space-saving device - gold!These are all really fun to read. Nice work!
Here’s my reply to Mandy’s #7459:Stacked, on a diet
low carby (no more of that
creamy linguine),
my hourglass deep-
space Barbie, in her patent-
leather bikini.
Barb lunched and gossipedwith the ladies. She owned stock
in Exxon and Shell.
She drove her ragtop,
midnight-blue Mercedes like
a bat out of hell.
Sometimes she pulled in
at Ben & Jerry’s. Sometimes
she wore fishnet hose.
Sometimes she cranked up
the Raspberries or ABBA
on her in-dash Bose.
Lol! M! Thank you, a very nice start to my day :)
Just surface appeal,she was Malibu real;
all glitz and glamour.
Shallow and easy,
and tabloid sleazy. In love
with any spotlight.
Famous for mistakes,
and her Hollywood heartbreaks;
it ended one night.
When out of no where
the world ceased to care, it had
found a bigger wreck.
I love that! “ Shallow and easy, / and tabloid sleazy.” Great writing, Mandy. A display of verbal fireworks.
Her hair was so dyed,it made her wild-eyed. Her tires
squealed through Malibu.
Maddened by rinses,
she plowed through fences, then sank
in bubbling goo.
What matter the lights,
the advertised nights, the cost
of the clothes she wore?
Once in the tar pit,
she had to admit she was
now a dinosaur.
These last few are exceptionally fine, M. And Mandy, #7467 is one of my new personal favorites. Brilliant on so many levels.
A new kind of star,looks can take you far; with no
more use for talent.
Instead make stupid
jokes, and embarass your folks,
just to pay the rent.
A job is real
work, it's easier to twerk;
what harm could it be?
Ask the same question
again, when your children say,
"Look I found Mommy."
Thanks M and Ryan, this has been so much fun.
In Malibu rags,a startling find: well-preserved,
my mummy, enshrined.
Hey, thanks! I don't think it's a shade on those it follows, but I appreciate the nice comments.Keep 'em coming, these are wonderful.
Oh mummy dearest,who had the nerve, to wrap you
in Smucker's perserves.
"Money for jam," theembalmer said. "The world loves
my Mama-lade spread."
We promise she won't go bad, if your mummy's wrapped
in products from Glad.
"There's fun to be hadwhen mummies go bad. Yo! Yo!"
rapped my DJ mum.
Yo-Yo Ma could makeevery eye wet, as he played
for Pharaoh Fawcett.
Tut got up, each nightat six for Angels reruns
played on Network Styx.
Hungry for silenceI project a sonata
Over forte chords
A common ballad
All the songs I've heard before
About shorter skirts
You would serenade
All of the other girls and
Forget about me
Boy with a coin heLeft underneath my broken
Heart; that's what he needs.
I was laughing at Mandy’s “Pharaoh Fawcett.” It seemed uproariously funny. I thought she had made it up. Then I Googled it. There is such a thing.The Styx Network is my favorite!
Rachel, these are beautiful!
In moonlit measures,her slow fall and rise, her steps
wildly search elm shade
as faint passages
of high strings streak a dream’s skies
that gleam and then fade.
Another "American Sentence," because I feel, as usual, the need to be different - which for me is the norm."This Chelsea morning defines anticipation as pure mystery."
M wrote: "That breaks up nicely into 5-7-5!"Some days ago I wrote that Alan Ginsberg proposed "The American Sentence" as the American version of Japanese Haiku. It also has 17 syllables, but does not require the breakdown into phrases. They are fun to do, and have a rhythm of their own.
As her long fingerstouched the crystal flute, she glimpsed
one summer’s lightplay
on waves, the splashing
children now mute in the depths
of the chardonnay.
Children of the vineSpinning drunk about Maypoles
Flowers in their hair
They scattered blossoms,wove in their hair irises
and spider lilies.
Caught in a web of tangled love, and seeing the
world thru stained-glass dreams.
And as the stems diedand the blooms faded and dried
she shaved her scalp bare.
These are all very beautiful. Some stunning images and ideas.
Thank you, Ryan. Beautiful, Paula. (But how to follow it?)Her long, tawny hair
was put into a drawer
that now has a lock.
When they met her heartwas broken, so he fell in
love with her pieces.
I’ll not slyly wink,nor mention which pieces got
the most attention.
Weekly Short Stories Contest and Company!
Books mentioned in this topic
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Marcovaldo (other topics)
Invisible Cities (other topics)
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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)
Your throat parched, under
a blued-steel sky, at last
see, with eyes hollowed,
what few broken brick
still lie at the briered end
of a canyon road.