Experimenting With Creative Writing
Behold, teleportation!
Behold, a new way of travelling!
A teleportation device is unravelling!
All you need is a clicker,
To travel much quicker!
I know it all sounds rather baffling.
Oh, what would I give
For the news that we can see
Those we love, safely.
In response to the thirteenth “tomorrow’s news” prompt from NaPoWriMo.net, inspired by a prompt from Sundress Publications.
A limerick for fun, but a haiku to remove the mask, if you will.
I woke up on my 20th birthday with a sore head. I remember the clinking of glasses, the vibrations of the speakers, and the roll of the dice across the breakfast bar, from the night before. I smiled at the thought of celebrating late into the night with my friends.
It was time to smarten myself up ready to catch the train back home. I smeared foundation over the bags under my eyes.
Upon returning home, I saw a giant balloon with a hand-written 20 on it. I enjoyed a buffet with my mother and grandparents. I smiled at the thought of celebrating all day long with my family.
My mood is lifted,
Contrasting celebrations.
I smile at the thought.
In response to dVerse’s Birthday Haibun Challenge found here
I am a gossip.
For I am the telephone.
I narrate stories,
Tales of the day. Need me?
I am just one call away.
In response to dVerse’s I Am prompt found here
Remember the day we became friends?
If only a childhood never ends.
Our friendship ignited like sawdust to an ember,
In my club, you were the only member.
We hated ballet slippers and leotards,
So we would sneak away for a game of cards.
We would always hide in the shadows,
Avoiding the colour of a kitten’s nose.
Remember when we missed the school bus?
We hid behind the shelter, so it left without us.
Instead we disappeared to a distant bay,
And pranced around endless dunes all day.
You were always the apple of my eye,
I know who to call for an alibi.
Image credit: pixabay.com
In response to Paint Chip Poetry Prompt #23 found here
There is no need to sever the atmosphere,
Which lingers like smog, between you.
Instead, swallow the bitter taste of fury,
Or let it lie stagnant in your heart, festering.
It will only grow tough, unshakable layers,
As it will not disintegrate.
Is anything better left unsaid?
Why don’t you put these fumes to bed?
You weren’t the first. Perhaps if you were, it wouldn’t have cut me so deep. I wouldn’t have become so numb. I may have even found forgiveness.
So unexpectedly, you cut me out of your life, as though I was a jagged edge on a piece of paper. Something so easily discarded without a second thought.
For a while, I wondered, perhaps I did something wrong? I tried to make amends, but I meant so little to you that I wasn’t even worthy of a response. It dawned on me that I held no value in your eyes.
So when you walked back into my life, did you really expect me to have left that space inside my heart all warm, cosy, and welcoming?
I have grieved, I have found acceptance, and to save myself, I have lost my respect for you.
You weren’t the first.
You won’t be the last.
When reunited,
I will crumble. Won’t quite catch
My breath. Console me.
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