Or, if you prefer to read the story:
I once lived in an old house
haunted by a formless shadow
Mom died as she gave birth to Tye
my two-year old babbling brother
I don’t blame anyone for her death
but I do of that depth-less darkness
that devoured Daddy
Bunnies of assorted colors
scampered around the child
in attempt to lead her
from the horde of flesh eaters
*Another poem I wrote for #StorySaturday. This week’s prompt was bunnies. And of course, I couldn’t write anything cozy or cuddly 😉
“The oceans” was the prompt for this week’s #StorySaturday (Twitter). I wrote this micro-story kind of as a memoir of my personal experiences with water, and how it impacted me.
I grew up around water
in the High Peaks of the Adirondacks
the river ran wild
its’ roars beat within me like a hammer
Then came the ocean of the Outer Banks
its rolling waves on the sandy shore
calm the racing of that heart
and created a sense of peace
I’ve never experienced
Now I live in the open expanse of the plains
where the ocean is only a memory
but a memory that I can revisit
for as long as this heart beats
“Water is the driving force of all nature.” – Leonardo da Vinci
I wrote this short poem for #StorySaturday (Twitter). Today’s Teddy Bear Day and being me, I couldn’t write a nice and sweet poem-it had to be twisted and scary.
The girl hides under
the folds of the quilted cover
with her teddy bear
Murky shadows move
with an un-natural purpose
to claim and possess
When she opens her
eyes only to see the rising
sun, her bear on the
She reaches for it and
embraces the toy to her wet face
and receives the scent
Can you help me with giving this poem a title? Place your suggestions in the comment section below. 😉
This haiku was prompted by the “elephants” theme over at @storysaturday on Twitter.
This poem was prompted by a “moon” theme over at @storysaturday on Twitter.
As she walks across the meadow she could almost hear the voices of past lives echoing through the sparsely forested terrain; with the breeze caressing her body, their faint howling cries icing her to the core with haunting images of despair and betrayal.
*Inspired by article, Site of Deadliest Native American Massacre Identified in Idaho
The ocean water
oh so blue and clear…but
when she peers down into
the salty sea
the last thing she’d see
are those black, doll eyes
It isn’t the mountains that need to be feared; but the shadows that accompany the daunting peaks as they tend to claim all who enter within.
*Inspired in part by article, Does Vermont Have Its Own Version of the Bermuda Triangle?
The patties sizzled in the flames as the crowd eagerly waits; he wonders if they’ll notice his missing wife.
before the bench where he last saw her
Shadows from nearby trees nearly engulfing it
as the sun lowered in the smoke-glazed sky
She had on her gray pantsuit with a silky blouse
its’ color matched her sea-blue eyes
He set the ash-covered helmet on the wood
and as if pressed down with a heavy weight, he dropped
to one knee and bowed his head, tears trickling down his grime-stained face
Fires he could fight, but not the monstrosity he witnessed on that fateful day
One by one, his brothers fell as with the towers
Did she too?
Perhaps she’ll suddenly appear like an angel he knew her to be-
or, was she lost somewhere in the rubbles of mangled steel and crushed cement?
Time’s no man’s friend
For he was a fool to think he had plenty
and now she’s gone
*I created a video for this story. It can be accessed here: The Bench
As she stood in the entryway
staring at the black mass in the fiery sky
what good did technology do for them
now on the brink of extinction?
Gusts of heated air whipped around her body
as the only thoughts of comfort
were of all the written journals
she’d buried in the deep caverns nearby
in the hope that those pieces of her would survive
while the rest be reduced to nothing
but hot ashes
A young woman who lost her parents, one to infidelity and the other to a war in some foreign land, must choose between a childhood dream and her familial responsibility…real life sucks.
Whimsical images flash through my mind as I wait for sleep to overtake me only to be interrupted by the deafening crunches of the bones in my mouth.
The cross on a grave site signaled peace at long last for one man; but, for the woman it meant that her nightmare has just begun.
No matter how many mountains I’ve crossed, and towns passed through, the storms of past sins always catch me.
Two girls running through the dark woods not as friends but as a predator chasing her prey.