A Dodoitsu written for this challenge – Thanks Peter
Midas was a lesser god
who kept a palace full of
golden wives, and concubines,
whom he never knew
Tag: peterwynmosey
Monoku or American Sentence
A short piece written for this challenge – Thank you Peter
Ilse stepped aboard at Angels Corner the bus was filled with desire
Chaotic Motion
A short piece written for this challenge – Thank you Peter
The shooter aimed his weapon from a thousand yards away.
At the bottom of his exhale he pulled the trigger back and held it, waiting to see the impact through the scope.
It was a shot he had made a thousand times before. He’d never missed until today.
Three weeks earlier and half the world away, a butterfly flapped her wings
The Future of Mass Transit in Llanelli and Abroad
Micro-poetry written for this challenge – Thank you Peter
I catch a passing comet, dusting my beard with sequins and stardust.
Time for a Change
Written for this challenge – Thank you Peter
Connie looked over her shoulder as Rick eased in through the front door. If looks could kill, he’d be dead now and he knew it, but he still had to try.
She growled at him, “You got a lotta damn gall, showing up here, showing up now.”
“Yeah, I’m really sorry, Connie…” Rick kinda let his apology run out of steam. He stuffed his hands into his trouser pockets and shrugged his shoulders. Tried to look pathetic. Tried a sheepish grin.
On her part, Connie started flinging everything she could lay her hands on at him. “Are you trying to piss me off?” she screamed, “Is that what you want? Just get out. Get the fuck out.”
Rick took a step forward.
She threw a big book. It mighta been a cooking book, or it mighta been Tolstoy; she didn’t bother to check which. It did the trick though.
Rick retreated back the way he had come. He went out the front door.
Connie leaned back. She needed to get the locks changed, and as long as she was changing things, maybe she’d she should go downtown tomorrow. Change her hair.
A Young Girl’s Radiant Hair
Written for this challenge – Thank you Peter
pineapple, slickers, lemon cakes and, autumn leaves
Texas flowers; Sulphur; and a long brick road
butter, canaries, scrambled eggs too
don’t forget dump trucks or cheese, chicks and daffodils cannot be forgot
there’s also a certain old dog who deserves to be here
turmeric sprinkled on a bowl of mac and cheese
a moon, a lion, a taxi, rubber ducks
banana popsicles, sunsets, and sunshine (in general)
pages, apricots, squash, or mustard
a young girl’s radiant hair
a river in China, Pikachu too
Van Gogh, his sunflowers, and the bee he never drew
the humble school bus
The prompt that I chose was:
Yellow
The Lonely and Bitter Man
Written for this challenge – Thank you Peter
You think me beneath you, I’m one you despise
You spurn my advances, damn your eyes.
I bared myself seeking acceptance from you,
But scoff and sneer is all you do, damn your eyes.
You are the treasure I’ve longed to find
You remain aloof, you remain unkind, damn your eyes.
I’ve made you immortal with my verse
I’m met with contempt -my name you curse, damn your eyes.
I spent my bitter life without you, alone
Now I laugh as I dance, round your headstone, damn your eyes.
The prompts were:
- This was literally the worst thing that ever happened to me…
- Your eyes.
Neither Snow Nor Rain Nor Heat Nor Gloom Of Night
Written for this challenge – Gracias Sr. Mosey
It was midafternoon on a hot day in July. Cooper and Max were hanging out together, waiting for the Postman and wishing they had something cool to drink.
Max scratched the hair on his chin and then turned his attention on Cooper, “So, whatcha think, Coop? You in?”
“I dunno, Max; it kinda goes against everything I was raised to believe. I’m just not sure I can do it.”
“Jeeze, Cooper.” Max snarled, “He’s a Postman. He expects this stuff. This is the kind of shit we were born for. If you don’t do this, I will. Look here he comes now,” the postman rounded the corner a couple of doors down, “and he’s walking. Perfect.”
“Max, you might be bred for this…”
“What’re you saying, Coop? You better consider the consequences if you’re gonna trash talk me.”
No, Max. I don’t mean any disrespect, but man – let’s face it. You’re half Doberman and half Pit Bull. Me? I’m a Sheep Dog.”
“I’m ¾ Pit Bull, and let’s face it. That’s the beauty of this plan. He’s not expecting you to bite him. He’s expecting me to do that. Put your game face on. Growl, bark, and charge him. When you get there take a big chunk outa his leg. You can do this.”
Cooper nodded his head and raised the hackles on his back. The growl started deep in his belly and he began moving toward the hapless Mailman. He picked up speed as he moved forward. He barked. He barked again. When he was close enough, Cooper leapt and hit; knocking his target to the ground. The mailman was now on his butt, scooting backwards and away from his attacker as quickly as he could. When he fell further and was flat on his back Cooper stood on his chest. The letter carrier closed his eyes, waiting for the inevitable. Cooper wagged his tail.
“Hi,” he said, “I’m Cooper, I’m a dog. Do you have any dog treats in that big bag?”
“Damn it, Cooper,” shouted Max from the driveway. “That was disgusting. You make me ashamed to be a dog.” He turned and hightailed it away from the scene of the crime.”
- Did David definitely dance down Devon, dear?
- If you don’t do this, I will…
The Puppet-Master
An American Sentence
You don’t fool me, ‘Nocchio,” Gepetto said, snipping strings, “I made you.”
