This poem is dedicated to someone I used to consider a friend but who nuked that from orbit and demanded an apology from me for their hurt feelings over something I did not do.
A strange and powerful lethargy
Astonishing in it’s motionless
My hand stills ascribing without glee
My pen not racing to express
Ideas of showing how I see
Deep into your soul (what a mess)
I am fitting to your reality
Mind steeped in syrup thickness
You exposed yourself to me
Thank you for at last being honest.
Poised on a sharpened blade he balanced
Burning at each end, the wax became flame or smoke
Throwing light onto the faces of us who watched
Smoke stains on the ceiling, wax splashing to the floor
Recasting (looking back and working things out)
Always alone, my emotions dismissed, dissed, disinterest, fitted
Into a shape that was defined for me without my inclusion.
Body and mind moved by the ebbs of her mood
That pushed and pulled and missed me; but it never really mattered, did it?
Defiance was written when I started responding to bullies and gaslighters and I fought the narrative defined for me to follow
Instructions carved in rocks, I hold them against me.
The rules we brought down from the hill, burning and shouting.
Someone there said they were right, and when they were gone from sight
We knew we held a treasure; our future assured.
With each new meeting, a piece more of me is revealed
And removed to be recast. They say it’s important .
As it’s borne away I watch it leave, I grieve, silent; I wait.
It’s worked, formed, set aside to prove and conform.
The existence of the crowd around me as I resist the loudness and sound. My endocrine
glands leak panic, my face glitters and is frantic, and my flesh displays outward pleasure, manic
“Pleased to see you, it’s been too long!” – I air-kiss and grasp arms and wish myself away
as I stay, and my talk is small and empty and so is theirs, my feet hurt and my drink is empty
What i like about literature (and poetry) is that a good piece uses words to describe a scene without unnecessary adverbs or adjectives. Once you start shoving them in, it’s probably indicative of either lazy writing or having to plug the story with words to get up the word count- and I’m going to get annoyed at the book pretty fast.
I’m not saying descriptions or world building are not required, but they need to be well written, and not just sticking an adjective or two before a noun.
Take these examples:
The email contained proof that her husband was cheating. She felt sick to her stomach. Continue reading “Proof -a short story in less than 100 words”
“You just need to have faith,” my parents told me. I shrugged. Whatever. Continue reading “You just need to have faith – a short story in less than 100 words”
I have periodically dabbled in illustrations of stories, combining art-me and writing-me. I have thought I wanted to be an illustrator but I know now I don’t. Continue reading “Colin’s Party – Illustrated short story, versions, 1 and 2”
Moylen Green - writings 