Tom

My take on The Living Poetry word prompt – Neighbor with a short story

It’s the neighbourhood gardening day.

Tom blushed when she handed him pine straws to put on the top soil of the roses. Electricity passed through from her pale fingers to his knuckle. No one noticed any strangeness of his raw red face because they thought he was just bothered by the heat. She offered him a cold drink, home made lemonade. He gladly accepted it for another chance to be electrocuted by her womanly touch. He swallowed the water hard feeling the movement of his own throat. Thank God for the cold lemonade to put out some fire.

She rested one leg up on a garden chair dusting some dirt off her shoe. She looked up and smiled at him while changing to the other leg. Tom was instantly overcome by a warm gush in his crotch. He ran straight back towards his house, almost knocked down his mother.

He locked his bedroom door, pulled the curtain shut and dropped his pants. He masturbated almost violently with the flashing images of her angling her leg in front of her bathroom mirror and shaving delicately between her thighs. The second waves hit him soon after. He was swept away by the combination of heat exhaustion and orgasmic pleasure. Then came the shame of being a teenage boy peeping on his neighbour who is his mother’s age.

The Death of A Poet

you were
the assassin of my poetic being
you attacked by slicing a sharp tongue
down the core of my creativity
whatever I inked
post mortem
dripped wasteful words
irretrievable

I Am One of Us

The Living Poetry May visual prompt

They are puzzled about me

An eccentric nerd
buries herself in books
walks in summer storm
stares at the sky for hours

A sore thumb
stands out in small talks
unable to pick up social cues
receives no offense of sarcasm

I am told that
I am the eighth colour
of the rainbow
I am just as beautiful
as all the other flowers
in the field

Candy Fantasy

The Living Poetry February visual prompt

I wish I could catch the sweet zest
from their first release
to the lasting after effect
But
with mouthfuls of lustful swallow
they have been and gone too quickly
Is there any pharmaceutical giant
with a vision to invent a Viagra
for my taste buds

A Princess’s Delusion

We only see her wiry hair
unknot, unkempt, undernourished
Her sallow face blends in
with the mould dampen walls
We know her dream of a prince rescue
in that desolate tower no more
If hope is what gives her light
the tunnel of time in her mind
is merely a paper clock illusion
embellished with sour milk memories