Living Poetry July Picture Prompt
Onlookers and passerby gave them the cheers
Some even said congratulations
Little did they know
there goes his vitality into the thin air
Her belly is still flat
and her womb is still empty
Tag: picture prompt writing
Doll
Living Poetry May visual prompt
She is that girl
confined in the mold
they carved out for her
Every bit of her is labelled
categorised and put aside
for the common view of this world
All is in order
But all is out of place
in the creator’s eye
She can’t survive
She can’t shine
She is miserable in nature’s sight
Over the Hedge
The Living Poetry picture prompt
There is a food shortage
in our town
except the gated community
I've found a way
to climb over the hedge
to help myself
with some leftover party food
and pack some for later
On my way back down
I come face to face
with a squirrel
nibbling on a pine cone
It looks at me
I look at it
Suddenly I feel really sad
because God looks after a squirrel
better than me
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
Flicker of Thoughts 