This is written in response to Denise’s Six Sentence Story word prompt – Mess.

That was probably the hardest video call he had to make, the ambience filled with a sense of dread.

“I decided to take the teaching job offer and stay in Berlin”, he launched straight into it without delaying the blade.

Silence, absolutely silence, then her eyes welled up, then the screen went blank, clearly, she hanged up.

Then the text came, “Obviously, you have made up you mind. I have nothing to say and no strength to fight for us anymore. I wish you all the best and I still love us, but that’s the past .”

After sending the text, she let her tears roll down like a waterfall sitting in the waiting area of the abortion clinic; what was a decision to be made, now is a conclusion.

From the soundbar, Ami Winehouse is singing, “…love is a losing game, one I wished I never played, oh what a mess we made…”


Living Poetry prompt – River

I wanted to be a lake
But you made me a river
Passion gushed from my sanctuary
Earnestly flowed toward you

You were an island
But I wanted you to be a raft
I was so far gone with my mind
incapable of being tied down

My tears broke the flood gate
Forever gone with the stream

Soldier on

Living Poetry prompt writing – Waste Land

The city is stirred to uncertainty
among concrete slabs
and slate stones

Gray is the mood
mixing with false Hope
of a human Messiah
clothed in eloquent speech
and charisma

Change births no life
autumn leaves bring on doom
Yet, we are still hopeful
knowing the joy of spring

The vision of new life
and growth
gives us the strength
to plough through the wasteland

Pumpkin Field

Remember that pumpkin field
under the harvest moon
where we lay in the coolness of the night?

A beatle crawled around my ankle
while your fingers gliding between my longing
landed in a fire
ignited by our stardust kisses.

The shallow field matched our breaths.
The rough skin of the pumpkin fruits
reminded me of your raw passion
overcame the smoothness of my skin.

You Are Dead to Me

A six sentence story based on Denise’s prompt – Guard

The Queen has an oinker son who is deserved of being barbecued, for he is a pedophile.

He was born with a silver spoon and has been milking it ever since.

When the shit hit the fan, he hurried to cling to his mother’s skirts.

‘My Queen, I have been naughty; in your Holy book, I am forgiven, it’s my right to be forgiven by you, Mother.’

The Queen swallowed her tears and called out ‘ Guards’.

‘Oh no Mother…oh no…how about my teddies?’ while he was dragged out of the palace.

Taking Chances

Written based on Living Poetry prompt – Restaurant

She goes to her local restaurant
with no bookings
all days of the week
Most days she is accommodated
Busy days, she refuses to leave
she keeps waiting
hoping someone, some group
takes pitty on her
and willing to share a table
She will repay such kindness
by taking care of the bills
big or small
She doesn’t care
The money is so insignificant
comparing to the company she gets
The only company she gets


Living Poetry word prompt – Abandon

She thinks black and white
She knows right or wrong
She is refreshing
when she speaks her mind
She is energising
when she speaks your mind
She is beautiful
when she dances with total abandon
She is light
when she faces the sun
singing to the birds

Table for Two

Six Sentence Story prompt word – Space

The sun prints on the floor to give a hint of time.
I have been sitting in the chill for longer than I realise.
The coffee has gone cold, and the froth has gone undone.
People perhaps grow tired of me watching them, they call the bill swiftly.
This table is meant to be bridging our hands together.
But with your absence, the space between us grows apart further and deeper.


This is written based on Living Poetry word prompt – Race, machine, epigraph

The human race are not machines.
Grease and grime don’t feed us.
Electricity or coal don’t power us.
Carriage or container don’t move us.
We are flesh and blood bear sins.
There was epigraph written long before our birth.
We are of love, power and sound minds.

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