The meetings The idealists Oh how annoying Hands waving Pick me, me , me Machine gun firing ideas Who is gonna get down and carry out the plan And who will pick up the pieces scattered around the finish line
At least I have control over poetry I started one and I definately finish it Even sometimes it reads rubbish I may not get recognised for brilliance I certainly get a medal for persistence I ranted like bursting a pimple What a relief
Cars crawling on the highway again signifying the returnimg of the normal life. But it isn’t normal that life is filled with rushing, crowding and fighting for space again. We learned the lesson from calamities. But we ditch them like disposal plastics and let them drown in the open oceans with indigestion.
Charity ball is a perfect sale network opportunity especially for semi drunken business representatives All deals achieved spring from seemingly innocent chitchatting in the high spirit of supporting those in need
“Welcome to GirlieOnTheEdge and Sunday’s prompt word reveal for Six Sentence Stories!
What if we had a clock where, instead of the ordinals representing hours, they represented months? At the end of the 12th month, it would roll over to the next year and a number would flash in the center of the clock. The optional feature (of course) is what the year represents. Option 1: your age. Option 2: the current year. Regardless of the numerics, at the conclusion of 12 months, the clock would begin flashing, there, in the center either the YEAR or your AGE…
Hey, let’s give it up for Cassa Bassa! She took me up on last Sunday’s post invitation to provide this week’s prompt word. You go girl! Have a fantastic week everyone. Challenge yourself. Do something different.
Rules of the hop: Write 6 Sentences. No more. No less. Use the current week’s prompt word. Return here, link your post Wednesday night through Saturday late… Spread the word and put in a good one to your fellow writers 😀
PROMPT WORD: MARVEL
“Words are the most subtle symbols which we possess, and our human fabric depends on them.” – Iris Murdoch”
I have never seen such sallow vacant eyes. They are the aftermath of a night’s terror in a haunted house with rotting beams full of bats. Even the early Summer sun and warm breeze does not bring hope. A lone scruffy man sits on a weathered park bench. Crows are roaming around him unearthing grubs. I wonder if those park crows ever consider pecking him like they do with carrion.
This is a collaboration piece with Spirited Soul based on a Poetic Duets Prompt – “Pick any of the 5 senses. Now, imagine your life without it, and describe it poetically.” This prompt came from Instagram @PoeticDuets
Beautiful green and orange chunks weaved through the spongy dough. Aromatic toasted nuts gave that firm structure like the solid brick work in an architecture piece. When the baking oven timer went off like a diner bell, my nose was overwhelmed by the healthy wholesomeness. My mouth salivated in great anticipation.
As I slide the fork from in between my lustrous lips, I feel the thick, coarse lump in my mouth. Swirling around like dry sand when I chew. Feeling like a handful of moving bugs as I try to swallow. The kind that land inside your mouth after an enjoyable motorbike ride.