Flash Fiction “Daddy, I’ve outgrown my dolls house. I need a bigger one.” Cecelia Beatrix Parker-Bardot, sat up tall in her chair, with eyes which tethered to her fathers affections. The maid moved on kitten heels, as she served supper, momentarily cutting off Cecelia’s line of sight to her father, and with it, her powers.Continue reading “Cecelia Seizes the Seas”
Tag Archives: prose
Theatrics
A poem in free verse A week flies by,Few words falling from fingers,Instead, They dance in the brain,Pirouette and sustain,Position,On the tips of their toes,They strike a pose,Preforming for a crowd of one,In a dusty theatre,That sees no sun,But, bright and living,Feeling,Giving,Whether booked in a playhouse,Of purposeful prose,Or, aimless artistry,Just creating,To create,We create, Because weContinue reading “Theatrics”
Smiling
A narrative poem in free verse Smiling through gritted teeth,he nodded,before his boss,who plodded,on his fat little hooves,to his swizzle chair,“swizzle on this”thought Chris,who held out an imaginary middle finger,Only barely dared even in his mind,Herman Parker General manger,on the door, cut in lettering,that chained him,fettering,beneath,no matter his belief,of worth,warranted,that his mother spent years toContinue reading “Smiling”
Minimal Effort, Minimal Results
Poem to minimalist photography Another shoddy report card,Dragging heavily in his top pocket,His shoes were shinier,Than his future,His excuses were brittle,Muddled alone in the browning leaves,With barely a hint of verdant,They had expired,Mother was going to flip out,Verbal acrobatics across the kitchen,No rolling out of this one,His knees knocked,One foot in front of the next,SheenContinue reading “Minimal Effort, Minimal Results”
United Thinking
Flash Fiction She lay awake. Flickers of bright ideas in the dark hours; hot enough to melt the rest of her thoughts, as candle wax, out the ears. She was restlessly focused – vocally restless, she sat bolt upright with an uninvited gasp. “Crucial to finding the way is this – there is no beginningContinue reading “United Thinking”
Out for Blood
Haibun; prose and haiku I sit, my women by my side, with legs dangling – as the moon in the sky – out the back doors of the van, facing out across the Bass Strait, to the mainland of Australia, from my coastal cradle in Tasmania, rocked by a chilling wind which tightens the air.Continue reading “Out for Blood”
Rebellious Annie
Flash Fiction Ten toes twitching with taut tremors like feeling tentacles. This is not poetry; this is hell. He collapsed backward, a laboured wilting of limbs and lifeforce, drew him to the earth. My eyes lined up with the soles of his feet, where his muscles spasmed with a last display of virility. “Coba lariContinue reading “Rebellious Annie”
The Hangman and the Heart
Flash Fiction I jostled for a pocket of airspace to observe – pried between shoulders of my ignoble peers, on tips of toes, peaking past plebeians. On tongues, the congested cobble stones roared with a frenzy at the culmination of the longest trial in the Shires history. The gallows stood stoically, silent, raised above theContinue reading “The Hangman and the Heart”
An Ugly Son #2
Short prose Find part 1 here Part 2 I thought he hated me because I was different, because the weeping, the laughter, the silence, of my three wretched faces, frightened him – appalled him – I was wrong. It was not that, it was how I so perfectly mirrored my mothers face, shifting, metamorphosing itselfContinue reading “An Ugly Son #2”
An Ugly Son
Short prose Part 1 The words of my father whispered on the wind. An ugly son. Am I such a devil? Cold, stark pit of the night overtook the rattling tin of uninvited thoughts. I fell into slumber despite the thin layer of naked grasses piercing my back as rusted nails. The wind broke fromContinue reading “An Ugly Son”
Gumtrees
Haibun Van rolling to a gentle stop, not in a hurry, handbrake on, door opens – met by zesty breeze. A new place – small town Tasmania – refreshing. Quaint – with its colonial architecture, painted and preserved with double edged pride – it could be rural England, except, we don’t have mountains like these,Continue reading “Gumtrees”
Sung from the page
Legs crossed in a figure 4, American style, to assert my dominance unconsciously – unnecessarily. Short clatter of glass and porcelain on the wooden table – a coffee – “Thank you” – dimples cove in cheeks – sugary smile returned. A library with a cafe… a winning combination. Balancing leg slides down over the topContinue reading “Sung from the page”
Harvest Season
A dry, savoury Southern Hemisphere sun, places an empyrean hand on my exposed cheek, almost hot to the point of discomfort, focused on one side, but with demure kisses of crisp autumnal wind tendering dotingly, it’s pleasantly tranquil – today promises to be clement and peaceable. Touches and kisses – A welcomed simplicity,Harvesting breaths, deep.Continue reading “Harvest Season”
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