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Celebrate Poem In Your Pocket Day

Fire and Ice

Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I’ve tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice.

Robert Frost

When the Mirror Breaks

I always enjoy opening up my mail box and seeing something new. This comes to us from, well she didn’t really say. I’ll just assume it’s some place much warmer than Slush-ville. I just want to add here as a side note, that the email for toolbox isn’t just for submissions. You’re always welcome to say hello.

To the main event! Enjoy her piece of poetry!

 

Reflection
by S.

Stripped down
Nothing separates me
From myself
Seen as I truly am
Not want to be
Or how others see me
But exactly what I am
Blessing and curse
I am wretchedly beautiful
Tragically elated
The veil torn away
Lifted from my eyes
Beautiful horror
My saving grace
To see and be seen
Most fully
And find absolution
Undeserved,  freely given

 

 


Wash Away

From The Ymp, who has perpetually made me smile with his grim renditions of prompts from Inspiration Friday.

The Deepest Cut

He was never happy with her, but then she’d never meant to let him in at all in the first place. Then, seemingly against her will, he’d gone and taken over her entire life; filling every nook of her mind with his temper and every cranny of her house with his crap.

She hadn’t managed to tidy and he’d been displeased. When consciousness returned it was to blurry vision and ears that buzzed alarmingly.

He was in the bath; he liked being clean. The first incision was small and that’s when she knew everything would be alright. It’ll wash away.

Oranges and….?

A poem was sent in today, sans any additional commentary.  Enjoy!

OrphanedOrange,

By Yvette Naomi and Mitch

Nothing rhymes with orange
So we ought make up a word
Like glorange or forange or sulonge
E’en though they sound quite absurd.

To make up a meaning defining each word,
I suggest golrange should be a cowherd.
Forange could be what we do at night
When we screw up our eyes to block out the light.

And solange could be the colour of puke
When mixed with bits of orange and pewt.
I only suggest these, but it’s up to you
To find some meaning for words that are new.

We could spread this news
And await the reviews.
But it’s about time
That orange should rhyme.

White Dress

From The Ymp, a drabble based upon a prompt from Inspiration Friday.  He told me that this story was inspired by Dr. Who.

The Nemesis

There were many things in her life that Amy had stood up to, she was no shrinking violet. The color would have clashed with her hair.

She always attacked things head-on – it was both her greatest strength and most devastating weakness.

No, she wasn’t one for the bended knee. Oh God! I feel sick!

She wondered what Rory was doing. Bet he’s not even noticed I’ve gone, she thought.

But she was back; she had to face her fear.

“Deep breaths, old girl,” she imagined her friend would say, as she stared at her great nemesis…

The white dress.

Narrating

This was written by me for Madison Wood’s Flash Fiction weekly inspiration. Prompt:

 

Narrating by Elise

The alpaca stood in the snowy path; silent, patient–

“Goddamnit, Terrance. Again?”

The alpaca did not like to complain when a certain someone came home and was to tired from work to clean. Because the alpaca knew that–

“I can hear you narrating in the other room.”

The alpaca was not an intelligent creature. It liked to sit on its ass all day long. It preferred attention like —

“My mother was right, Terrance. You never listen. Always narrating. You’re a janitor for christsakes!”

At the end of the day the Alpaca continued to wait in the cold, knowing that without any imagination it would never accomplish anything. The narrator could not control every fucking detail.

The end, he whispered to the alpaca.

The end indeed.

And with a snap, the watch was shut

This story was inspired by the ‘Fantastical Friday’ Prompts posted at the end of last year/last week. The Ymp can be found on twitter, @theymp.

He wanted to add:

Not quite ready to relinquish Christmas. 100-word drabble inspired by “Star of Wonder” by Tori Amos. “Some things happen in their own time…”

Prompt: She opened her watch again, scowled and snapped it shut. She looked back up at the stars, waiting for them to align.

————-Star of Wonder by The Ymp——————–

Fire from distant, alien suns blazed through the dark, empty vacuum of space, taking countless light-years to reach her eyes.

All of creation was balanced for this one perfect, clockwork moment as the future of the cosmos teetered on the brink of salvation.

A new star of wonder burst into life to lead them onward.

The stubborn donkey brayed in irritation, balking at its owner’s instructions, unhappy to be out in the chill desert night.

Fate tapped her foot in disbelief as the pre-ordained moment passed unmarked.

The paperwork alone would take millennia; celestial objects were so much more straightforward…

end

Happy writing, everyone. Don’t forget there’s a contest going on!