The sun had taken flight with midnight near The killer stops uncertainly, afraid, Behind a sound he hears, sinister, clear, A hollow breathing, ice-cold hand now laid Upon his shoulder, grips; he springs away, As if the fiends of hell were at his heels, But still pursued, his face with terror, gray. At last he turns, with courage bold, then squeals As dead Lucille peals, “Now see how it feels!”
Well, Halloween’s just around the corner isn’t it? 🎃👻 Update: And right on cue, I’m number 13 on Mr. Linky! Haha.
Laura at dVerse's MTB: "Since today is the 9th of the 9th month it is fitting for that numeral to inform today’s poetry form – so let’s meet The Novelinee!. . . Yes, it’s a nine line stanza poem overlaid with this rhyme sequence:
a,b,a,b,c,d,c,d,d" also written in iambic pentameter.
the teapot boiled the cat began to whistle the man bolted out the world began to tremble
the cat began to whistle the pot was just a thought it was never really there
the man bolted out he was missing his body he left his coat and hat
the world began to tremble we turned the music up nothing was hard to hear
I thought I’d try my hand at some absurdist poetry of the type popularized in the middle of the twentieth century as Grace at dVerse challenges us with a new poetry form: “Today’s poetry form is Trimeric (Trimeric \tri-(meh)-rik), which was invented by Charles A. Stone.
1. Trimeric has 4 stanzas 2. The first stanza has 4 lines 3. The other three stanzas have 3 lines each 4. The first line of each stanza is a refrain of the corresponding line in the first stanza (so 2nd stanza starts with the second line, third stanza starts with the third line, etc.). 5. The sequence of lines, then, is abcd, b – -, c – -, d – -. Note: No other rules on line length, meter, or rhyme. Click on Mr. Linky & join in!
Nothing in you, nothing in me, Nothing as far as eye can see Nothing to say who made me, Nothing makes itself plain to me Nothing will be my guide and creed No absolutes but what my thoughts decree Ruler of my own destiny Master of sky, land and sea No limit to whatever desires mingle, set free It’s all about me, from A to Z I’m free to decide what’s best for me What’s wrong for you may be right for me Ask Mother Nature, what’s cruelty? Evolution’s progress, look at me! [SPLAT!] – Last sounds of Nobigbug Butméé
Genre: Poetry Word Count: 100
I’ve been rather under the weather lately but roused myself to participate in Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers and Eugi’s Weekly Prompt. I’ve read many of the entries already and am inspired. Eugi asks us to use any variation on the top photo or the word prompt (“mingle”). Rochelle asks that we use the photo prompt (above) and limit our words to 100 or less. Check them out!
A word prompt to get your creativity flowing this weekend. How you use the prompt is up to you. Write a piece of flash fiction, a poem, a chapter for your novel…anything you like. Or take the challenge below – there are no prizes – it’s not a competition but rather a fun writing exercise. If you want to share what you come up with, please leave a link to it in the comments at Sammi’s #WWP.
He had his kitsch. She had her kitsch. Never the twain could meet. His lawn sported a Greek pavilion around which sprawled a miniature golf course. Her lawn spawned stone excrescences of fauns, fairies, and a Michelangelo’s David. One day, his golf ball took out David’s right . . . ear. He trotted over holding a bottle of Bordeaux and apologized. Together they looked at each other’s kitsch admiringly.