|For the rare times when I write.|
|Standing quietly in the rain,
Leaning against the railing,
My life flashes before me,
Not a single good memory.
Feeling heavier, I take another swig,
But my bottle is empty
And my cigarette is unlit.
While I'm sure I have nothing to live for
I can't push myself beyond this.
I want to be seen, I want to be saved
And if you save my life,
I'll be the one who drives you home tonight.
Written for ""Like a Song" Poetry Contest"
November 2020 round
|(the turkey's dialogues are written in attempted south american accent so please consider enunciating to understand it's dialogues)
"Well, so all I need to do now is cook this turkey."
"Thas mean. How'd ya feyal if aah said the same 'bout ya? 'Weyal, it's time ta cook Chef Mo'gan!'"
"Sorry, buddy. What can I do? Cooking you helps me earn bread for my family."
"Wahh dun't ya cook breead? It ain't gon a feel a thin'! Me, though, it hurts!"
"You see, dear turkey, you're so much more valuable than that lame old bread. No one pays as much for bread as they do for you! Especially during this time of the year! You're far more superior."
"Don't mean it ain't gon hurt me."
"But you need to stop being selfish and think about the greater good you're doing. Everyone loves your kind. You make Thanksgiving complete. Gratitude wouldn't exist in this world had it not been for your generous sacrifice. People would never say thank you."
"Thas a sacrifaas we ain't asking to make. Buh when ya puh ith like the'yat..."
"Besides, what better do you have to do with your life anyway?"
"Aye, how dare ya! We couh ru'yal the world if we wanted to."
"Really? Why haven't you done it then? We won't stop you."
"Hmmm, 'cause we cayant. All I know is I'd destroy tha Trump boy."
"Promise to make ith quick and payainless?"
"Chop away, mah man! For thah greatha go- aaahhhhhhh!"
"You sure were a chatty one."
Written for "The Dialogue 500" , November 2020
Prompt: Talking turkey
Whenever I'm feeling insecure and unsteady
I can feel a strong pair of hands holding on to me.
With slight wink and a lame joke,
And a piece of advice that gives me hope.
His careless smile and bright eyes say,
"Don't you worry, it'll be okay."
Sometimes my parents come and visit me.
They're always aware when I'm feeling uncertainty.
They don't really ask for they know I won't tell
But they always know on what I should rather dwell.
With their casual talk and a hint they say,
"Don't you worry, it'll be okay."
When I need to drop my walls,
Be vulnerable, need a shoulder to cry on,
When I need simply a non judgemental ear,
A reliable friend makes my fears disappear.
With a warm and cosy hug she says,
"Don't you worry, it'll be okay."
The big geatures were never truly impacted,
It's the little things that really counted.
Always made me feel like I belong,
The light of my loved ones was all I needed to get by.
If I'm ever stuck, I know it'll show me the way,
"Don't you worry, it'll be okay."
Written for the "The Taboo Words Contest"
Prompt: don't use the words:
or any derivatives of these words
Rhyme scheme maintained for "Poetic Traditions Poetry Contest"
Beauty is priceless
Beauty is the key
To get your way through this world
Full of lustful sneers.
An ounce of make up
And a skirt too short
Is the only way a woman can
Be taken seriously.
Woman must look pretty
To help with patriarchy
To boost the male ego
When they see you naked.
Beauty isn't an option
But rather a compulsion.
Size zero waist, perfect hair,
A made-up face and some slutty clothes
Is the most crucial investment
For every woman today.
You must be fair, not colored, not black.
You must be skinny with hips and tits fat.
Your hair should be soft and perfectly worn.
And you must always smile,
For you look ugly when you cry,
Or when you scream, or when you fight
For what you think is right.
You're a part of a judgemental world
Where your demands won't be heard
Until you concur.
The only thing you must strive to be
Is the epitome of female beauty.
And if you're not up to the task yet,
You seven-year-old child,
You're unnecessary and insignificant.
You should take a knife and kill yourself.
Form: free verse
|Stop for a second,
drop everything you're doing,
look all around yourself,
and let lose in the moment.
the big and the small.
In the blink of an eye you might lose the chance,
to show them your gratitude.
Life may seem long,
but it's shorter than you think.
So don't look for excuses,
to be thankful, kind and loving.
Form: free verse poem
|Prompt: use all the following words in a poem or a prose:
buoy tears waves adrift lighthouse sirens port lost
When I woke up, I was sitting on top of my favourite rubber duckling, Diggy. Diggy was huge, easily the size of a cruise ship. I didn't understand why. Diggy had always been an average sized rubber duckling. Small and usually fit in the palm of of my hand. But somehow it was very sensible that she was so big. Very logical. Just like the rest of our situation.
We were adrift in the middle of a vast ocean. Huge waves crashing against poor Diggy as she tried to protect me. She put a protective wing to shield me from all the water and tried her best to follow the directions of the lighthouse and the wailing sirens. Wait a minute... Diggy was alive? And with a conciousness? Who knew my rubber duck had super powers like Antman, could grow in size and was actually really smart? Like, she wasn't an inanimate object! She was like a ninja! That was so cool!
Maybe she was a secret agent of sorts. Her mission was to protect me from some really powerful villain who needed me to take over the world. Maybe I was, like, really special! And that why all this protection for me. Maybe I was a lost Princess and had to be kept safe and secure from all evil. Hmmm, this was the most logical explanation for my very reasonable situation.
Suddenly Diggy asked me,"Can you see the buoy, Zia? There should be a port near it. I can't see very, so you'll have to steer me." Suddenly, from the back of Diggy's huge neck, a steering wheel appeared. Awesome!
"Sure Diggy! I'll steer us to safety!" I took the wheel and began to steer, but suddenly, out of nowhere, a giant Pikachu came from the sky, landed on Diggy and zapped her.
"NOOOOOOOOOO!!! Diggy, you can't leave me!" I cried, tears flooding my vision as poor Diggy deflated rapidly.
"Protect...yourself...", She muttered her final words as she frowned into the sea.
Next thing I knew, I was on concrete grind and was facing Ash and his favourite Pokémon, Pikachu. Of course he was the one who wanted to hunt me down. I never liked Pokémon and especially hated his character in the series. Of course he hates me! Before I could explain myself to him, his stupid Pikachu zapped me and I fainted.
The next time I woke up, I was in my bed with my friend Zack at my side.
I sat up groggily, wondering why I had last night's clothes on.
Zack grinned widely at me. "You were hilarious last night! You got so drunk you went and sat in Josh yellow Ferrari and started calling it Diggy. Then when we got you off the roof of the car, you started crushing so hard and yelling at Mindy's Golden Retriever, calling the dog Pikachu and calling Mindy Ash. I've never liked you more!" He grinned hysterically and proceeded to show me a video of my adventures.
Now that made sense.
|As Ally got ready to finally sleep, she heard a sharp tap on the window at her bedside. Startled yet focused, she carefully lifted the edge of the curtain. Much to her surprise, she saw a huge black eyeball, certainly not human, staring back at her. Mortified, she stumbled backwards.
Was the prophecy true? The Koryole apocolyse was really going to happen? And if yes, then that meant...
The window opened slightly and a raspy but sharp voice came through it. "Ms. Ally, may I come in?"
A disgusting, humanoid creature looked at her from outside the window. A Gorgoyle.
"Come in.", Said Ally, more composed now. Although Ally never really wanted to believe her Grandma, an ancient oracle's words, she knew that somewhere deep down that it was all real. Oracles couldn't lie.
"You must be Kyle, 'the brave black monster who'll escort the disbeliever', as the prophecy said." Ally glared at him as he entered.
"That's right. Are you still a disbeliever? You're grandmother says you were always in denial of the devine."
"Can you blame me? I had no proof! Sure, the books I read and my faith in Grandma had me more ready than I expected to be, but knowing how dangerous the devine is, I desperately hoped she was crazy."
"I agree with that semtiment. Sounds like deep down you were always were a believer. That's why you immediately knew who I was. You weren't even afraid of me. Merely startled." Kyle winked.
"Anyways, the devine attacks have begun, just as suspected. The Evil Gods despise Gorgoyles and the fragile mankind. We may stand a chance in protecting Earth and preventing the Koryole apocolyse from happening, but only if we have your all powerful devine blood, Ms.Ally. You're the daughter of Goddess Gaia, Mother of Creation and Gorgod Andrex, the Father of all Gorgoyles. They are both the most powerful beings in the Universe and even a fraction of their combined power at it's full potential would be enough to prevent this. Will you help us, Ms.Ally?", He asked, gazing into her eyes.
"Quit calling me Ms.Ally. I'll help, but I'm terrified of losing everything and everyone I have with me."
"You'll lose them even if you refuse to help us. We don't stand a chance without you, Ms.All-, uh, I mean Ally."
"Well, at least I'll die with my family. Kyle, I'm aware of the risks involved and I'm terrified that I'll die alone, Kyle."
Somehow she let her walls down around this "monster". He gazed at her wordlessly for as she spoke and Ally felt like he had a key to her soul.
He smiled in a way that cracked her heart. He was hideous but somehow beautiful. He said quietly, "Ally, I can promise you that you'll never be alone."
|The letter of Jo's mother's passing reached her on a Wednesday. It wasn't much of a shock, really. Jo's father had passed a few months back and her mother hadnt been doing well ever since. Also, she as lived 88 beautiful years. So while Jo was certainly sad, she was also ready for this. She seemed to have grieved both her parents when her father's death began to heavily deteriorate her mother's health. Being the only member of the Wilson's family alive, she realised she would be getting the family house.
It had been years since Jo had seen the entire house again. Since she had moved out, she only came to visit and during those she only entered 3 rooms: living area and her room. As a child, she had apparently been diagnosed with a rare form of amnesia due to which she had no memories of the first six years of her life. When she was six, the doctors were able to find a cure to the disease and her brain began to store memories like an average brain does. She was simply asked not to withstand any circumstances to that might lead to overstraining her brain. It never bothered her much.
Excited to revisit her precious memories in her childhood home, she began exploring. As she recalled, there was one specific room that she wasn't allowed to enter, no matter what. Her parents would let her do anything but that. It was their only rule. Don't enter that room. Her mother explained that the room stirred up disturbing emotions connected with her disorder that she feared might cause the amnesia to reccur. Jo obeyed her mother inspite of her curiosity because she had always felt a chilly presence when she lingered about for too long near the place. "Not today.", She thought. She reached the room and stood at the door for a while, hoping that she was wrong a child. But she wasn't. There it was, the chilly presence, gripping her hand and making her blood freeze. Colder than ever.
Though Jo was frightened, she was determined to keep going. Inserting the key, she twisted till the lock click and swung the door wide open, hoping for the worst. To her surprise, she was presented with the prettiest, most tastefully decorated room she had ever seen. It was a shade of pastel pink and decorated with exquisite rosewood furniture. One of the walls read 'AMBER', the letters crafted carefully with ribbons, pearls and diamonds.
"Amber." The name struck a bell in Jo's mind. "She was someone important to me. Very important." Suddenly, the presence grew colder.
Her eyes wandered from one item to an other as her brain processed everything it was seeing. Things came rushing back to her, like puzzle pieces she never knew existed sliding back into place. Jo looked at the photo arranged on the nightstand. A sweet family of four, smiling in the bright sunlight. She recognized herself and her parents, but couldn't recall the fourth face, though she was certain that the girl kissing baby Jo on the cheek was Amber. "She was my twin sister! I am sure of it. But Mom and Dad always said that I was an only child, and why would they lie to me? What happened to Amber? Is she doing fine?" A billion questions came rushing to Jo and it was too much for her to handle.
She sat down, holding her head. She felt something against her back. She reached for it and picked it up in one quick motion, looked at it and just as quickly, dropped it, utterly horrified.
"What the hell?! That's blood!" She cried, feeling certain that the temperature dropped even further. It was almost as if the chilly presence was behind the returning these lost memories to Jo.
"Amber...she died...", Jo said, sobbing more in horror than pain, her eyes wide with fear. She couldn't take it anymore. She had to get out of here. Whatever happened, she'd rather not know. But as she began to walk towards the door, her feet stopped obeying her. She tried and tried to move forward, away from this nightmare of a room, but her entire body felt a cold, dark resistance.
"The presence... It's controlling my body.... No! Let me go, please!", Jo thought. She didn't have it in her to speak. Or she couldn't. No, she couldn't speak either. Her mouth was jammed shut. Her entire body felt disconnected from her. She couldn't do anything with it. Only her mind was still present, much to her dismay. Given the circumstances, she would much rather have her brain go numb.
Suddenly, her body began to move towards the study table. The presence made the sit down and made her hand open the journal lying on it. It opened to a page that read:
"September 6th, 2000
My sweet, beautiful daughter. I am so sorry for what happened to you. I know that sorry won't cover it, but I don't know what to do. I wish I had more time with you. I wish I had known that the last time I hugged you and kissed you was the last time ever. I wish I had never left you alone with your unstable sister. I wish I had come running when I heard you scream the first time. Or the second. By the third time, it was already too late. And now you're gone forever. I have no one to blame for it but myself and your father. I wish you know how much we love you."
Her hand went on to flip a few more pages and stop at a page that read:
"We are not ready to let you go. You might be gone physically, but I know that your soul is here with us. I can feel you. And I promise you that I'll give you the best life for as long as I can. And I promise I'll never let that monster Jo come near you again. Don't worry, baby. She has been cured of her mental retardation, so no one will ever suffer what you went through. I'll take care of her and give her the best I can, because inspite of everything, I cannot stop loving her. But I'll always love you so much more, Amber. And I promise she'll face the concequesces of her actions. Maybe someone will stab her 7 times the way she stabbed you with that stump of wood that I've still kept under the bed. I'll see. Until then, we promise to provide you with the best of everything. And I'll always be there for you, sweetie. I'm not going anywhere. Don't worry."
As Jo read, she descended into insanity. "I'm a killer. A murderer. I don't deserve to live."
"That's right, sister." Jo felt the cold presence smile as she took over her mind too. "Now we'll walk over, take the stump of wood you killed me with and stab you seven time in the chest just like the way you did to me."
And with that, Jo walked over to the bed, bent down to take the stump of wood covered in Amber's dry blood and stabbed herself. Once. Twice. Thrice. Four times. Five times. Six times. Seven times.
Word count: 1224
Your condensing contemplation,
You never compromised on winning,
Even if there never really was a competition.
Even now as you mock me towards your coffin
I gaze at your quiet smirk
Resting upon your slumbering face.
Pathetic as always, you have won again.
Lost to you forever I wish you'd come back to me.