Today we’re firing up that beautiful rainbow Saturday Jams EQ for a special Spring Flood edition of your favorite music video blog periodical!
Tag: #FOWC
Drying up — 2022.03.09
A vibrant landscape
smothered beneath arid dust
of fallen castles,
and our legions march, lockstep,
toward the next horizon —
crossing that dry bridge
between shrinking oases
as winter sets in.
Evaporate,
Justice the Ideal;
let us thirst,
left baking
under stars we invented
to honor Progress.
Twilight looms,
the only promise.
Follow the links in the poem’s text if you would like to scour the sources of my prompts: Fandango and the Ragtag Community. In their comments sections there is much more to discover!
Hanging on — 2022.03.08
Harried by the wind
and grasping for precious life,
persistent chaos
reigns last year’s leaf that shudders
to consider letting go . . .
Clutching, while near spring
Hastens the defrosting ground;
And facing that fall —
Open to options that lead
Somewhere other than earthward . . .
Inevitable
decomposability
inadmissible;
Unassailability
undisguisedly denied.
Follow the links in the poem’s text if you would like to scour the sources of my prompts: Fandango and the Ragtag Community. In their comments sections there is much more to discover!
Casting — 2022.03.04
Modern technology makes our lives shorter;
modern medicine works wonders in vain.
Remember time without emails
and notifications
and distractions without end?
The things we once craved are gone,
crumbled to dust in their obsolescence —
a shameful reminder that foolishness only adapts.
Once
nasty
people were
required to
face those subjected
to their scorn and distaste,
a way to make themselves feel
self-important . . . superior.
Now they hide behind a screen
and feel invincible;
minds are torn apart,
and trust is lost
in this world
virtue
shunned.
I’d reach back in time
and pull
All the good forward
If I believed the past could
truly simplify our lives today;
that task is ours.
⭐
Fast and dirty — 2022.03.03
If I were a pebble
I should like a referral
to become grains of sand on the beach;
to find my ways into toes,
into swimsuits and clothes —
and those mountains, so out of reach?
I’d conquer those too,
they’ll fall as the rest do!
Those defenses I’ll readily breach.
All the ladies will stop
to clear their swim-suit tops
and find them full of sand from the beach.
I guess I’m in a funny mood this morning — I got home from work, sat down to wade through an exhausting inbox full of email and decided to see if I could rip off a quick one. Today, some sort of tail-rhyming tercet scheme came out organically from the prompts and I guess I’ll just have to live with the monster I’ve created.
After all, there’s more where that came from!
😉
Follow the links in the poem’s text if you would like to scour the sources of my prompts: Fandango and the Ragtag Community. In their comments sections there is much more to discover!
Svefnþorn — 2022.03.01
Bring war, Sleep —
hanging crushing weight
on tired eyes,
dragging me
to some nowhere in-between
with my lame struggle,
not knowing
whether light survives
this journey . . .
dream, and hope
it will welcome my return
to the realm I left.
Follow the links in the story’s text if you would like to scour the sources of my prompts: Fandango and the Ragtag Community. In the comments section there is much more to discover!
Zero
That molten bubble inched aloft, scouring the ground with light. Nothing remained but an insinuation that here . . . war touched ground. I’m going to start touching back on flash fiction. I used to enjoy writing flash so much, and I think it’s time … Continue reading Zero
Höðr’s whispers – 2022.02.26
A chill windharangues face and ears;biting stingsslap at me —Höðr’s whispers telling meI will see no peace.
Tanka Thursday — 2022.02.24
That hard edgewhere the Earth and Skybrush soft —shooting beats of energyon both sides of that mirror.
It’s my Creation — is it real?
Life is wrapped in my creation,though I float on the snippets I might dowhile I work though hesitation. Filling voids left by inflation,I conjure things new, bespoke, that ring true —life is rapt in my creation. But fixed to preserve my position,life recedes to a … Continue reading It’s my Creation — is it real?
Rob's Surf Report 