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 |  GoT plus the PromptMaster! and Cards Against Authors stuff (poetry and short stories) |
 Apparently this is going to be a load of writing of various types - stories, poems, reviews and, no doubt, just about anything else you can think of.. |
| Altschmerz Another day, another lack of dollar, eyes creak open to one more dark morning, and I must enter the cold to dress in preparation for more nothing. The same pains and aches find new regions and the floor feels uneven beneath my bare feet, the game of guess the ailment has lost its flavour, my defences still stand from long practice. When the future is crumpled into a tight ball within my grasp, squeezed long ago of all its juice and dry now to the touch, it’s hard to see a reason to continue. Old age is all and more than expected, once interesting in its changes, even soaring at times with possibilities, and now revealed as just another day. Line count: 16 Free verse For Cards Against Authors, Week 4 Prompt Prompt Card: You are suffering from Altschmerz (weariness with the same old issues that you’ve always had - the same boring flaws and anxieties you’ve been gnawing on for years, which makes you numb to them, and they're no longer interesting to think about). Woes Cards: Soar, Footprint (You only need to choose one word to use). |
| Tourist Class Like sardines in a baitball preparing for death in the can air travellers in the metal tube shuffle and stretch in the aisle stashing, stacking the spaces and sliding, packing in seats bodies retracted into armoured defences, silenced in hush and muttering under breath readied for the slingshot hours when earth falls away beneath and life constricts into limits bounded by elbows of touch unrequested or desired thought and reason squashed into this hollow existence endurance the only intent. Scant relief in the vision of sky folded flat meals on a tray jaded old movies squawking as the hum of the engines rumble to keep you aware another minute flown toward release from the press and racehorse blinkers unwound only for the smooth patter of captain’s announcement confidence unwarranted to scrape into your treasured invincibility so carefully nurtured to hold on to alone. Return to earth crescendo a sudden whoosh of arrival and freedom beckons in the rush to forget until flying again. Line count: 35 Free verse For PromptMaster! Week 4 Task Prompt Prompt: Using onomatopoeia, write a poem describing a crowded event. Make at least one sound jarring. |
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