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Brief prose and poetry lacking other categories... (Only rated 18+ as a formality :) |
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Basically anything under 1k or 500 words that's not a Drabble, an Express It in Eight, or a Promptly Poetry. Enjoy
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| Loom Iād like to be a tapestry Filled with vivid colors - The light, the dark, the shades and tones, Woven into a beautiful whole That shares a message of hope Like a security blanket For anyone who needs it Iād be a tapestry Sitting on the loom Never quite complete With new colors and threads Weft upon the horizon Looming is a sunrise Or is that a sunset? Both are equally stunning And we need balance to move forward Weaving our story In vivid colors Upon the loom of life. 19 lines. Written in response to "Note: Newsfeed Contest Write a poem directly in the..." Inspired by the upcoming release of the Imagine Dragons album Loom.  |
| Twenty seven years ago, I was born, Collarbone broken on the way out, Imbued with moroseness from the womb. I knew pain, but forgot it, apparently. Still, dysfunction runs deep, A disjointed mashup of entangled weirdnessā At odds with everyone from the beginningā Particularly my mom. Long-suffering, she regales me repeatedly with bitter memories of life before I came along: treachery and woe, sickness and pain, Decades of self-sacrifice leading to nothing but disaster. From which my deeply cynical nature, Unconvinced otherwise, concluded: What's the point? Why do it that way? Why do as you did, Or do as you say, When I can do it my way: Selfish, silent, solitary, stagnant. Nihilism unchecked, I fell, as a stone rolls downhill. Incompatible, yet forever trapped, I test the ties that bind like fraying bungee cords, Flinging myself headlong off cliffs to escape Only to find myself back again, inevitable. Drawn to the only person who ever cared, Demanding what she cannot give me because she's still seeking it herself: Wholeness, acceptance, understandingāa home. We grow old together, homeless at heart, Unable to connect yet utterly inseparable, Driving each other crazy, Wondering why we're still relating the same way we did when I was two years old. It can't be her faultāshe did the best she could. Raised me in a garden paradise, books galore, education at home, safe, protected, at great costs to her own well-being. I learned morals, spirituality, miracles, arts and crafts; I wrote, I played, I dreamed, built worlds. I aced the ACT, twice. Where did it all vanish to? Why am I stuck, immobilized, wasting irrevocable time, unable to do for her All that she does for me? My worldview is a blindfold. I need fresh eyes to see positive potential In myself and others. Supplanting deep-rooted antisocial attitudes is tearing up every fiber of my being Like renovating a haunted house. But I can't allow myself to rot, Disappointing my mother who gives herself up for me Every single day. 57 lines, 335 words. Written for "Merit Badge Magic" Happy Mother's Day, Mom    |
| Dear Diary: My name is Lizzie. Today was the first day of school. I'm in fifth grade this year. Mrs. Sanders says I should keep a diary to write down important things. She asked if I'd like to read some of it aloud each week. No way! I shook my head. Talking is super awkward, especially with a new teacher. All my friends were here from last year, so I felt comfortable. Today we learned about reptiles and amphibians and how they're cold-blooded. I thought that was bad, but Mrs. Sanders explained how it means their body temperature matches whatever it is outside. Joey asked why people call each other cold-blooded, and she said it means someone doesn't have feelings, like regret or guilt or sadness. That sounds scary. I don't want to be one of those people. * Today a new kid came to school. My friend Paul said he's autistic, and that means he can't speak. But Joey said not all autistic kids can't talk, only the severe ones. They started arguing. Joey asked Mrs. Sanders if the new kid can talk, and she said no. So he must be severe. His name is Aaron. He's small and dorky and wears glasses. At lunchtime no one let Aaron sit with them. Paul said they're afraid of him cause he makes weird sounds and waves his arms. He sat in a corner, rocking back and forth. He didn't eat anything. I wanted to ask him if he was ok, but I was afraid to. My uncle said autistic kids can hurt people. I don't think Aaron would hurt anyone. But I don't know. And he couldn't tell me anyway. * Today we learned about volcanoes. Hayden said Aaron is cold-blooded because he's autistic. I wanted to ask Mrs. Sanders if that's true. I don't think it is. But I stayed quiet. Everyone's talking about Aaron except me. I don't talk much about anything, usually. I like to hear what others are saying. I'm worried about why he doesn't eat. He doesn't bring lunch, but he doesn't buy one either. Maybe he's not hungry? But he seems really sad. No one ever asks if he's ok. Sometimes kids yell at him. He doesn't seem to notice. * I think I should do something about Aaron. He never eats lunch. But what can I do? I'm afraid I'll cause trouble. I'm so worried, I don't even remember what we learned in class today. Something about photosynthesis and rainforests and Amazon. I thought of offering him some of my peanut butter and jelly, but what if he's allergic? I think I should tell a grownup first, before doing anything. Ugh. I don't like having to talk to people. It makes me feel sick inside. What if I say the wrong thing? Maybe I shouldn't say anything at all. He'll be fine, right? * I was wondering what to do about Aaron today. Mrs. Sanders read us one of the really old Winnie the Pooh stories from a big book. One quote jumped out at me. I think Eeyore said it: "A little consideration, a little thought for others, makes all the difference." I felt like she was talking to me! I knew what I should do, even though I was super nervous. When we got up at recess, I waited until everyone was gone. My heart was beating really fast and I felt so jumpy, like I wanted to run away. "Mrs. Sanders, I need to talk to you." "Of course, Lizzie. Is something wrong?" "It's about Aaron. He doesn't eat anything for lunch. I'm worried. He looks really sad." "Really? That's not good. Thank you for telling me. I'll reach out to his mom and let her know so she can pack him a meal." Then Mrs. Sanders looked me in the eye and smiled and patted my shoulder. "I know it might have been difficult for you to speak up, Lizzie. It's ok to let trusted grownups know when you see a problem. You did good." "Thank you so much, Mrs. Sanders!" It was such a relief to get it over with. It wasn't nearly as awkward as I was afraid of. I'm glad I spoke up. * Today Mrs. Sanders told me about Aaron. He wasn't eating because he doesn't like what our school serves. He's super sensitive about textures and how food looks and smells. So now his mom knows to prepare something he can eat. At lunchtime, he had food. He was grinning and eating heartily. I felt so happy knowing he's ok now. Speaking up is really important. Eeyore is right: caring about others makes a big difference. Words: 790. Written for "Writing 4 Kids" May prompt: "A little consideration, a little thought for others, makes all the difference." - Eeyore. |
| Fadeoutāline between good and evil Drawn jagged within my heartāerased. I wear a mask each day: Good girl, proper, angelic. Never an unclean word escapes. No one guesses monstrous insanity lurks beneath: Fights to the death, scenes of torment, Dreams I wake up apologizing to God for. Torn between abhorrence and fascination I wear conservative values Protected behind iron bars of fastidious rules. Who would I become If I broke out of prison? Bitter nausea overwhelms my attempt to answer. Venomous spiders dangle In unswept corners of my soul. Nightmares illuminate what I deny. If I am who I am in the dark, I refuse to accept myself, Splintered between decent and dirty Outcast from my short-circuiting mind bristling with electric barbed wire, Chasing cockroaches in circles under a bloody full moon. Is uncleanness my identity? Or is it my struggle, my burden, I've been assigned to resist? Enlightenment at tunnel's end, Or train wreck inexorable? 30 lines, 156 words. Written for "Rebel Poetry Contest" Chosen Prompt: The Ballad of Lucy Jordan (written by Shel Silverstein  ) |
As believers, who are we? Are we Peter, grasping Christ's true self, Growing, maturing, with pure intentions? Falling flat in denial under trial, Seeking forgiveness and trying again? Or are we Judas: devious, scheming, Purportedly trustworthy but inwardly lost Desiring only to grasp material wealth Sacrificing what we should have protected For a bag of gold? Perhaps the essence of both Wrestles in the heart of every believer. Duality of sin and salvation Threatens to destroy us each day. Pray without ceasing. Cling to the Father. Ask yourself: Who am I? Judas? Or Peter? Words: 90. Lines: 16. Written for "SCRIPTURE POETRY CONTEST" Prompt: a poem about anything which took place between Good Friday and Easter Sunday. |
| My Fido, he barks real loud Chasing all the squirrels But I love him, love him, love him He knows I love him beyond words. And maybe he smells like dog But I don't think that's a prob, 'Cause every time he wags his tail I just wanna yell, "Let's hear it for the dog! Let's give the dog a bone! Let's hear it for my Fido You know you gotta understand He may be no Cane Corso But he's my snuggly one-dog show Woof, woof, woof, Let's hear it for the dog!" My Fido's alert and bright He won't let strangers by. He guards me, guards me, guards me I know I'm always safe by his side. Sometimes he chews my shoes But that's the worst he'll ever do, 'Cause every time I see his eyes I just wanna cry, "Let's hear it for my dog! Let's give the dog a treat! Let's hear it for my Fido I just gotta let you know He ain't got no pedigree But he's the perfect dog for me! Woof, woof, woof, Let's hear it for the dog!" Lines: 32. Words: 186. A dog-slobbery parody of the 1984 song by Deniece Williams, Let's Hear It For the Boy. Written for "Merit Badge Magic" Theme: National Pet Day. video ▼ |
Air, vibrant, living, Joyful birds sail turquoise skies Precious sight above. Water, flowing pure, Otters slide down riverbanks, Whales dance in the sea. Caterpillars munch Curves into tasty green leaves Soon to be transformed Into butterflies Floating so delicately Bearing rainbow wings. Earth, safe home to all Protect it while we can Wild friends will thank us. Lines: 15. Words: 57. Written for "Writing 4 Kids" April prompt: children's nature haiku. |
| Devout, in purest prayer unceasing Across changing kingdoms, ever faithful No regiments could make him fall away. In trials, chains, fiery furnaces, standing strong; Even hungry lions became as kittens for him. Learn to be like Daniel: strong, wise, Godly. Six lines, 40 words. Written for Quihadi's Christian Poetry contest, "SCRIPTURE POETRY CONTEST" Prompt: write a meaningful acrostic using a Bible character's name. |
| Jimmy was a brilliant space engineer on the Kokomo 350 starship. Until it veered too close to a black hole, causing the ship to implode, killing everyone on board except him. Now he's suspected of causing the disaster. His career is ruined, he's jaded and disgruntled, and he subsists by delivering meals to humans incarcerated on distant moons. One day, he delivers a meal to Petra and recognizes her as a mechanic from Kokomo 350. She explains she survived by hiding in a snowcone machine and claims she's imprisoned because she knows why the ship was blown up. Her dog, Snoopy, is a cyborg programmed to help her build snowcone machines which can withstand the forces of black holes. When Snoopy disappears, leaving behind a pile of disassembled snowcone machines, Petra decodes a cryptic message from a band of rogue ThornJogs, threatening to wreak destruction by unleashing black holes throughout the known universe. She believes they've kidnapped Snoopy to prevent her from building enough snowcone machines to suppress the holes. Petra escapes from the moon prison with Jimmy being her getaway driver. Together they hack into Snoopy's computers, determining his location. Arriving, they find proof ThornJogs are responsible for what happened to Kokomo 350: an experiment, preparing for a large scale attack. Jimmy and Petra infect Snoopy with a virus overriding ThornJog orders, destroying their software. But after disabling the threat, a twist arises, jeopardizing the entire universe's stability and testing Jimmy and Petra's skills like never before. notes ▼ |
| A fantastic proposal: taming a dragon, Teaching it manners or pulling a wagon. It's long and hard, but also quite fun Taming a dragon under the sun. Adopt an egg first, help it to hatch Plenty easier than trying to catch. Once it's a baby, feed it quite well Hold it, talk to it, trust it can tell. Your kindness pays off: an obedient fledgling Stays by your side without any meddling. Next comes the training, the do and the don't Patience is crucial, or teaching it won't. Steadfast like clockwork, your schedule maintain; This helps it to learn and patterns to gain. Advance it gently, with plenty of praise Set goals and levels to guide it in grace. Soon your dragon will grow strong and mature A beautiful sight, that's for sure! Flying freely across summer skies A creature well-trained, healthy and wise. 20 lines, 144 words, couplets in verses of four lines each. |
| Joe realized too late: he's not destined to be the next Brad Pitt. His destiny instead lies within the crumbling walls of Dinosaur Dreams, an outdated theme park with more violations than patrons. He wears a T-Rex outfit, doing tricks in an attempt to drum up publicity. His income dwindles as inspectors threaten to shut it down. One day he catches a reporter, Riley, snooping with a metal detector. She tells him she's looking for a legendary harmonica, which can cause landslides by reverberating at Earth's natural frequencies, purportedly buried on the grounds. Joe schemes to host a massive treasure hunt where he charges admission for a chance to locate the harmonica. He wants Riley to write a front-page story about it. She reluctantly agrees. But as treasure seekers pour in and Joe makes money, he worries someone will actually find the harmonica and his newly lucrative park will fail. He is determined to find it, digging all night. Riley competes with him, desperately racing to find it first. She rents a bulldozer and tears down his house, thinking he's already found it and hidden it. Then, gangsters raid the park, holding them hostage, searching for the harmonica themselves. They want to use it to find buried treasure by making landslides. Amidst wreckage of house and theme park, can Joe and Riley band together in time to dodge gangsters, find the harmonica, reveal the absurd truth of what everyone's been looking for and even fall in love? Words: 247. Notes ▼ |
| I've watched days slipping away, Dragged under by hungry Nessie. Time stands paralyzed, frozen like Stonehengeā Why am I here? Ropes hold me fast Binding against my will. Distraught midnight shrouds my mind; Fleeting years wasted, clutching what I do not desire. Shattered piggy bank forces me to wait In a lineup of slipshod impoverished freaks Hoping to gain survival by bargaining at the deskā¦ The return desk, that is. 11 lines, 70 words, free verse. Written for "PromptMaster !" Task Prompt: Use hyperbole to write a poem about a minor inconvenience. Make it an epic struggle worthy of legend. |
| When Charlie The Hungry Moabite invents Latin rap music in 14th century Higginbotham Hollow, the religious elite decries it as demonic garbage. They drum him out of town into the uncharted wilderness of Corduroy Caverns, where he discovers Josh, a nerdy young softie who was supposed to kill the giant dragon who's been terrorizing the village. Josh would prefer befriending the dragon and reading books to it, but his sarcastic talking sword threatens to turn against him if he does such a traitorous act. Charlie sympathizes with him and hatches a scheme to fool the villagers into thinking the dragon is dead using spaghetti sauce. Somehow the prank goes awry, and the talking sword uses the spaghetti sauce to convince Josh he's accidentally killed Charlie. The sword thinks if it gets rid of the two cowardly custards, it can go kill the dragon by itself and get all the credit, eventually becoming king of the peasant villagers. Charlie and the dragon take matters into their own hands, forming a friendly hip-hop duo which impresses the village priest when it helps heal a sick child. Now convinced of the benefits of rap music and the goodwill of the dragon, the priest must help them rescue softhearted Josh from the vicious talking sword before it takes control of the land. Words: 217. prompt ▼ |
| Dear God, Please protect the tiny human Growing inside the womb of my dearest friend. Shower your blessings upon them both Keep them healthy and strong As You form the little one in Your image. Give my friend the fortitude to be a mother, Strength to raise a child in the way they should go So that when they are old they will not depart from it. Keep the fetus free from all the disorders I fear it could get between now and the birth. Please let it be a happy baby, with a happy childhood. I couldn't bear to see it any other way. Thank you, Lord, for the precious gift of life. In Jesus name, amen. 15 lines, 118 words. Prompt: a prayer of supplication or intercession. Inspired by real life. My most sincere prayers seem to be when others are expecting babies. I forget to pray for myself. |
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