With all intent and purposes I crack the curtains quick I try to get a glimpse of who might loom and play a trick. I grip the curtain with my hand, creeped out by a large stain I wonder if it’s part of the man’s now exploded brain. I hear a noise and whirl around, more of a clumsy spin To see through light left by the moon and then I leaned right in. I saw my Lord in my garden of coloredtulip blooms He is my favorite man of law, mixed in like smokey fumes I backed right up and curled my fingers ’round the slack fabric And tried to think of why I’m here, I’d figure something quick My mind erased the memories of seeing him that day But every night when I lay down, to him I like to pray I pray that he comes back around to see me at my best And go to sleep with joyous vibes inclined to take a rest.
‘As ancestors go, mine are pretty unique From the depths of the oceans to tall mountain peaks The grief from their passing is replaced with a smile The sadness is lifted, depths of loss reconcile Pretty bright blooms rise right out of the ice Rain melts the snow, it is really quite nice Mud seems to grovel in crevices bare While salt from the ocean’s like crystals of air The bruises of sorrow on the skin of the soul Replace what the heart wants and what it still knows From the edge of a field to the top of a peak No words heard murmuring, no sounds here to seek Keep moving on ’til your cup runneth dry And remember the happiness each time you cry.
You’re not like me I’m not like you We’re like two peas In a pod that grew In some old garden Along an empty path So overgrown Mother Nature’s wrath. Someday our seeds Might come together fine But for now I wish you’re mine
He hadn’t meant to look so stupid in front of his friends.
How could a book report turn into a horror show within minutes?
Dennis was how!
Billy didn’t know they were reading the same book and he certainly didn’t know that his abridged version was not only the easier version but it kept some of the best details out!Sharon ran up to Billy as he walked along. “I thought your report was better! You enjoyed reading and it showed! I see the light in you when you talk, more than Dennis!”
Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “back of the fridge.” Write the first thing that comes to mind when you think of the phrase “back of the fridge.” Enjoy!
The Back of the Fridge
The back of the fridge is the scariest place there’s so much to see, but there’s so little space Things move and mingle when they shouldn’t survive Little things begin while the big growings thrive Theres all different colors as everyone knows ’cause the back of the fridge is where everything grows.
You know it is strange because Stream of Consciousness seems like it should be a thought or a story but my mind automatically goes to a rhyming poem. The story of my life somehow? I don’t know what to make of it!😅
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.
To superimpose that she had real big feet Lucy used towels and a comfortable sheet They were not that ugly, they were clean but she knew That if people saw something she’d see something too She didn’t want help nor some clean soft woolen socks She only wanted to be known for her long golden locks
Narcotic skies depict the culture of the world Where a fondness for hatred encapsulate thought An obtuse idea indicative of our leaders Who think of nothing more than sinking lower than ought
I don’t want to be saved in a place like a cupboard Closed and dark opened only once for a simple cup The design of our world should be clean and open Allowing us to live in peace, while the evil shut up
We are all different or that’s what they all say like the tiles lining the wall of a bathroom stall Scrubbed clean only when someone wants to do it showing the shine that is hiding under it all.
Someday there will be life without hate or sadness Brought on by others who have no care for the lame Grief is free, given when we have loved ones who depart In the end, don’t we know we all are the same