Prompt for #SoCS October 23, 2021

Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “body parts.” Pick a body part and talk about it.

And people learn to live without them.

©2021 CBialczak Poetry

Whirligig 340

Welcome to The Whirligig, a place for you and your muse to find inspiration. Each Wednesday I will post 12 words with which you may create a poem, a short story, or some other piece of writing. Use the words in any form, as many (or as few) of them as you wish.

You will be able to link your writing to this site anytime, for the link never expires.

If you’d like to contribute 12 words, please e-mail them to:

THIS WEEK’S WORDS come from “Song Sparrow” by Bruce Willard: sound, before, decades, porch, sparrow, summer, held, hand, bent, fingers, feathers, bone


The Sparrow

I heard the sound before the sight
A sparrow singing taking flight
Held in time and lost in space
Living slow in summer’s pace

For decades more and years ahead
Holding hands, from porch to bed
With fingers bent and bones amiss
Feathers soft as a lover’s kiss

©2021 CBialczak Poetry

Three Things Challenge #754

Below are three things that may, or may not, be related. Simply read the prompt and see where your creativity takes you.

Your three things today are:

Out for a dinner
red wine is a start
not a fan of red meat
not good for my heart
leaving out the Prime Rib
and opting for some fish
leaving room for sugar
in an big ice-creamy dish.

©2021 CBialczak Poetry

The Sunday Whirl: Wordle #523

Brenda Warren is our host for the Sunday Whirl. You can join in here

Finding Gold

Going to the beaches
With murder on my mind
A mission that I need to keep
I need to watch the time

The boat comes by and sees me
Its speedy and its sleek
Taking corners tightly
Never seeming weak

Taking up my weapon
No space for a mistake
In the air I feel a presence
Nothing found for heaven’s sake

Drawing up my  dragger
No fear left in my gut
Looking for the piece of gold
Well hidden and well put. 

©2021 CBialczak Poetry

The Sunday Whirl: Wordle 522

Join in the fun here

Elf Forest

Along the walk I took today
I never pictured what I’d see
A dove, a tree, a whole forest
And there were elves in front of me
To my dismay and to my fear
They just came thundering right by
And stopped right there straight in my path
I blundered and let out a cry
The biggest one had a tattoo
Upon his hairy chest
And then the one who was so small
Wore an old, brown leathery vest
It was the one in the old vest
who spoke to me high with a shrill
“The forest is the danger here”
He said loud with an angst until
I bent way down to his small size
An umbrella right near his ear
“I covet my own privacy
So you just go away from here”

He looked me up and then he said
Like a brave king upon a throne
I’m seven years the king of here
This is the forest I do own!”

So then I took a large step back
Letting me give this guy some space
But he didn’t want to let it go
He got right back up in my face
“I said that this is my own land
And you’re no longer welcome here!”

I turned to him and loudly said
“For that I don’t really care!”

I turned again to walk away
And then I felt his little fist
He didn’t realize I was so big
So I grabbed him by his wrist
I swung him up right to the tree
Which was standing there where we were
I told him “take a flying leap”
And now that tiny elf’s no more!

©2021 CBialczak Poetry

Prompt for #SoCS October 9, 2021

Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “lid.” Use it in the literal sense, use it in the metaphorical sense, use it any way you’d like. Have fun!

Closing the lid
on a past best forgotten
with tendrils
trying to pry open
the covering
which protected
the secrets
needing to be buried
and never

©2021 CBialczak Poetry

#Writephoto: Tomb

The Tomb

KL posted a fantastic picture for this week’s prompt!

Rising slowly
above the mist
the corpse will come
he has a list
of those to visit
of those to haunt
like your uncle Paul
and then your aunt
and then he’ll go
and find you shaking
to see what kinds
of trouble you’re making
he’ll laugh and grin
and you will scream
like the ghosts of hell
in a real bad dream.

©2021 CBialczak Poetry

The Sunday Whirl: 10/03/2021

The Concert

Feeling quite frozen and nearly lost in this space

reluctantly leaving the comforts of a known place

Peering around for solace away from the crowd

Pulling his hat down since the venue was loud

He thought it quite lame to sit here and wallow

cramming down popcorn barely able to swallow

He pulls out his ticket to check for the date

Thinking maybe the show was just running quite late

He used to be patient and quiet and kind

Never the type to avenge a brilliant mind

But sitting for this long amongst noises and such

Made him remember why he disliked people so much

So he gets out his walking stick, set by his seat

Asking the near neighbors to tuck in their feet

Moves right along the row reserved just for him

Deciding a concert was a foolhardy whim.

©2021 CBialczak Poetry

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