NaPoWriMo #15 – Contortionist

NaPoWriMo 2019
I've often found myself contorting,
squeezing into other peoples' boxes.
Maybe it's because I'm small.
I can fit into places easily.
But my stomach hangs over my legs,
petruding over the line.
Stuffing never helps.
Hiding can often reveal more than
what was
hidden.
So I stopped contorting.

The Visit – Flash Fiction #1

Short Stories & Flash Fictions

The house was as it always was; the concoctions of must and chipping paint gave it its usual pungent smell, while the ever-expanding cobwebs decorated the plain walls nicely. Like the residents, the spiders themselves were scarcely seen, however, meaning that the space between the walls were often left blank. An empty home was a strange sight indeed. No family, no dining table, no white picket fence here.

Culture

Poetry

New week, new poems! The writing prompt for today is:

A very small object


Culture

Priyanka means ‘beautiful’,
in a language I can call my own,
it is fun to curl next to my Culture at night,
to be able to call it home.

Many people envy that,
they do not have such a Bubble,
maybe it is because they must find their culture,
in other people’s rubble.

The roof of the house only came crashing down,
I tell them,
because one of your ancestors wanted Greed.
They wanted more than they could bargain for,
and so their limits they did exceed.

Their house grew and grew until it could fit no more,
whilst people of my culture,
were left to wash the floors.

Now, my home is beautiful,
with bright colours and small trinkets,
it has been enhanced.
Perhaps that is why the Names that live here,
are more freely able to dance.

 

 


This poem was written as part of National Novel Writing Month 2017 [Day 12, Poem #6]