Vanity In Reptiles – A Quadrille (Entirely Jane Dougherty’s Fault)

The size six snake

three trees over,

slithered past here

last Saturday.

The iguana on fern

saw her by the pool.

Think’s she looks better

in the water.

Told the croc by willow

he should swim on.

Big boys like him

stand no chance.


This is what happens when poets start commenting on other poet’s work. You end up down the rabbit hole with snakes, iguanas and crocodiles.

(It didn’t end well for the rabbit.)

To check out the writer who provided the inspiration for this quadrille, and then joined me in the madness, hop over to Jane Dougherty Writes. There you can find more of her work like the poem below:

Whip snake
resplendent in green and black beading,
striped vicious as a wasp,
terrifying as braided headdress,
twisted and entwined
with feathers and human teeth,
squirms and twitches and sloughs,
aghast
that this shrugged off apparel,
skin of skins,
must be how he looks.

Hollow Flowers – Friday Fictioneers

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The flowers were supposed to be an apology and a promise. The apology was for buying three thousand miniature figures of a unknown comic book hero and failing to find somewhere other than the living room to store them. The promise was that they would be gone before she got back from her sister’s the following week. He bought her a second bouquet when that deadline came and went and the boxes were still rendering the kitchen inaccessible.

They were pretty flowers, she’d admit that.

The flames were beautiful though. She liked them much better than any bunch of flowers.

(100 words)

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PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson

Hey! Short-Arse.

I’ve always been short,

short person,

short stuff,

short arse,

elbow rest,

lean on my head,

talk over the top of me,

clamber over boxes,

steps, stools, ladders

to reach those things

you can reach.

I’ve always been short,

not going to get any taller,

stopped growing now,

stopped growing up at least,

bought new jeans this week

two dress sizes up

which is a pain

because these jeans are a 10

and my wedding dress an 8

but there’s room to breath

and wiggle a little

so perhaps I’m more 9 than 10

and as a 9 maybe I can suck in…

or go to the gym

and use the membership

draining my account each month.

I like to work out

sometimes,

I like yoga

when there’s the room,

but really I should go,

less to loose weight

more to tone

and focus on staying fit

instead of spreading outwards

because I’m short

and I’ll always be short

so best not match my height

with my waist

and try to find the stuff

to keep me from getting stuffed

when it comes to getting dressed

on my wedding day.

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It’s been ages since I sat down and wrote a proper stream of consciousness piece where I let whatever pops into my brain out on the page. I literally have no idea how this piece reads because if I go back and reread it I’ll want to tweak it and that ruins the point of the challenge. Anyway, I hope you liked it and I’d love to hear your thoughts.

Can you guess the one word prompt?

Roundabout Fury

‘The phrase “ignore it and it will go away.” does NOT apply to being chased by a dozen cop cars… trust me on this one. ‘ Amy swore and pressed herself into the passenger side door as Ken flicked off his indicator and skidded around the roundabout at sixty. ‘For fu-‘ Her words disappeared as the car clipped one of the council’s new ‘keep our streets clean initiative’ bins and rubbish exploded across the car windscreen.

‘Can you believe the weather?’ Ken tutted and turned the windscreen wipers on. ‘I blame global warming.’

Behind them the screech of the police sirens grew.

‘Shall we have some Radio?’ Ken asked, already reaching for the dial.

‘Ken!’ Amy lunged for the steering wheel and wrenched it towards her as they began veering right.

‘Shit, Amy!’

They hit the curb, and then the flower bed of freshly sprouted daffodils, before the eventual howling whine of the town park’s wrought iron fencing. Coughing on the smoke now pouring from the engine, Amy fumbled for her seat belt. Across from her Ken groaned and wiped the blood from beneath his left eyebrow.

‘Jeez Amy, what’s got into you?’

‘Me!’ Amy spluttered. ‘What’s got into me? What’s got into you more like! I told you to let it go! There is more than one pack of crisps in the world! If you had bloody listened none of this would have happened!’

‘But…’ Ken wilted beneath her glower. ‘They were cheese and onion.’

‘My mother was right,’ said Amy. ‘I should have divorced you after the truffle incident.’


 

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Written for the prompt ”The phrase “ignore it and it will go away.” does NOT apply to being chased by a dozen cop cars… trust me on this one. ‘ from Promptuarium.

If you like this then check out Solitary Creatures. Would you help save the world if a zombie asked you to?

NaPoWriMo Day Nineteen

Not So Green Fingers

One. Remember the rose plant you bought two weeks ago

Two. Pray

to something you only half believe in,

that it’s still alive.

Three. Quickly brush away the dead leaves,

crunchy and browning in a circle,

and after, fill the bin with odds and sods,

to hide your failure at tending a living thing.

Four. Water it!

But remember, too much and it will die

somewhat more than it already has.

Five. Let it sit,

then dispose of any remaining water,

still staining the saucer,

culled from the kitchen cupboard because

you don’t own any pretty plant pots.

Six. Buy a plant pot,

because the saucer doesn’t fit on the windowsill,

and sunlight would probably be a good thing

seeing as photosynthesis,

is pretty important for these plant types.

Seven. Pray and hope a little more.

Who knows?

Green fingers might be something you grown into.

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