The Third of November
In a vigil to rival All Hallows’ Eve,
skulls of saints will scream in agony
at the slime pigments cast upon
election results by the fool
known as The Clown in Chief
as he casts his scepter as a crown.
The pellucid quest that follows
will underscore the truth
buried by the dim accuracy
of his claims of victory,
granting the solitudes wish
of the multitudes upon his soul.
This poem is my response to Poetics: The charms of Samuel Greenberg, the prompt from Laura at dVerse ~ Poets Pub, which is to write a poem using five of these phrases
from Samuel Greenberg’s “The Pale Impromptu”:
Dim Accuracy ~ Candle salve ~ Consumed moon
Eyes jealousy ~ Fouls deviation ~ Grey life
Hearts brow ~ Lucid farrows ~ Nulling marrows
Painted mirth ~ Pale heat ~ Palmed rose
Pearls from tissue ~ Pellucid quest ~ Royal flesh
Skulls of saints ~ Slime pigments ~ Spiritual songs
Solitudes wish ~ Times chant ~ Yellow dreams
I have used dim accuracy, pellucid quest, skulls of saints,
slime pigments, and solitudes wish.
Image source: David Horsey / Seattle Times (edited here)
Remember when you felt good about yourself, a time when you had no doubts about your abilities, your value to others, or the value of those around you? That part of you is not lost. It lives within you, still, and the time has come for you to recognize that.
Take a moment to breathe. In. Out. Slowly. Now, think about who you are, who you can be. The negative energy that has been feeding into you has poisoned your mind, masking who were. Let it wash away from you so that you may remember who you have been, recognize who you really are, and you will love again the stranger who was yourself.
Remember all of this as you enter the polling place with a clear conscience, determined to remove that toxic presence from the Oval Office. Don’t let yourself be fooled again.
This bit of flash fiction is my response to Prosery #3: Love After Love, presented by Kim at dVerse. With Prosery, the challenge is to write a piece of flash fiction with a 144-word limit. Included in the bit of prose is to be a complete line from a poem. For Prosery #3, the line to be included is “You will love again the stranger who was yourself” from Derek Walcott’s “Love After Love.” My flash fiction also meets the additional challenge of hitting the 144-word mark, exactly.
Image source: Tulsa World (Bruce Plante)
following path of conscience
when casting ballot
performing civic duty
ballot in box
Frank Tassone’s #Haikai Challenge #59: Election Day/Democracy
Show me your needs.
Will they change with the weather?
If you don’t want turkey, why put it in the oven?
An election is an attendance record. Nothing more.
Hold it on Black Friday, the price of admission.
Give the pollsters something to talk about.
Be prepared to stand in line, pitch a tent.
Don’t worry about dinner.
There’s always leftovers.
Recipe for Disaster
The walls grow ever closer,
and the last light of day threatens to
leave us in darkness,
as trouble brews,
with the village idiot stirring the pot.
This is my response to Sue Vincent’s (Daily Echo) Thursday Photo Prompt – Smoke #writephoto, with her photo.
Damn the Consequences
Loud, the debate in the recent study of
Sad, the outcome in a system that has become
little more than a game
Change for the sake of change, regardless of consequences,
the unwritten herald for a new day
Dissatisfaction and dissent the likely reaction to policies and changes,
regardless of true desires, regardless of outcome
The five word prompts for The Secret Keepers Weekly Writing Challenge #63 are game, study, sad, loud and become.
artsketchwithaview 6/6, by Harry Moody
Dismay, not surprise, at the outcome
Of a misguided show of strength
Deposing the status quo
An age of upheaval
When discontent acts
With little pause
This nonet is my response to The Secret Keeper’s Weekly Writing Prompt #62, with the prompt words pause, over, strength, age & change.
Nonet ~ a poem of nine lines and a syllable pattern of 9-8-7-6-5-4-3-2-1, with rhyme optional
Image source: Saatchi Art (artsketchwithaview 6/6, by Harry Moody)
faint light of dawn fails
spirits refuse lifting
rising sun no consolation
for a dark
headache infused dreams
tendrils of pain persist
acceptance, understanding of
fail to materialize
harsh light of sunrise no
turning to music
right away think
piano opens perfect mix
bass, sax, drums
piano, trumpet close perfect set
Kind of Blue
but feeling better
thank you, Miles
Miles Davis’ Kind of Blue
Image source: Wikipedia
fall where they may
in a season when
ash, maple, oak mingle
shuffled by passing footsteps
ears tune to whispers
held within light breezes
to decipher meanings
one leaf is elevated
no guarantee whether
its distinction is one of
Reams of ballots draped over her arm,
her other hand holding a glass of champagne
high above her head as she navigates the mass of
disgruntled electorate gathered at the polling place,
she proceeds to the podium, where she
raises her glass and offers a toast to the masses,
those who will suffer the most,
regardless of the outcome of the election
Image source: cbsnews.com