Free Verse, Poetry by Sarah, Scribblings by Sarah

Fall

One last assault,
as we run towards the finish line.
I can’t afford to fall.

But
I
do.

As I sail to the ground,
my knees nudging the earth,
I realise I am their puppet.

It’s too deep-seated –
and I have no case for change.
So I find myself a bar instead…

By Sarah ©2017

Prompt: Sunday Whirl, Wordle 329, Words: run, bar, deep, nudge, last, assault, case, afford, seat, puppet, fall, sail

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Scribblings by Sarah, Stories by Sarah

The Anniversary

It was The Anniversary of the Zombie Apocalypse Take 2, and aside from Missing An Eye, it hadn’t been the House Of Bones they’d been expecting. It was beyond Insatiable Doubt really, that The Old Sawmill had remained virtually untouched. Whispers in the Wall advised them, that All That Lies Broken was The Jagged Piece outside the door. As they finally ventured out into the remains of the world, cheers surrounded them. The Sound of Pride of those who’d survived.

By Sarah ©2017

Prompt: Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie, Sunday Writing Prompt, #232 – It’s All In The Title. Task: Choose one or more of the titles below and fashion a poem or story around it – The Old Sawmill, Insatiable Doubt, The Missing Eye, House of Bones, Zombie Apocalypse Take 2, The Jagged Piece, All That Lies Broken, Whispers in the Wall, The Sound of Pride.
The Anniversary

Scribblings by Sarah, Stories by Sarah

Blue

She chained the door; loosely, though enough to keep others away.

Her heart was blue for now; heavy, hurt and seeking solace – like an animal licking its wounds; but invariably, that would change.

One day the chains would be smashed and the doors would open again, her heart bursting forth; ready for love once more.

By Sarah ©2017

Prompt: Only 100 Words, Three Line Tales – Week 97

Scribblings by Sarah

The Incident

The incident took place after a moment of forgettery in June. The external mesh had a hell of a job, holding back the flinging masses. I asked my friend if I may lend a tool to ease the effect of neglect. With a pop of the shears, the demagogue had been decapitated.

By Sarah ©2017

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Image credit Laughing With Angels

Prompt: Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie, Wordle #181, Words: incident, lend, forgettery (n. a faculty or facility for forgetting; faulty memory), external, mesh, demagogue (n. a person, especially an orator or political leader, who gains power and popularity by arousing the emotions, passions, and prejudices of the people), hell, fling, effect, June, decapitate, pop

Free Verse, Poetry by Sarah, Scribblings by Sarah

No Party

I put on a song,
hoping the sound of music
will provide a temporary
e      s       c      a      p      e;
respite from this tedious task.
My mind pushes and pulls against itself.
Who voted on this existence anyway?
Not I.
Was it someone…
Thirsty for pain?
Wishing to drive us crazy?
Seeing if they can steal our weekends?
It’s no party, trust me.
Thankgoodness reports are finished.

By Sarah ©2017

Prompt: Sunday Whirl, Wordle 328, Words: song, escapes, thank, sound, pushes, if, exist, voted, thirsty, drive, wishes, party

Free Verse, Poetry by Sarah, Scribblings by Sarah

Reformation

We are caught up
in your uncanny tendencies.
Yet our vertebra demand
greater toughness from within.

We are stranded in this warren
with the muzzle of your barrel,
in our oscitant mouths.
Endeavouring for syncretism is fruitless.

We cry for reform – before we collapse.

By Sarah ©2017

Prompt: Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie, Wordle #180. Words: collapse, reform, oscitant (adj. yawning, as with drowsiness; gaping. drowsy or inattentive, dull, lazy, negligent, malaise), strand, syncretism (n. the attempted reconciliation or union of different or opposing principles, practices, or parties, as in philosophy or religion), warren, barrel, catch, tough, tendency, uncanny, vertebra

Free Verse, Poetry by Sarah, Scribblings by Sarah

Malaise

Aghast.
They are such pigs.

I cannot stow
my soliloquy,
no longer cordate.

I prayed this was just a
                                           transition.
Alas, it’s
                    M

                           A

                    L

                          A

                                 I

                       S

                            E

I find myself in limbo.

Do I bend?
Sacrifice accountability
– to myself and others;
Just to tick a box?

No.

I can’t tear ligaments
off my mental state any longer.

After all,
They are but pigs;
I choose integrity.

By Sarah ©2017

Prompt: Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie, Wordle #179
Words: pig, stow, limbo, malaise, tick, cordate (adj. heart-shaped), mental, soliloquize (v. talk to oneself), aghast, accountability, transition, ligament

Scribblings by Sarah

The Secret That Changed Everything

It was The Secret that Changed Everything. Jasper and the Magic Teapot stumbled through the Valley of Forgotten Souls and discovered My Inner Feral Child had had A Return to Lucidity, and that The Alter Ego had Got Away with The Cat’s Pajamas!

For the Love of Absurdity,” Jasper cried, his heart rate breaking its usual 60BPM, “couldn’t they just stay in The Uninhabitable Spaces Between Us?”

By Sarah ©2017 

Image credit Prawny via Pixabay

Prompt: Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie, Sunday Writing Prompt, #228 – It’s All In The Title. Task: Choose one or more of the titles below and fashion a poem or story around it 

Scribblings by Sarah

What’s In A Name?

The task: These are 10 Book titles. ACTUAL book titles – and your mission is to read the list, stop long enough from your gut splitting laughter, compose yourself, then choose a few from the list and write the “jacket blurb” – in no more than 10 sentences. Choose no more than 3 selections – and write the “explanation” of the content – in no more than 10 well-crafted sentences for each title.


“Living with Crazy Buttocks” by Ima Quivering
Did you know buttock implants are one of the fastest growing and most popular cosmetic surgeries among women? At a cost of $17,000, Ima expected the firm, satisfying appearance known as the ‘bubble butt’. However, what she ended up with was something else, altogether. Delve into the world of wobbles as Ima explores the weird and wild adventures of a derriere gone wrong… and how to survive it!

“The Pyromaniac’s Cookbook” by Major Burns
Welcome to the Pyromaniac’s Cookbook where recycling, reclaiming and reusing, has reached a whole new level. In this, his first cookbook, ex-firefighter Major Burns, talks you through how to use a burning house to your advantage. Why waste the natural, extreme heat offering you a perfect BBQ that could feed the whole neighbourhood? Sample the unusual flavours of smoked memories and blackened furniture to spice up any meat dish! Garnish with ash and charcoal for a tasty twist. Find out more about this renewable new cooking method, that can be used over and over again, as long as it’s not your house.

“Sorry I Ruined Your Orgy” by Patty Flungdung
Patty bravely shares her story – a gripping tale exploring the dark side of sexual experimentation. No longer satisfied with karma sutra, ménage a trois, or S and M; Patty and her group of extreme orgiest friends have turned to more organic props for their erotic adventures – bodily fluids. Not for the faint hearted, Flungdung tackles the fetish known as scatophilia and why it’s misunderstood by so many.

Prompt: Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie, Sunday Writing Prompt, #226 – What’s In A Name?

Scribblings by Sarah

Copy-write

Draughts of wind wheeze through the white space in my mind, as I struggle to compose a draft.

Writer’s block is a rite! Whether it’s right or wrong.

Find me an idea; a wisp even. Yes, there it is. I follow the thread. See where it leads and am about to hit ‘publish’ when, I realise I could be fined!

The sum of it is, that it’s already been done by someone else!

By Sarah @2017

Prompt: Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie, Saturday Mix, Double Take – 28 October 2017, Homophone sets: draft/draught and find/fined

Scribblings by Sarah, Stories by Sarah

Knock On Wood

I emerged from the artificial cocoon of the Sunshine Plaza in Maroochydore and straight away, noticed the sun was gone and it had started to drizzle. Also, I had no umbrella.

Now I know, getting stuck in the middle of a downpour is not everyone’s cup of tea, but I had two reasons for deciding to walk out into that rain. One, I needed the exercise, and climbing up the hill to my accommodation would do the trick; and two, I just needed to FEEL something again. I’d been numb ever since the break up and stumbling through every day as though my life was no more than a dream. That was the reason I’d chosen to holiday here on my own. I wanted to discover my ‘spark’ again.

Despite the overcast skies, the late March day was warm. As I began the 2km trek to the hostel, the rain tumbled from the low grey clouds. Each drop that fell on my skin was cool, silky and invigorating; igniting my senses and tickling my pores. I tilted my head back, closed my eyes and allowed the spray to sprinkle over my face. I felt like a kid again.

Smiling, for the first time in months, I subconsciously picked up my pace and started a half stroll-half skipping move, and began to hum. I knew I probably looked like a crazy, drowned rat, but I felt alive! A bud of hope began to swell in my chest – maybe everything would be ok after all.

I stepped over a puddle, lifted my head, and wiped my sticky hair out of my eyes. I heard footsteps pounding the pavement and they were moving my way. Another person who liked singing and walking in the rain! I said to myself gleefully. My lips started to form a greeting when the words froze on my tongue. My face fell and my stomach plummeted through the cold cracks of the pavement.

It couldn’t be! I thought, as an all too familiar figure ran towards me.

But it was. Of course it was.

He had always been fanatical about keeping trim, and a little rain had never stopped him before. I wondered what the chances were, that out of all the holiday destinations in Australia, out of the twelve months of the year, out of the thirty-one days in the month, out of the 24 hours in the day, and out of the 60 minutes leading up this exact moment, that we would cross paths? Surely one in a mill…or even less!

He strode past me as though I were nothing. His face as scornful as a king mocking his lowliest servant.

They say love is blind and I wish that were true. For then, I would never have known it was he who swiped my blossoming hope and crushed it in the dirt.

I knock on wood I will never see him again.


By Sarah ©2017

Image credit reza shayestehpour via Unsplash

Prompt: The Sunday Whirl, Wordle #322
Words: knock, know, middle, hill, king, trim, blind, mill, two, drizzle, sticky, dream

Scribblings by Sarah

Passing Trains


Image credit Andre Benz via Unsplash

Life is like a train ride.

We pass each other on our set tracks, intent on our destination.

Some of us make it to the station; while others get derailed along the way.

By Sarah ©2017



Prompt: Only 100 Words, Three Line Tales – Week 90

Scribblings by Sarah

Jumping Ship

Author’s note: A more cynical take on the prompt words for my second contribution for the Wordle this week… 😉

Overwhelmed by a world teeming with pretense, I am challenged to keep up with so many ‘individuals’. In this dearth of light, I take the easiest possible route to jump ship.  Ambivalence is my drug, and I take it in bulk. Shock; horror.

By Sarah ©2017

Prompt: The Sunday Whirl, Wordle 322
Words: route, dearth, light, possible, bulk, individual, pretense, drug, jump, challenge, shock, teeming

Scribblings by Sarah

Drug Of Choice

As I trudge the well-worn route, there is a dearth of light as we briefly pass under the bulk of a huge granite boulder. It has been a challenging hike so far; the constant incline gradually wearing me down. 

I focus on regulating my breathing and carefully place my feet on the footholds of the individual rocks. With a shock, I realise we have reached the summit. 

I jump up onto the 360o viewing platform and let the stress melt away. There is no noise except for the eerie sound of the wind sliding between granite and trees, and the occasional raven cawing. I close my eyes and breathe. My senses are teeming with the bracing mountain air and smell of the bush. I love it up here. I’m on ‘top of the world’. 

As the vast expanse of the Australian Alps stretch out before me, I realise I cannot keep up the pretense with my husband anymore. I turn to him; smile and say, “It is entirely possible, that bushwalking has become my drug too.”

By Sarah ©2017



Author’s note: The Horn, at Mount Buffalo, has sweeping 360 degree views of the Australian Alps and plateaus. It is an exhilarating sensation to swivel and view the magnificent Mount Buffalo National Park spread out before you.

Prompt: The Sunday Whirl, Wordle 321
Words: route, dearth, light, possible, bulk, individual, pretense, drug, jump, challenge, shock, teeming

Scribblings by Sarah

Flapdoodle 

I am an Abstract Evil Barbie. So please Stop Calling Me Frank and give me The Pineapples from the Dawn of Time. 

Take them to the Bimbo Toolshed and store them with my GoGo Penguins and Loudmouthkitten. Don’t get all Kissyfoot about it or I’ll serve you to the Devil with Cheese! 

Now leave me in peace to complete my Reign of Frogs. And close the Squirrel Nut Zippers behind you!

By Sarah ©2017

Image credit Pixabay

Prompt: Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie, Sunday Writing Prompt, #224 – Name That Tune
Task: YES – these are real.group.band.names. REAL.Anyhow, there are 10 selections. Pick a few, one or two – and create something, anything, maybe 3? Let yourself just have a ball with these. Create whatever – short story, flash fiction, poem. Just play.

Scribblings by Sarah, Stories by Sarah

Quagmire


Image credit Bryan Minear via Unsplash

She never saw the quicksand until it was too late, and now she was chest-deep.

She gasped as her head was sucked under – reaching out her hand, desperately hoping for someone to see her.

And as her fingertips slid under the slippery muck it only took a few seconds before the pond stilled and no trace of her could be seen at all.

By Sarah ©2017

Prompt: Only 100 Words, Three Line Tales – Week 87

Month Of Mini Writing Challenges 2017, Scribblings by Sarah

Fooey Pooey

As I walk my two pooches, I pop in some earbuds and switch on my iPod hoping for something motivating. It randomly selects ‘Foo Fighters’ – excellent choice! I listen to the gravelly voice of Dave Grohl and find it ironic, as I bend down to pick up the steaming heap, that he can be a Foo Fighter, while I am being a Poo Fighter.

By Sarah ©2017

Prompt: Sammi Cox, A Month Of Mini Writing Challenges, Day 29
Task: Pick the name of one of your favourite bands / groups / artists. Use that as your inspiration to write a story in 50 words.

Month Of Mini Writing Challenges 2017, Scribblings by Sarah, Stories by Sarah

The Castle

There once was a castle in the middle of a field. It loved being the centre of attention. The grass bowed to it in the breeze, and travellers were drawn to it, like a beacon. For many years it was so.

But slowly, a town began to spring up around the castle and the field disappeared. At first, the castle was glad for the company, but in time, the town became a city and the castle was swallowed up by the busy-ness around it. Sometimes, it would still catch a glimpse of travellers’ eyes, but now they hurried past in their vehicles. The castle felt sad that in the midst of such hustle, it could feel so lonely.

By Sarah ©2017



Prompt: Bikurgurl, 100 Word Wednesday, Week 38; and also Sammi Cox, A Month Of Mini Writing Challenges, Day 28
Task: Write a story in less than 100 words that opens with, “There once was a castle…”

Month Of Mini Writing Challenges 2017, Scribblings by Sarah, Stories by Sarah

One Job

Author’s note: Sometimes my writing is based on my real life experiences. This is one of those stories and is an actual account of a costume I was responsible for, whilst working at an exclusive all girls college a few years ago. 

Oh, how I wish it were fiction…

The girls usually looked like seraphic supplicants, in their polished shoes, ecru stockings, petticoats and navy blue tunics. My job on the dramatic arts team, was to source a neutral, yet eye-catching costume for the production. I didn’t want to squander the funds, and bent over backwards to find a freely-licenced image and reasonably priced t-shirt manufacturer.

The free image and design on the front of the shirts – chosen due to the ‘caring for the environment’ theme of the production…
As I unpacked the boxes, I realised with alarm, the disastrous outcome of my work.
(However it did tickle the amusement of at least one stranger in the crowd, as 150 female students took their final bow, I could hear his guffaws from backstage…)

The unfortunate outcome once the shirt is worn. Especially by someone with breasts!
I had ONE job

By Sarah ©2017

* supplicant (noun) – A supplicant is a person who prays to God or respectfully asks an important person to help them or to give them something that they want very much.

^ seraphic (adjective) – characteristic of or resembling a seraph or seraphim|seraphim:an angelic being, regarded in traditional Christian angelology as belonging to the highest order of the ninefold celestial hierarchy, associated with light, ardor, and purity.

^^ ecru (adjective) – the light beige color of unbleached linen

Prompt: Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie, Wordle #173;

and also Sammi Cox, A Month Of Mini Writing Challenges, Day 25
Task: Write a story in 75 words or less about an encounter with a stranger.


Month Of Mini Writing Challenges 2017, Scribblings by Sarah

Rainbow Falls


Image credit By Sarah ©2017;  Rainbow Falls, Big Island, HI

It was a rainy day and my sisters and I had decided to go on an expedition to explore Hilo, HI. We saw a sign declaring ‘Rainbow Falls’ and discovered this beautiful oasis; cascading and emerging out of the rainforest. Unfortunately though, no sunshine equals no rainbows. Maybe next time.


By Sarah ©2017


What we’ll be hoping for next visit…

Image credit Viator


Prompt: Sammi Cox, A Month Of Mini Writing Challenges, Day 22
Task: Write a 50 word story that includes the words expedition, rainforest, discovery.