Friday Flash Fiction

Redefining Borders, by Bruce Levine

15/11/2019

Dedicated to those
Who believe their own hyperbole
Rounding the edges with sandpaper
Emery boards of diamond dust
Redefining borders
Ignoring innate apprehensions of history
For the sake of their own place
In the sand-drifts of destiny
As Armageddon draws a line
Encampments of the disenfranchised
Awaiting the proximity of fate
Riding on the hyperbole of others

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Viewing Bonfire Night from my Bedroom, by Guy Fletcher

15/11/2019

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The spectacle was like a circle
of multicoloured expanding stars
whilst the silent established ones
and half-moon watched impassively
from the terrifying blackness of space
then I pictured myself as a young boy
when this scene filled me with such awe and joy.

I briefly drifted to sleep despite the noise
dreaming of the Russian Front
and screeching Stalin Organs bringing death.
All over the city the heavens shined
transient as raindrops on a river.
It became quieter than hours before,
the moon and stars...ruling the sky once more.

(Image: Fine Art America, adapted)

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Mother's Touch, by Ana Marie Dollano

15/11/2019

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Though once pampered, now
they’ve withered, misshapen from years of toil,
her hands—so warm in mine.

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You Smiled at My Note, by Yusriy Charles

15/11/2019

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I'm happiest when I am with you
For I do not need to lie
In the form of polite conversation
In the form of an oh-so friendly smile
Inside you see, is a dullness
No addiction nor company can quench
Distractions and numbness are key
believe me, I'm happiest when I'm with you
dear friend.

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The Lonely Centenarian, by Carole Novak

9/11/2019

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She feeds off her sorrow.
It was bred in her before you were born.
Her grief surrounds her like a shawl.
Your embrace does nothing to dispel her pain.
Long-ago gifted items remain untouched in her drawers.
Her stained and torn attire is emblematic of her identify.
She feels only anger, resentment and self-pity.
Who is to blame?

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I Am Home, by Ana Marie Dollano

8/11/2019

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I wake in joyful song of
prayer
whenever I gaze at the wide
blue yonder
in appreciation and gratitude
when
I recall gentle days of
summer.

The glory of sunshine
upon my face
a breath of wind whis’pring
my name
chirping of crickets in a
frenzy.
O splendours of creation, you continue
to surprise me!

The balmy days of summer
echo souvenirs of time past
of familiar voices laughing
and chanting, “It’s my turn, it’s my turn!”
And thoughts of Grandmother, her
touch, so comforting.
Memories as these are forever
engraved in my heart.

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Frosty Leaves, by Guy Fletcher

4/11/2019

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The fallen gold leaves
have turned white and shine with stars,
autumn at its best.

The sun has returned
after days of dreary rain,
sky a Dali blue

and more flicker down
ripped away by a cool breeze
to chase one another.

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For Archer, by Mary Wallace

2/11/2019

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Where lies the greatest jewel on earth
In oceans, underground
In forest glades, on mountains high
Where can this jewel be found

Should I search then in desert lands
Deep down the silvered creek
In strongholds, banks, on princely crowns
To find the jewel I seek

There is no need to search the world
Through lands both damp or dry
The brightest jewel in all the earth
Is in my Archer’s eye.

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Scottish Guy, by Gordon Lawrie

1/11/2019

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I was dreamin' of the past
And my heart was beating fast
I began to lose control
I began to lose control

I didn't mean to hurt you
I'm sorry if I made you cry
I didn't want to leave the EU
But I'm just a Scottish guy

I was feeling insecure
You might not love me anymore
I was boiling up inside
I was boiling up inside

I didn't mean to hurt you
I'm sorry if I made you cry
I didn't want to leave the EU
But I'm just a Scottish guy

I was trying to catch your eyes
Thought that you was trying to hide
You didn't care about my pain
You didn't care about my pain

I didn't mean to hurt you
I'm sorry if I made you cry
I didn't want to leave the EU
But I'm just a Scottish guy

(With thanks to this guy...)

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Sneezes and Wheezes, by Bruce Levine

1/11/2019

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An ordinary cold is a hateful thing
With sneezes and wheezes and coughing that bring
Tremulous moments while holding one’s breath
Trying to stave off once more a feeling of death.

The mornings of glory no longer abound
The nights filled with snoring, a ghastly old sound.
With days hard to get through and work gone askew
While others are playing or getting their due.

No more feeling happy, no more feeling sad
There’s only the feeling of just feeling bad
And hope of recov’ry that once seemed so near
Is lost like a mem’ry and moments of fear.

As days filled with sneezing and wheezing move on
And glimmers of hope that this cold will be gone
For sooner or later there must be a day
When the ordinary cold has outlived its stay.

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The Last Message, by Guy Fletcher

1/11/2019

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Like animals they were crammed
into a lorry which criss-crossed
the continent. They paid vast sums
to human traffickers who are surely damned.
the image of a young woman plays in my mind:
pretty, Vietnamese with red lipstick
bringing the real horror to my soul,
she left her dear ones behind

her last message causing tears in my eyes
saying she was dying and stating her love
to her family thousands of miles away,
I can't imagine the awful cries.
the door was opened but far too late,
39 sufficated bodies met the gaze
of those who witnessed the sickening scene,
nobody should ever suffer such a fate.

they were trapped inside a mobile tomb
and although the world mourns now
you can be certain it will soon forget
as we hear other tales of doom.
but the the woman's last message haunts me,
she was told our streets were paved with gold
yet only sightless eyes stared
in a lorry full of corpses...crossing the sea.

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No Matter Where I Roam, by Ana Marie Dollano

1/11/2019

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Sunny skies and summery winds and
starlit sultry nights,
a land that boasts of coconut, mango
trees and cosy nipa huts,
But one day the rains they lashed and
ravaged with mighty forceful blows
and there amid the chaos shone a fellowship,
no matter where I roam.

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Closed Circuit, by Carole Novak

26/10/2019

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You told me we were wired the same way
No words are necessary
I questioned it for a long time
But now I know it to be true
I called you at three in the morning
My daughter was in the hospital
Four hours later we sat in the lobby
I looked into your blue-gray eyes
And I saw the connection
There were all words left unsaid
We are wired the same way

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Hypothesis, by Sandra James

25/10/2019

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Sometimes…
I wish I’d chosen
a different path
taken another road
made different choices
in my life

And yet…
those paths
those roads
those choices
led me here
to where I am
who I am

Who knows…
perhaps
I will discover why
today

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The Invisible Brook, by Guy Fletcher

25/10/2019

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On the edge of the village of Whitchurch
The brook is largely unnoticed
by busy people in this materialist world.
There is a slither of verdant grass
and on this sun-kissed autumn day
the water is a sparkling silver and flows
swiftly after the the rain as a cool breeze blows.

It lies next to a funeral home,
the creator of life by a place of death
and I stand on the quaint bridge
watching leaves race each other,
a willow tree drinking, flowers swaying,
a magical sight behind a stone wall,
an oasis in a grey urban sprawl.

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Danaë’s Perseid, by Sterling Warner

25/10/2019

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Hail, hail, hail; let me lie beneath
Zeus’s majestic, ancient canopy,
dwell in imagination’s pageantry
where I, like Danaë, behold showers of
gold, when ebon skies discharge
blazing meteors bombarding
earth from an apparent radiant,
heavens celestial point,
the constellation of Perseus.

The Perseids cloud stretches
like a bling covered house cat
stride for stride pacing the
Swift Tuttle comet, its orbit
empowered by nubile
dust mixing with debris,
forming a volatile, shimmering,
glittering mass—shooting stars
piercing the firmament.

Predawn fireflies linger too briefly;
their rising tails, crossettes and Dahlias,
dance across the blushing northern
welkin, a transitory aerial spectacle
whose strobing peonies and Saturn shells
dwindle into flickering bottle rockets,
become mere sparks against emerging dawn;
awe struck still, my night sky memories
immortalize fair Danaë’s annual golden rainfall.

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The Slippers of Lord Byron, by Guy Fletcher

18/10/2019

There exists today slippers
once owned by Byron with faded
soles born in exotic Morocco.
His boatman recalled them worn
at a house in sun-kissed Kapsalis,
this poet and lover of great renown
but no enemy weapon struck him down

for though he led an army to aid the Greeks
in their eternal fight against the Turks
fell to a fever, the leeches
unaware of the famous blood they sucked.
I picture Byron with now priceless slippers
despite a club-foot an imposing sight
staring at the stars of an Aegean night.

Perhaps, by Sandra James

18/10/2019

If you could do
anything you wanted to
what would it be?
See the world
climb a mountain
write a book
say you’re sorry
make amends
give a gift
If you could be
anything you wanted to
what would it be?
An adventurer
a listener
happier
more understanding
fitter
braver
Perhaps it’s not too late?

Serenade Me, by Ana Marie Dollano

18/10/2019

Serenade me one more time
for the moment of promise is here.
I hope for a rainbow when the sun shines
after the rain disappears.

For your words are as sweet and juicy as the fruit,
like music playing softly, is your gaze,
melodious is the rustle that lingers, haunting
as thoughts keep me anticipating.

I shall keep to our noontime tryst
neath our tree whose trunk is mighty,
steadfast against any storm and enduring as time,
its broad canopy, encompassing, as an evergreen symphony.

Agincourt, by Adrian Mcrobb

13/10/2019

They sat cross legged
The engines of the army
Fletching feathers and willow
Daring others follow
Tarring bodkins in grain
Stopped in mud
Mallet crush helmets
Guarding flanks
New men-at-arms
Two finger salute
To who dares
Leaving the poetry bare?

World Weary, by Ian Fletcher

11/10/2019

Though just sixty
his hair is white
bleached by stress
alcohol and failure.
Lugging emotional
baggage from events
long forgotten by all
but he, his memories
and life’s narratives
spool endlessly round
and round in his mind.
Thus laden he steers
a lonely course through
an unforgiving world
not sailing but sinking.

One Song, by Guy Fletcher

11/10/2019

It was an old Georgian song
and we must have murdered the words
but I left my body on Earth
experiencing a state of unbeing
more powefrul than narcotics or alcohol.
Alas, such feelings are doomed not to last long
but though it was just one beautiful song

it was enough to restore hope.
The choir is a sanctuary
from the dreck and fear of the world
and it was so fine to be there
at this particular moment in time,
then I stepped into real life once again
with dirty city streets and driving rain.

Six Very Short Poems, by Bruce Levine

4/10/2019

Empty Days

Hunger strikes with claws
Burning holes beneath the skin
As tantalizing mem’ries arise
And lightning lasts forever

Hammer-head Sharks

Forty-six minutes
Turbulent times awaken nothing
Hammer-head sharks strike without reason

Obtuse

Floating over the horizon
Candle lanterns glow in synchronicity
Caverns of emptiness awaken sympathy
Flights of fancy bring joy

Wall Street

Frogs line the avenues as Dragons breath fire
And leprechauns taunt the greedy
Playing nine-pin or bocce ball
Outnumbered by Wall Street moguls

Mozart

Succulent servings of seaweed
Over a bed of rice noodles
While Mozart plays on the radio

Beards

Five o’clock shadow
Mist on petals of flowering plants
Dragon-fly wings in green soup
Tomatoes filled with tuna fish

Winter, by Adrian McRobb

4/10/2019

Silver trees
frost rimed
frozen in time

Transience, by Guy Fletcher

4/10/2019

Over the homely hills of the Wenallt
a rainbow illuminates the crisp air,
shade retreats as if a beaten army
as the land rests for just a while
from monotonous autumn rains
but this is what makes our country so green,
I pause in the field to admire the scene

yet know the transience of beauty:
life has special moments
so you can escape the mundane.
The sun shines on golden leaves
and raindrops upon them glitter like stars
but then dark clouds come, the gods shed more tears,
like a spirit the rainbow disappears.

<<Previous

Redefining Borders, by Bruce Levine

Viewing Bonfire Night from my Bedroom, by Guy Fletcher

Mother's Touch, by Ana Marie Dollano

You Smiled at My Note, by Yusriy Charles

The Lonely Centenarian, by Carole Novak

I Am Home, by Ana Marie Dollano

Frosty Leaves, by Guy Fletcher

For Archer, by Mary Wallace

Scottish Guy, by Gordon Lawrie

Sneezes and Wheezes, by Bruce Levine

The Last Message, by Guy Fletcher

No Matter Where I Roam, by Ana Marie Dollano

Closed Circuit, by Carole Novak

Hypothesis, by Sandra James

The Invisible Brook, by Guy Fletcher

Danaë’s Perseid, by Sterling Warner

The Slippers of Lord Byron, by Guy Fletcher

Perhaps, by Sandra James

Serenade Me, by Ana Marie Dollano

Agincourt, by Adrian Mcrobb

World Weary, by Ian Fletcher

One Song, by Guy Fletcher

Six Very Short Poems, by Bruce Levine

Winter, by Adrian McRobb

Transience, by Guy Fletcher

Poetry

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