Friday Flash Fiction - Poetry

Mommy Dearest, by Sankar Chatterjee

24/9/2021

Always less expensive, a mom’s old-fashioned dress
Compared to her teenagers’ modern fancy mess.
Same story with her old wristwatch
Traveling, she prefers a bus to catch.
Same pair of shoes year after year
Outdated cell-phone attached to the ear.
She will rather enjoy food in a roadside canteen
Saving for children’s education, thus not appearing mean.
Spending money on herself not her personal trait
But children’s expensive tastes need not wait.
A mom may no longer utter “I love you,”
But that’s her hidden shield to protect you.

Uncaring women may be found everywhere
But you won’t find a single “bad mom” there.

Grand Final Friday 2021, by Michael Leach

24/9/2021

holiday in Vic
for a footy match in Perth--
some work, others play

Autumn, by Marjan Sierhuis

24/9/2021

A quick gust of wind
Autumn leaves soon carpet the ground
A kaleidoscope of colors

I Miss You, by Susan Fairfax Reid

24/9/2021

Olive,
I miss talking with you.
Boo hoo. Love, Sue

The Mystery of it All, by Kumar Vikrant

24/9/2021

Now that the flood has passed
I look back and wonder, what was the worth of it all?
Cursed by the elixir of life, I’m reminded
The tears in the raindrop, the dry skin under the sun

Yes, you were my salvation, the oasis in the desert
The words are futile, aren’t they, O dear one!
The existence marred by tragedy, the suffering of it all
Your heart, a respite in the midst of it all

The newborn babe wonders why it is here
The burden of existence, one cry at a time
The mother caresses the babe, sings a lullaby
Over the rainbow, under the sun, O my dear little one!

Make something out of your life, my dear, be an alchemist
The mother whispers her magical charm in the babe’s ear
Turn lead into gold, the suffering into the philosopher’s stone
Oh, blessed be the mystery of it all!

Equinox, by Adrian McRobb

24/9/2021

Slipping silently into the void separated from its matriarch
gliding, tumbling, and finally curled, unfolding onto wet grass
discovered by the nature ramble becomes a classroom collage
and...as fashions change, assumes the bin where, parted from paste, escapes
cartwheeling over the fence trapped by a windswept puddle
it's colour changes, as artwork fades, giving a passing woman a home theme idea
inspiration...hunkered children marvel as evaporation removes flesh
an old shuffling man, see's his mortality in it's open veins and skeletal structure
breezes blow it away, piece by faded piece heralding, the end of summer...

Breakup (Senryu), by Padmini Krishnan

24/9/2021

breakup signs
that unsmiling twitch
of his lips

couples therapy
his forced laughter
and her flooded eyes

for a moment
a spark from the subdued fire
the therapist smiles

Portrait, by Guy Fletcher

24/9/2021

From the soft grave of her bed
she stares at the grand portrait
showing a young woman in her prime:
long blonde locks and mysterious eyes
but with the confidence of youth
and at that age during momentary bliss
she never thought it would come to this.

Now, yes now, her joints ache
and loneliness fills her soul.
The portrait is bitter-sweet
enticing her to the past
when her steps were so much lighter
to places she'll never again roam
lost in the vast ocean...of the care home.

Agent of Cthulhu, by David Walby

24/9/2021

It may seem as if my mind is broken,
It may seem as if my brain is tainted,
But when it comes down to it…
I’m just an agent of Cthulhu.

We're Sorry, by Alex Blaine

17/9/2021

Sorry: good men
out of stock.
Sentenced-to-life?
Says it all.

Infant Knights, by Ivan Ristic

17/9/2021

Holding the wooden swords
With honey & milk dripping hands
Behind the plastic shields
Under their cardboard armours
From a blanket forts
And sand castles
In the saddle of Lego horses
The Infant Knights shall come
To conquer and revive
This old men's world.

The Color of Rejection (a Double Ennead), by Padmini Krishnan

17/9/2021

Is final rejection
as colorless as
the tears of the boy, abandoned by his
friends and trying to push back
tears inside his eyes?

Is it blue as the shocked
veins of the dog, kicked,
stoned by urchins, deserted in busy streets
and left to the mercy
of two-legged mammals?

Or is it salty white
like the waves crashing
on the shore, touching the unrelenting land
with gentle smoothness while
retreating empty?

Author's Note: A Double Ennead contains five lines with a syllable count of 6/5/11/6/5, (33 Syllables per stanza) 3 Stanzas each = 99 Syllables

Ode to Misty the Cat, by Catherine Evans

17/9/2021

Basking in the early sun
You greet me every morning
While I’m out sweating on a run
You laze around just yawning

Black as night, no shades of grey
You know what you’re doing
Feed me now, your green eyes say
Watching me and mewing

I love to stroke your silky fur
I love it when we cuddle
Don’t know if you’re a him or her
Not bothered by the muddle

But you’re not mine, dear pussy cat
Your home is with my neighbours
Yet I adore you, warm and fat
With all your weird behaviours

Surrounded by Stars, by Michael Leach

17/9/2021

On a surface
Between stars
In the sky
And stars
On the deep
Sea floor,
We voyage
With purpose
In a research
Vessel until
It’s time to
D
I
V
E
Down to explore unexplored shipwrecks and marine ecology.

I Just Don’t Feel Like Going Out Today, by David Berger

17/9/2021

I just don’t feel like going out today.
I think I’ll stay inside.
I won’t watch on TV any of the ceremonies or documentaries of movies about it.
Maybe my wife and I will go for a walk after midnight with our shih-tzu.
Or maybe not.
Or maybe I’ll slip out even before midnight and get us some slices.
Or maybe not.
I just don’t feel like going out today.

Bad Dog, by Daniel Aceituna

17/9/2021

I was walking along the sidewalk one day,
When I witnessed something that caused me dismay.

A few yards before me, my eyes caught a peek.
There was a seeing-eye dog taking a leak.

The leak was directed at its blind owner’s feet.
But the owner proceeded to hand out a treat.

I ran to him yelling excuse me, fine sir,
But I don’t think a treat is what he deserves.

He directed his face toward the source of my sound,
Then gave a reply with the look of a frown.

Oh, I’m not rewarding the deeds of this mutt.
I’m finding his mouth, so I can kick him in the butt.

One Man Revolution, by Swati Moheet Agrawal

17/9/2021

The halo of a new day crests over Sabarmati
The wind that brushes across your handsome face
caresses mine just a second later
You are everything I don’t like about men
and yet
I gravitate towards you
You represent to me
all the things I never had the courage to be
Integrity
Loyalty
Selflessness
Benevolence
You have inhabited darkness so long
You are the embodiment of light itself
Look at you!
You are a one-man revolution.

Three Cliffs Bay, by Guy Fletcher

17/9/2021

I alight at the small village of Penmaen
and from the cliff edge I stare
at the sheer majesty of Three Cliffs Bay
standing like pyramids in the sand
with a meandering estuary.
As a child I used to envisage
I roamed the Nile on soporific days
now I see the ghost of a boy
staring up at his kite in an azure sky
remembering how I nearly drowned
in the indifferent estuary appearing so benign.
The ocean sparkles as if with emeralds
but today I'm unable to run free
so just admire the view of cliffs and sea.

1846, by Adrian McRobb

17/9/2021

That year we sailed further North
a soulless place of sterile ice
navigating with a freezing compass
fog steaming water stole heat
mutiny just below the surface
frost rimed sails and slippery rigging
belay pins solid in their mountings
winch gear frozen solid
ropes, stone carved on deck
our furniture is all burned
the bonfire of our vanity
poison food-tins, leaden
only witness to this insanity, Innuits
our last testament a cairn letter
all died in agony or just froze
God, this is a terrible place...

Jump, by Marjan Sierhuis

17/9/2021

Cliffs entice the brave
Majestic and sparkling waterfalls
Feel the rush of adrenaline

Sleep, by Michael Leach

10/9/2021

I have sleep
in my eyes.
I have sleep
on my mind.
I need sleep
for my mind.
In my eyes,
I need sleep.

Barren Nature, by Padmini Krishnan

10/9/2021

dry summer
hot wind fuels
fire in barren branches

Ode to Age, by Sue Clayton

10/9/2021

I look in the mirror and what do I see
A road map of wrinkles, not what I used to be
Add a droopy mouth with a jowly face
I could be a character in Arsenic & Old Lace

Where did she go that girl of my youth
She grew old said the mirror and that’s the truth
But I don’t want to be old, my life to be over
I want years still to bloom like a field full of clover

Alas for me the past has flown
My children and grandchildren are all full grown
So I look back at life and try to take heart
Because I know I can never go back to the start

Honky-Tonk Freeway, by Adrian McRobb

10/9/2021

Neon strips flash purple
traffic lights signal red
no stopping this disco
until your nearly dead
shadows dance in subways
heels staccato tattoo
tall canyons of girders
a smoking barrel view

Shooting up in doorways
snow, amphetamines and ice
needles dreams receding
like a psychedelic device
drunks, hobos in the alleys
dance to the hypnotic beat
don't know what the time is
on unsteady spaced out feet...

The Cold Bath, by Guy Fletcher

10/9/2021

Oh, the candles are extinguished
and now I freeze in the cold bath
still as the near corpse I imitate.
Millais sits warm and possessed
as I repose, mouth agape and pale,
and when this painting is all put together
I pray my fame...will last forever.

But for now I desire a hot drink
and definitely some laudanum,
a release from the boredom
of lying in this wretched tub hour after hour
feeling as mad as Ophelia
just hoping this discomfort will soon cease
and I'll be the star...of a masterpiece.