Unbowed

Photo: Khamkéo on Unsplash

 

She squared her shoulders

To the wind

Words spinning past

Her ears,

And stuck her chin

Out

To the freeze,

Refusing to

Bow

Or flinch.

“So fierce,” he chuckled,

Unamused.

Survivor, she thought,

Of your abuse.

 

 

For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt: Fierce in 36 words

 

 

The Thing To Make All Things

nathan-dumlao-TMU6dl6La9k-unsplash

(Photo: Nathan Dumlao on Unsplash)

 

It was going to be the thing

To make all things

Everything that they were meant

To be.

A remedy

For all the wants

And dreams.

“Ah, but you will surely bungle it,”

His mother said.

And crushed his dream

Instead.

 

 

 

For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt of: Bungle in 41 words

 

Fevered

daniela-paola-alchapar-6YpI5Hf5siI-unsplash

(Photo: Daniela Paola Alchapar on Unsplash)

 

They took the temperature

Of the crowd,

And realized they could

Twist skeins of truth into

Great blobs of knotted lies,

Then sell

As remedy

To now a fevered mob,

A distorted gospel

Bloated with melodramatic

Sighs.

 

 

 

For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt of: Temperature in 37 words

 

Fence

 

They built their house on the other side of the fence.

The far end of the bay.

To stay away.

Others aren’t like us, they’d say.

We’re better.

People don’t understand that

They’re nothing like us.

They built their house on the other side

Of the fence.

Taught their kids to hate

The Others

For not being

Like them.

For being

Less worthy.

Less than.

They build their house on the other side of

The fence.

The town gawked

First

Then shrugged

Then came to believe

That indeed

They were different,

Even dangerous

On the other side of

The fence.

 

 

 

For Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers

Photo prompt © Rowena Curtin

 

 

Not a Zero-Sum

jose-a-thompson-VeeZz9sUaic-unsplash

(Photo: Jose A.Thompson on Unsplash)

 

Heartbreak is not a zero-sum game.

Pain is an and/and.

Destroying another is not a condition

Or proof

Or sign.

Being right or being wronged is not exclusive.

To anyone.

 

I will condemn

What should never

Be done.

 

I will not hate a People.

I will not celebrate harm.

I will not justify terrorism,

No matter the desired outcome,

Nor the hurting of children

In ‘payment’ for what someone has done.

 

I cannot see a space where rape or massacre,

Are ever, ever, a moral ground.

 

Heartbreak is not a zero-sum game.

Inflicted pain is not a battle won.

‘Collateral’ is not a term,

For anyone.

Babies aren’t worth less,

In another’s arms.

 

In The Eye

paul-zoetemeijer-AtxeOe04PQ8-unsplash

(Photo: Paul Zoetemeijer on Unsplash)

 

They were drawn in, unsuspecting,

By tales of glory finally

Being restored,

From a manufactured time of

Old.

Then kept in even when doubting

To go on,

Stuck, as it were, in

The eye of a hate filled

Maelstrom.

Spun, they were,

In webs of lies.

To leave they would

Need to give up

Pretended lives.

 

 

 

For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt: Maelstrom in 56 words

 

A Slivered Thing

beth-hope-RdPyf-yUz30-unsplash

(Photo: Beth Hope on Unsplash)

 

She became an essence.

A sliver

Of her dreams.

Nothing near the child

She’d been, who played

A fairy’s magic theme,

With arms a fledgling’s

Widespread

Wings.

Life tossed her

From the nest.

Unhinged.

She a feather now.

A mere sliver

Of a being.

 

 

 

 

For the dVerse Quadrille challenge of: Sliver

 

For A Good Cause

angiola-harry-5z1a_EsYs40-unsplash

(Photo: Angiola Harry on Unsplash)

 

It did not matter that

The evidence was there for all

To see.

The crumbs.

The chocolate stains.

The broken shards of Nana’s cookie

Jar with

That crack from when Pawpaw drank

Too much and thought he was a

Knife thrower

But missed

The block.

It didn’t matter she was

Caught.

The child was

Unrepentant.

“Cookies are for eatin’, Nana.

No good letting them go stale

In that

Pot!”

 

 

 

For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt of: Unrepentant in 69 words