my dandelion life!

Prosery: Breathing and Moons

Tonight at #dversepoetspub Merrill D Smith we have been prompted to write a 144 word prosery based on a given line from a poem. tonight’s line is from James Masao Mitsui’s poem “spring poem for the sake of breathing. written after a walk to Foste Island.” the line being “an early moon is just a piece of change in the softening sky!”

My dandelion life.

(a flash fiction)

The yellow field of dandelions waved in unison with her first orgasm. After having left her fathers corrupt church of evangelists. A christen cult stealing from the naive. Her old life having stagnated under his schoolings.

Her father the local cult leader started every sermon with “An early moon is just a piece of change, in the softening sky of gods heaven!”. Died at the hands of his last lover’s husband.

Under the strawberry moon of the first spring since her release from tyranny. Love finally found her in both physical and emotional forms. Dandelions will forever stand for this the morning of the rest of her life. Aged forty-five she said goodbye to her father’s manipulation and hello to the pleasure of living in a free and easy hippy commune. Love for herself and mother earth now all she felt. No more control?

oh Ferrets!

Today at #dversepoetspub Sarah is talking about animals who have not been verbed..

Here is one I posted on the 27th August 2020. some of you have already seen this one.

boxferreting

I had written another one to go with it, but cannot not find it on the blog. here is that one, i have added a few lines ( a rarity for me to do)

Boxferret prayer

Here I kneel,

Being badgered into,

Giving praise,

To the great and good boxferret God,

Oh, box ferret you are greatish and goodish,

Keeping the boxes from a gummy bear fate,

Here we kneel and give praise,

To the great and goodish boxferret god.

Here we kneel,

hog tired at days end,

to play,

Boxferret Jenga,

At the mouth of the Dark aisle,,

Now you call for the sacrifice,

Of cardboard and paper,

To the box filling fudger,

Of this warehouse cave.

Oh, great and goodish Boxferret,

Protect us from the dust viper,

Beware the viper,

His venom of dust,

That Descends into our lungs,

Beware the dust viper,

When He leaves his mark of lust,

In the dust behind him,

Beware the dust viper,

Where He lives in what he loves,

The dead skin of his victims,

that makes his dust venom.

Thank you oh great and goodish Boxferret,

For your protection from the dust viper.

So here take, this poem as sacrifice,

Leaving behind peace,

For the believers in the,

Boxferret god.

Fed parrot fashion this nonsense,

That they must follow the weaseler, follow the weaseler,

follow the weaseler.

But why when he is nothing but a worm?

1st draft ©20/10/2020rogleach

2nd draft (c) 30/05/2023

PEPPER #QUADRILLE

Quadrille:Pass the pepper please!

thanks #dversepoets pub for another stonkingly hot #quadrille prompt.

PEPPER

#Quadrille, #pepper. #shareandcare.

Pepper shares everything,

Taught to share,

Taught not to stare.

Pepper bullied into,

Sharing too much,

Sharing her inner self.

Pepper shares everything,

Taught to give,

Taught not to care.

Pepper bullied into,

Never saying NO,

Never saying how much.

Pepper don’t share yourself.

this was inspired by the song Give it Away by the Red Hot Chilli Peppers and the misheard lyrics I heard when the song first appeared.

strawberry patch

tonight Frank is hosting at #dversepoetspub and he has asked us to write a haibun about memory

https://dversepoets.com/2023/05/22/haibun-monday-5-22-23-memory/

Strawberry patch.

The strawberry patch of my younger years held joy. Those little white flowers low to the ground as it warms up in May. A prelude to bowlfuls of juicy red fruit for topping breakfast cereal. For having smothered in ice cream after school. Memory of the hot, hot summer of 1976.

Before school emptying watering cans around fruit and veg plants. After school Mum throwing empty bowls at me, my siblings and childhood friends, fill these up from the patch. Me on strawberries, siblings on veg and friends on anything ready.

Strawberries picked,

Fingers sticky, bellies full,

Plenty left for jam.

midnight shift

#tiki’sguild. 27^th may 2023.

Midnight at the,

makers of boing,

quiet rumble,

of extrusion.

The winding machines,

Whisper to the night,

Twang, twang, twang,

As they drop,

Into barrels.

Rattle, rattle, rattle,

Of the trollies,

Moving materials,

From extrusion,

Winder wrapping to

Tight.

Midnight shift,

at the leapfrog

factory tedious,

dull, monotonous.

Midnight in spring manufacturing,

A mind killing exercise,

Suitable for automatons.