Words dribble out of my fingers
Raw unfiltered fragments of imagination
Incandescent with flashes of brilliance
Though often followed by long droughts of darkness
Engulfing everything in shades of mediocrity
Write (an acrostic poem)
Tag Archives: darkness
Flare (an acrostic poem)
Flames leapt from the cylinder illuminating the darkness
Leaving Charlene blinded as she stood still among the dancing white flakes
All she could think about in that moment was the story of the little match girl
Realizing that she was going to reprise the main lead role unless there was a Christmas miracle
Every year after, Charlene would leave out a hot toddy and peanut butter cookies because… well they were his favorite
Hope (an acrostic poem)
How can you open your eyes every morning
Only to find so much darkness around you
Pushing you further into despair
Evict those thoughts since you can create light and let it shine
Shade (an acrostic poem)
So everyone turned to Clarice after Bob’s anonymous claim of infidelity
His smug smile staining the words even more
As Clarice’s spirit dimmed further under her friends’ looks of surprise and horror
Didn’t they understand the darkness she lived in?
Everyone should have a chance of finding a bit of sunlight, shouldn’t they?
Image: sites.psu.edu/shadelab/wp-content/uploads/sites/19089/2014/10/SHADE-logo-700px.jpg
Hole (an acrostic poem)
Her absence left his heart bleeding
Obviously this was a mortal wound
Leaching what little joy he had left into the darkness
Even as the rest of the world didn’t notice
Image: citedatthecrossroads.net/chst404/files/2012/04/Unknown.jpeg
Narrow (an acrostic poem)
Neal felt the walls come closer together the farther underground he went
As they constricted his movement, his breathing became more rapid
Restricting his vision to a narrow strip of darkness in front of him
Raspy sounds escaped his mouth as his breath became shallow
Obstinately he pushed on as his vision began to gray out
Wiggling free he took a deep breath and felt the freedom to the bottom of his lungs
Image: cumberlandcaverns.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/11/Cumberland-Caverns-Caving.jpg
Light (an acrostic poem)
Love came down as a baby
Igniting a beacon in the night
Giving hope to those in the darkness
Hope to those that had lost it
That all could find their way back home
Image: christpresboise.org/wp-content/uploads/2018/12/Light-in-the-Darkness-300×200.jpg
Reborn (a 200 word start)
Her world was pitch black darkness. Actually, it was darkness and water, but after not breathing for so long she didn’t really notice the wetness. She didn’t have a concept of time, but she did know her chains hand rusted and broken a while back.
She felt around the floor of her prison and found a large stone. She picked a spot she thought was the same as last time and began hammering. It might take millennia to get through, but she had that and more. Still, she hoped she had picked the right direction. She didn’t relish chipping her way through Mount Torlock.
That’s when she heard a muffled noise to her right. She shifted her attention and started to hammer there. She had been pointing in the wrong direction. How long had she been off course?
Suddenly there was an explosion of sound. Light poured into her prison as the water poured out. She shoved herself out of the hole, reborn again into this world, and this time she would do the swatting. Before any swatting could occur, though, she retched up the water in her lungs and stomach next to her. Not the start she had imagined…
Image: polytec.com.au/img/products/960-960/pitch-black.jpg
Life Burns (a 100 word story)
He poked at the fire, trying to make it brighter to push back the overwhelming darkness. Sparks danced into the air, but his feeble attempts failed to make that part of the world any more luminous. Pissed off he unzipped and proceeded to urinate on the flames, drowning them and allowing the darkness to flood into the space.
He laughed as it so epitomized how his life treated him.
He decided to wander back to his cabin. Being fire blinded, he tripped on a branch, falling flat on his face. “Nope, that’s my life,” he mumbled in the fallen leaves.
Image: miquon.org/wp-content/uploads/2018/09/nighttime-campfire_e1vx-fat__F0000.png
In the Beginning (a 100 word story)
The darkness grabbed onto his words and crumpled them into tight rejected wads of failure. He typed with such a frenzy to keep ahead of the monster, but it was faster than his imagination, consuming all his ideas and dreams. It then had the nerve to regurgitate its partially digested remains onto the page.
He tried to rearrange the mess into something that hinted at his intentions, but he was not a forensic investigator. The work seemed dead. And to think he thought he was a writer.
He consoled himself. “Well, it’s a start.” He saved his work and shut down.
Image: 2.bp.blogspot.com/-c6XmTrhJMgA/UgkczT8J3wI/AAAAAAAABm8/OAYru5V79Xc/s200/130812-jumble.jpg
