Elephant (an acrostic poem)

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Everything evolved to be so different as he grew older and wiser

Little things became huge, the huge things became so small

Every wrinkle in his face captured memories that witnessed a lifetime

Perhaps his reputation was that of a mild mannered servant

However he had sharp, hard tusks that had seen more than one battle

And he had the girth and stature to use them effectively

Not that most of his adversaries tried, and those that did

They usually ended up being trampled underfoot.

Chef (an acrostic poem)

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Cuisine so fine that that it demanded to be taken out for a dinner date

He showered her with flavors that were tart, sweet, salty, and spicy

Everything balanced to a perfection, a true masterpiece of culinary art

Food may be temporally empheneral, but the memories of that meal will be eternal

Smoke (an acrostic poem)

Smelling the wood burning brought it all back

Memories of singing and dancing

Of friends that became family

Knowing that the night was never going to be long enough

Eventually the fire died, but I will always have that scent

 

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Ashes to Ashes (a 100 word story)

The ashes drifted down from the sky, covering everything for miles.  Those ashes were people’s lives and memories, and he was there to stop more people’s memories from clogging the landscape.

Davis picked up his shovel and began to dig once again.  While the task was physically and mentally grueling, he kept thinking how good it would feel to wash off those memories when the job was done and the fire was contained.   But for now it was him and his shovel, and he wasn’t going to let those people down.

Memories are precious and shouldn’t go up in smoke.

 

Image: climatefeedback.org/wp-content/uploads/2018/03/Thomas-Fire-1.jpg

Place (an acrostic poem)

Putting things away, be they trinkets, memories, or even people

Leaves me feeling complete, and yet filled with an uneasy energy

As if the more compact I make my life, the more space I have to get lost in

Could it be clutter is the equivalent of comfort

Even to the point of not knowing where I am anymore?

 

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Penultimate (an acrostic poem)

Preparing for his exams was never one of Joe’s strong points

Even to the point where he would resort to trick ways to cheat

Noses are the best triggers for memories

Until you run out of scents that are pleasant in your dorm

Little did Joe know his memory cheat would soon fill the classroom

Taking everyone’s ability to do the test away

It even made the girl, Suzy, who sat next to him, vomit in her backpack

Maybe that’s why the teacher had been so pissed off

At least he had done well on the damn thing

Taking a shower he was happy overall with how it worked out

Even though he knew he had the final exam to go and his nose was ruined

 

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Alien Life

I am one of the last of my kind.  Our peaceful existence has been beset by a parasite that does not respect our ways.  They assume we are not sentient because our movements are measured in generations.  I know they have little intelligence since they think in the moment.

We develop thoughts that span generations.  Our memories are ancestral.  I can remember the beginnings of our time on the planet.  I remember the births and deaths of the stars overhead.  When one of us fall we mourn, but we know the memories are imprinted in the next generation.

The life giving sun and thirst quenching rain nourish us daily.  We reach higher and higher as we grow in height and wisdom.  This growth is our biggest strength and our greatest problem.  The tallest and straightest of us are prime candidates for the barbaric practices of the parasites.  They strip off our skin, live in our bones, and grind us into dust.  Some show love, giving us hugs, but they are few and far between.

Still I will strive to grasp the sun.  If the parasites come for me I will dedicate my spirit to the little saplings I leave behind and pray that they are allowed to grow in peace, knowing my memories will become one with the next generation of the trees.

100 Word Story #4 Deadly Memories

“Young man,” said an older gentleman holding a futuristic device of LCD screens, nobs, and buttons, “would a movie of your life be interesting?”

“Hell yeah, dude,” Jeremiah said.

The man pointed his gizmo at Jeremiah and Jeremiahs world exploded as he fell to the ground.  The electrodes that had smashed through his skull almost jerked out of his brain, but the barbs held them in.  Jeremiah looked at the man as the old man pressed buttons.  The device came to life, and Jeremiah could hear his memories begin to play on the device as his eyes faded to black.