In fifty words or less give us a Thanksgiving poem or flash.
See submission page.
Thanksgiving
by Jeanette Cheezum
While I taste each morsel, and laugh with family and friends.
I am so thankful my ancestors braved an old creaky ship, and
rough seas to fulfill their dreams of America.
I hope I’ve made them proud.
Thanksgiving
by Sandy Patton
endless football games
mashed potatoes, buttered rolls,
turkey and stuffing,
gravy and pies stick to thighs
thank God for stretch pants
My First Thanksgiving
by Laura Zucca-Scott
I was a foreign student
Invited in a new home
I sat at the kids’ table
So hungry I could barely wait
The cold on the farm
So odd, the food so good
I was afraid of feeling that happy
Embraced by strangers’ love
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Scare us
In fifty words or less, give us your spooky tales of Halloween. Scare us. You know you want to. See submission page.
Halloween
By Jeanette Cheezum
The first year Shelly was allowed to go trick or treating alone; she became frightened at every sound. The trees looked like they were reaching for her. The clouds taunted her with large gray hips. Children passing her had large eyes and funny lips.
She told herself she could do this, but once she saw the Carey’s old house, Shelly froze. A red creature stood tall on the porch, with fire in his eyes. A very eery sound hissed all around him.
It beckoned her to come near with fingers like red spikes.
Shelly backed away preparing to run when she stumbled and fell.
The eery sounds became louder and louder. So did her heartbeat.
The red thing moved toward the porch steps. With arms pointing toward the dark gray clouds.
Stella scrambled to her feet and ran screaming down the street.
Billy Carey laughed as loud as thunder and took his position back on the front porch.
Afraid
By Laura Zucca-Scott
I am not afraid
Of your malevolent glare
Or the lonely steps in the darkest night
If you knew me you would know
That I don’t run
And I don’t blink
But the light is always on
When I try to catch some sleep
And I silently scream for the sun to rise
SCREAM QUEEN
By Sandy Patton
She lived at Ocean View Amusement Park,
and in my childhood nightmares.
A grotesque woman of mammoth proportion
made of wood, nonetheless all too real for a
child with an overactive imagination.
A clown caricature of a face painted
bright white, black eyes garishly rimmed
in blue, overdone red lips set in a perpetual,
sinister smirk.
Dressed in loud, carnival colors, she swayed
side-to-side, waving mechanically, all the while
cackling and shrieking like a wild banshee.
Ironically, this monstrous mannequin stood
at the entrance to The Tunnel Of Fun beckoning
young lovers eager for an intimate moment,
and kids ready for a new adventure,
to come aboard the small boat, to take a trip
through the dark and dank caverns of doom.
And those chilling images haunt me still,
especially on Halloween.
Four word story
by Janet Chezem Coffey Hollinger
Hillary Clinton wins election.
My House is haunted
by Mark Carey
My house is haunted. I woke-up cold, shivering. Going for coffee in the kitchen smoke swirled from my breath. The cupboard door was stuck, the knob rattled and frosted at my touch. My thermostat read 78*. From there, I saw my frozen body still in bed. My house is haunted…
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Impulses: Love, Laughter, Lies and Unique Purchases.
In fifty words or less tell us your impulses. See submission page.
Love, Laughter, Lies and Unique Purchases
By Jeanette Cheezum
A little bit of heaven lies in the Caribbean
called Labadee. Filled with foliage, and
sandy paths to its proud beaches.
Tourists flock to unwind and partake of
cookouts and cocktails. Laughs
abundant. Love displayed.
Nestled to one popular side, it displays
a wealth of local crafts, or so they
say. Prices of these treasures are meant
to be affordable, if not you can negotiate
a better price in hopes you’ll want two
or maybe three.
Tummies, hands and hearts are filled
with fond memories of a playful
day. Locals prepare for the next
group of eager customers that only
wanted to escape from the struggles
of our modern day problems.
Laughter and Chaos
By Laura Zucca-Scott
As we ran around looking at the souvenirs
Orderly chaos stunningly inebriating
We laughed so hard
Colors pouring on us
We could not stop to buy
Did not have money anyway
But we could run
Faster than our troubles
There were those who said we were not
Good enough
Or strong enough
Or, yes, even fast enough
We ran from lives of boredom
And conformity
From lives of uncaring smiles
And exclusion
So we laughed
Full of mirth
Because tomorrow
Would still come
The Colors of You
By Bobbie Troy
I bought something blue
for your eyes
something pink
for your skin
something brown
for the earth you walk
something green
to match your earrings
something yellow
for your happiness
something red
for your sexiness
but I could not find
the color of love
not in the market
not today
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Five Senses
SIGHT
By Sandy Patton
Elegantly, she sweeps in; sun-kissed skin,
barely-there shorts showcase long, tan legs.
Remarkable eyes of sea-green
turn deep emerald in anger,
flash wild as stormy skies.
I know the curve of
her cheek by heart.
Beguiling
smile leaves
me
weak.
I stare,
mesmerized
as always, by
full, pastel pink lips.
A mouth made for pleasure,
both passionate and fickle.
From whispered vows of forever
to careless lies, utter betrayal.
My ageless, timeless, divine mystery.
See, Touch, Taste and Hear.
By Jeanette Cheezum
See me, tell me, then
reach out and touch.
Sip some wine and
hear my wishes to
love forever.
Smell
By Bobbie Troy
as we held hands
and walked to the beach
your hair smelled
like the morning dew
and I wondered
if I would miss that scent
when you returned
to the east coast
and your other life
Bio
Bobbie Troy maintains her sanity and perspective on life by writing flash fiction, poetry, and original fairy tales with a 21st century twist. Her work appears online and print: Concise Delight Magazine of Short Poetry, Issue 1; Vox Poetica website and anthologies; SPARK, an art and writing project; Haiku Ramblings; Caper Literary Journal; Leaf Garden Press; the Journal of Liberal Arts and Education; Referential Magazine; Yes, Poetry; Cavalcade of Stars; The Journal of Microliterature. Her poem, Dear Diane, was nominated for a 2010 Pushcart Prize (http://www.aliceshapiro.com/thechangeinterviews.html). Her fairy-tale play, Sasha and the Tree of Sorrows, was produced in March 2011.
TOUCH
By Sandy Patton
Bold sunbeams stroke us, draw us from our room.
Velvet sand caresses winter toes,
sun’s rays touch and tease pale shoulders.
Skin-to-skin at ocean’s edge,
cold water shocks hot flesh,
shivering delight.
Silky sea breeze,
rum-laced kiss,
drunk on
love.
Sandy Patton, a Norfolk, Virginia native, now resides in Virginia Beach with husband, Charlie, and two bossy, outspoken felines. She is a member of Hampton Roads Writers, Poetry Society of Virginia, and Virginia Beach Writers, a weekly critique group. She enjoys reading at local Open MICS.
Her poetry has appeared in print in Stories from the Chapel, and in online publications such as GotPoetry.com, Voxpoetica.com, a Handful of Stones and FanStory.com . She won First Place award for Poetry at the Hampton Roads Writers Conference 2013.
Bobbi Troy…2 beautiful poems!
Yes they are.
I agree, lovely poems of the senses including the marketplace….
Thanks, for stopping by, Judith.