that’s entertainment?

08 Apr 2024 34 Comments

by lynn__ in prosery Tags: , , , ,

Angling Agent: I can help you get your big break if you’re ready to deal.

Undiscovered Diva: Ok, yeah. I could use a break so just tell me what I need to do.

Agent: Your songs are too happy…you gotta write something darker, create an edgier voice, if you know what I mean.

Diva: But I think music should lift people up…that’s what it does for me.

Agent: That’s too predictable. You need to push the envelope with revealing costumes too.

Diva: I want to sell my music, not my body and soul!

Agent: Look, if you impress the right people, they’ll give you a million dollar record contract!

Diva: Do they even produce records any more? I just want to make my music.

Agent: What does it matter, that? The stars we see are already dead…and dead stars still burn.

____________

Prosery prompt with Dora at dVerse. Write 144 words and include this line from poet Amy Woolard: “What does it matter that the stars we see are already dead.“

terminal

11 Mar 2024 25 Comments

by lynn__ in prosery Tags: , , ,

She hadn’t visited for a whole week and felt a little guilty. She was his only daughter and had moved him to be closer to her. The staff at the memory care unit were attentive and Dad seemed well-adjusted to the move. He was eating better than before and sometimes when she came, they could have an actual conversation.

When she arrived that afternoon, he was sitting in a straight chair at the dining room table, perusing the local newspaper. “Hi Dad! How are you?!” she greeted, a bit too cheerily. He startled and stared at her with a troubled expression.

“What are you reading?” she queried in a softer voice.

“The obituaries…didn’t see my name yet,” he responded dryly.

She hid her smile and hesitantly asked, “Anybody we know?”

“I didn’t recognize all of the names swallowed up by the cold…”

_________________

A 144-word prosery prompt by Bjorn at dVerse Poets, including a line by Swedish poet laureate, Tomas Tranströmer (the final line of my prosery).

blind date

11 Sep 2023 28 Comments

by lynn__ in prosery Tags: , , , ,

Her best friend set Bella up to meet her cousin, Jude, for a date. “He’s very good-looking and a real charmer. In fact, if he wasn’t my cousin, I’d want to go out with him myself!”

“OOOhh, I can’t believe it, I’m finally going to meet him! What should I wear? How will I do my hair? Where do we meet?” Bella bubbled over with anticipation. She desperately wanted to impress this guy.

“I suggest a short skirt and hair down, softly curled. He will be waiting for you in the park, on a bench near the fountain. I’ll drop you off and you can call me later.”

That day, Bella walked up to him and said, breathlessly, “Hey, Jude! To be pretty for you I have dropped two seeds of turnsole in the dark of both eyes. Now I am truly blind.”

Prosery for dVerse prompt must be 144 words and include this line from Isabel Duarte-Gray’s poem, Garden: “To be pretty for you I have dropped two seeds of turnsole in the dark of both eyes.”

evolution of camping

22 Jul 2023 13 Comments

by lynn__ in prosery Tags: , , , ,

first camping trip in pickup with topper
to high school reunion via the black hills
first son is three; he rolls off mattress (on
plywood across back of pickup) onto us!

add a brother and real pop-up camper
on back of brand new pickup (hers!)
fold table down for two boys to sleep…
pack ice and head through death valley

four years later, we pack three sons in
now crowded pop-up (one rolls on floor)
youngest in overalls and conductor’s hat
to ride durango/silverton narrow gauge train.

by the time fourth son arrives, add tent
and stay closer to home; we drive across
nebraska to live history of fort niobrara…
coyotes call and tenters’ mom lies awake.

sell pop-up; buy small trailer, another tent,
and more camping gear for east coast trip with
all five sons, ages 15 to 15 months; visit nation’s
capitol where one son’s lost & found in rotunda.

as sons leave home, no need for two tents;
with grandma’s trust money for Christmas,
two middle-aged campers find fully-equipped
fifth-wheel trailer and now we go glamping!

messenger pigeon

28 Jul 2020 21 Comments

by lynn__ in prosery, scripture Tags: , , , , , , ,

 

He cried tears of sorrow

over creatures who rebelled

and washed the earth clean

of violence in ancient times

( humanity hasn’t changed )

faith-full Noah rode out storm

with motley-crewed menagerie

in huge hand-built (pitched

and precariously pitching) boat

until drencher rain stopped,

floodwaters began to recede

when raven embarks from ark,

on long reconnaissance mission

pumping back and forth across

expansive sea on strong wings.

days later, Noah let out a dove,

delicate creature in search of

nesting place for her young.

first flight aborted, exhausted

re-released after (weak) week

she returns with an olive branch

of peace to the human family (who

bowed) under God’s bow of promise

— aimed back at Him who would

bear our sin and rescue the world.

 

 

A prose poem linked to dVerse poets where Laura Bloomsbury encourages us to take flight!

capricious cupid

16 Mar 2020 15 Comments

by lynn__ in prosery, Uncategorized

 

Remembering crushes of puppy love and youthful dating experiences, I don’t know why I was surprised…every time love started or ended, the rest of the world faded into the background. Romantic tunnel vision of a new love found or an old love lost always claims intense focus.

The angst of the question answered by plucking daisy petals…he loves me, he loves me not, he loves me? Daydreams of mutual admiration, chance meetings, sweet conversations, drinking in their eyes, perhaps a soft kiss. Memorizing the beloved’s face while mesmerized by their smile.

The emotional wreckage of a relational break up and subsequent painful questions of why, why not, why not us? The second guessing and the blame game are all consuming. Disappointment, anger, and loneliness mingle in tears wiped on sleeves, pillows and friend’s shoulder.

Infatuation is fickle but a promise is forever.

 

Antique-Diamond-Guilloche-Enamel-Cupid-Cherub-pic-1A-2048-10.10-b8596f0a-f

Diamond brooch – Ruby Lane

 

At dVerse poets pub, Merril  challenges us to write prosery of 144 words including the line (bold) from Jane Hirshfield’s poem, “I Want to Be Surprised.”

attachment issues

17 Feb 2020 24 Comments

by lynn__ in prosery Tags: , , , , , ,

 

We were dressed, ready to leave for worship when farmer husband heard bellowing. He backed pick-up to check inside shed. A new calf had arrived but mama was upset and attacking it. “You go on to church,” he told us, taking off his good coat.

She was a first-time mother; nervous and skittish post-partum. She circled stall wild-eyed. He put cow in head gate so calf could safely nurse and drink the vital colostrum. Even after hobbling cow’s back legs so she couldn’t kick and tying her head with short rope so she couldn’t box, she wasn’t bonding with calf.

I sternly lectured cow about her important role as mother. I spoke gently to baby, petting him in view of mama. We decided to try putting them together. There are moments caught between heartbeats…mama sniffed, then licked her baby.

 

Prosery is a short story (exactly 144 words). It includes a line from another author’s poem; in this case the poem, Coda, by MacNeice. Part flash fiction but based on a real experience 🙂  Kim is hosting at dVerse Poets pub today.