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Peter Poked a Pumpkin
Written for another purpose I suppose this fits here as well as anywhere
else. Supposedly reading words with P, F, C and M is supposed to help
those who stutter. See Stuttering with the
PoetPatriot.
Peter Poked a Pumpkin
Peter poked a purple pumpkin failing to perceive the pumpkin poked
was putrefied. Peter was petrified by the perceived pungency of the
putrefied purple pumpkin. Peter puked, picking up the putrid purple
pumpkin. Peter's paled complexion presented Peter's exasperation over
the permeation of the pool of puke mixed with the pummeled purple putrid
pumpkin. The philosophical plot is not a parable nor to portray reality,
but to plainly and purely present the praxis portrait of Peter poking a
putrid purple pumpkin.
© 01-14-2017 Roger W Hancock www.PoetPatriot.com
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Imagination is a tool of fiction, our language the
medium, education is my brush and paint. Whether the story to be of
glory, predatory or just plain gory, I imagine, painting with words in
the medium of our language to spark your imagination.
I pull out the keyboard from under the mess topped desk to begin again
to record continued imaginations. Characters defined, location placed
building up the story to form the plot.
Rereading last passages still showing on dual monitor screens, I ponder.
Perhaps I may tweak a phrase or rephrase a sentence to make a more
perfect story line.
In the writing, the ongoing editing, I contemplate alternative twists
that may build the plot to satisfy or to deny a reader’s expectations.
I sit back to relax and stretch for a moment of thoughtless quiet.
The plot, as they say, “thickens.” The expectation climbs as I achieve a
climax of fulfillment or disappointment.
Am I satisfied?
I ask myself, “Is it done?”
© 01-05-2017 Roger W Hancock www.PoetPatriot.com
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Confused in a concoction of mixed emotions, considering methods to effect the execution, a sane branch of reality sprouts forth. Grabbing on for dear life, Joel pulls his mind back from the depth of depression's abyss to the reality of sanity.
© 01-04-2017 Roger W Hancock www.PoetPatriot.com
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Too Busy
Too busy to sit to continue writing the short story that currently is
short of an ending, he is distracted. He is busy in the distraction of
his story flashing by, the guilt begins to swell as he realizes his baby
has become a teenager.
© 12-31-2016 Roger W Hancock www.PoetPatriot.com
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At First Sight
Lost in the allure of her beauty, the stars spin and roses pale. As I
approach to inquire of coffee together, I catch a twinkle from her
sparkling wedding ring.
© 12-31-2016 Roger W Hancock www.PoetPatriot.com
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The Smile
One final hug then lay her down; I tuck the
blanket in around Mie's neck, then with a kiss on her pale cheek, a weak
smile comes across her lips just before she fades to death.
© 12-14-2016 Roger W Hancock www.PoetPatriot.com
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The Glistening
Sun breaking through storm clouds glistening against
the girders of the bridge below, having just collapsed into the ravine.
© 12-04-2016 Roger W Hancock www.PoetPatriot.com
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In the Midst
In the midst of loving passion, the silky
touch of beauty went clammy as her body fades to death.
© 11-28-2016 Roger W Hancock www.PoetPatriot.com
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Ending
Fingers poised, tears emerge, last lines come to mind; ending a writer's affair.
© 10-07-2016 Roger W Hancock www.PoetPatriot.com
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The End
His novel ended sitting back to relax, contemplating
the plot, a stealth intruder ends his story.
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| GOTHIC FLASH FICTION |
| Coming when I get time to copy from the
book they were published in. |
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Compilation Copyright © 2016,
2017 Roger W Hancock |
