Category Creative Writing

Rotten Borough – dVerse

freyathewriter 34 Comments

I want to connect with you, deep down inside

but I’m deeply disturbed by your tissue of lies,

in front of others, you’re polished and sleek –

you manage to obscure just what hides beneath.

You’ve done it before, the veneer has been fine

and your gift of the gab has played tricks with my mind.

You’ve courted, persuaded, played to my tune,

dazzled and sparkled, my energy’s consumed.

Resistance is futile, you believe in your power

whilst my boat of lost hope is bound to founder

on rocks of persuasion; as politicians stand

I can’t help but wondering – are we all damned?

IMG_1541

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This week, on dVerse Meeting the Bar, Karin has asked us to write in slant, or near rhyme, which I enjoy both reading, and writing. I’m posting early and linking up to Karin’s post later, as I will be hot-footing it to the polling station to vote in the European elections. As you can see from my poem, I do wonder at the sanity of it all, but better to vote than not at all, that’s not in question. My personal politics, other than ones I have shared before on the future of our planet are not for here, but I imagine you have a fair idea of the sorts of things I really can’t abide.

By the way, the title of my piece, ‘Rotten Borough’, is the name that was used for parliamentary boroughs or constituencies in the UK which had a very small electorate and could be used by a patron to gain undue influence in the House of Commons until the Reform Act of 1832, which disenfranchised them. For example, Old Sarum in Wiltshire had 3 house, 7 voters and 2 Members of Parliament! See Wikipedia for more examples!

Please pop over to dVerse to see how others have risen to the slant rhyme challenge – I will be hooking up and linking up later!

 

 

Mercury

freyathewriter 42 Comments

They say that we worshipped the sun once –

bared our skin and lay for hours, motionless

except to turn and baste, baste, baste

like hog-roasts rotating on spits,

English rose complexions transformed to copper.

 

They say that we feared the winter then –

covered our bodies in chemically engineered layers,

refusing to let the crisp air penetrate,

wishing the dark days away,

as if time was ours to discard

with no consequences.

 

They say all this.

The world must have been different then.

———

Inspiration

‘Snow can lift my heart in a way that sunshine never could.‘

I have waited, and you have come
Martine McDonagh

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This week, on dVerse Poetics, Mary asks us to write poetry inspired by quotations – or by a photo, or by a headline in a newspaper, or, or, or… let’s get inspired!

I have used a quotation from one of my favourite dystopian novels, ‘I have waited, and you have come’ by Martine McDonagh. I highly recommend it! My poem is set in a future where the sun is to be feared, not welcomed…

Please pop over to dVerse to see how others have risen to the challenge!

 

 

Offshore – Sunday Photo Fiction

freyathewriter 21 Comments

60-05-may-18th-2014

“Daddy.”

“Yes, Suzy.”

“What’s that out in the deep?”

“It’s The Facility.”

“And what’s The Facility?”

“You’re full of questions today, aren’t you, poppet?”

“But how am I going to learn about things if I don’t ask questions? That’s what granny tells me.”

“Your granny tells you a lot of things, but it doesn’t mean you have to believe all of them.”

“But, Da-ad!”

I envy my daughter. I wonder how long it will be before her sense of wonder is replaced with constant mistrust and fear. I sigh.

“OK. The Facility is a prison. It’s where bad people are sent, the ones who don’t respond to Treatment.”

“Treatment?”

“Like school, but instead of learning things like reading and writing, they learn how to be better behaved.”

“Oh. So the ones who don’t learn their lessons get sent out there?”

“Yes.”

An approaching ice-cream van distracts her. Time enough for her to realise that The Facility is merely a staging post. It is full of men and women forced to copulate and produce violent, bloodthirsty children, children who are trained in the art of war.

I am The Facility’s architect, may humanity forgive me. May my daughter forgive me.

 

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Here’s my latest entry into Alistair’s Sunday Photo Fiction. He supplies us with his own wonderful photos, so deserves our support! I’ve been working on my dystopian novel in progress today, and I just can’t seem to shake the dark mood, as I expect you can tell! Happy Sunday, all….

Do take part if you have time, or just pop over and read the other entries!