Category Fear

Isolation – dVerse Poetics

freyathewriter 25 Comments

This week’s dVerse Poetics is asking us to look to the future and wax poetic on what we see there. I’m not sure if this fits the sci-fi that Bjorn would like to see, but I’m all about the dystopia, so this is what you’re getting! It’s partially inspired by the Silo series of books by Hugh Howey which I absolutely adore.

I hope you enjoy my creation – and please visit dVerse to read the other imaginings of my fellow poets!

– Isolation –

Trapped beneath the earth’s crust

We only have the myths, encased in dusty pages

Of books never read

To help us imagine what Above

Is

We forgot to communicate

To breathe, to appreciate the wonders

Of days spent outside

In fresh clean air, with people we love –

Loved

The young went first, weakened

Lungs not developed, muscles made frail

By atmosphere choked

With acid rain, fallout from fossil

Fuels

We dug deep, in souls and dirt

Racing hard, dropping the baton, running

To stand still whilst Nature

Wreaked her havoc, unleashing

Hounds

Of Hell, firestorms raging

As we closed the trapdoors above

Sealing our fate –

We don’t know when we will rise, or even

If

…Time passes so slowly here.

Rubicon – dVerse Open Link Week 122

freyathewriter 16 Comments

Here’s my latest entry into the dVerse Open Link – why not take a look at all of the other wonderful responses?

Please don’t panic – despite the tone of the poem, it isn’t a reflection of how I feel. Offline, I am writing dystopian fiction, so I was pondering how a particular set of characters might feel in this world that I have created for them. This piece came from there, nowhere else.

Let me know what you think…

*****

– Rubicon –

Render me empty,
Sackclothed and dull
Darker than ditchwater
Coated in oil, rainbow-hued surface
Hidden depths that boil,
As I blunder, lamed, from crisis to fall
Render me empty
Sackclothed and dull

Render me hollow,
Empty my skull
Vacuous, ransacked
Littered with spoil, nutrients stolen
My still waters roil
As I falter, blinded, beleaguered, I fall
Render me hollow,
Empty my skull

Render me soulless,
Eviscerated, null
Grey, empty, mourning
Exhausted with toil, eyes bloodshot red
From life, I recoil
As I stumble, burdened and buried, I fall
Render me soulless
Eviscerated, null

Happy Junk – Sunday Photo Fiction

freyathewriter 15 Comments

Here is my offering for Sunday Photo Fiction this week, inspired by the photo below.  Why not take part? And why not visit Alastair’s photography and writing blog to take a look at his other photos…?

GEDSC DIGITAL CAMERACopyright – Kattermonran

– Happy Junk –

Hong Kong. The little ship in the window reminds him of Hong Kong. 

Stuart stands for a moment, resting his fingertips against the murky glass. His breath mists the window, obscuring the scale model from view.

The quiet lane disappears, and instead his senses are assaulted by the sounds and smells of a busy harbour, water barely visible as vessels jostle for position. He sees merchants hopping from deck to deck, sacks and parcels balanced on their shoulders. They are shouting, gesticulating, laughing, joking and bargaining. The clink of coins hitting boards and jingling in pockets is a musical box to his ears.

He smiles, and walks away, his day illuminated by joyful memories, all triggered by an insignificant junk shop ornament.

Sometimes, you just need to pay attention to experience happiness.

It’s often right in front of your eyes.