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 |  A place where I fight to survive |
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{center "When you play the game of thrones you win, or you die." Cersei Lannister
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| We begin the New Year with lots of cheer, And always seem to drink too much beer. February reigns sweet on the charts, As Cupid hits us with his arrow darts. Women's History Month begins March 1st, A day when respect earned is reimbursed. April finds Easter, or it can be in May, We celebrate the Risen Jesus on this day. Mommas get loving that is well deserved, In May affection for them is not reserved. Fathers come next with our love bestowed, For June is the month when love is sowed. Independence Day is a real blast, In July, we celebrate our past. Celebrating friendship is what we do, In August, we never feel blue. Fallen Soldiers, we always remember, On Labor Day in September. Halloween is a time for fright, In October, when day turns to night. Families enjoy their time together, On Thanksgiving in November. Jesus was born on Christmas Day, In December, for our sins to pay. (24 Lines) (194 Words) 57. Write a 12 stanza poem - each stanza representing a different month of the year. Each of those stanzas should be a couplet about a holiday in that month. Points: 4,000 |
| 1.Jack was running super fast Took a tumble and broke his ass. When I asked him about his spell, He just groaned and rubbed his tail. "I swear, I just trespassed. Limerick ▼ 2. I Don't like This form. It's Way Too restrictive For my own taste. Poetry Form:JOYBELL ▼ 3. Sweet kitty, pounces under the blanket. Never taking her green eyes off the stray. Her senses are sharp, she's a trained bandit Ready to make another her entree. Her claws come out, as a quick forwarning. A Cheshire grin is on full display. For my Kitty, this is a good morning. But I fear not too pleasant for her prey. When her feat is done, she comes to cuddle With innocent looks, and lioness purrs, She plops down on my lap like a puddle. This informs me that my lap is now hers. You'll always be my favorite rescue. My precious little kitty, I love you. Sonnet - 14 lines Rhyme Scheme - ABAB CDCD EFEF GG 4. The magnificent colors of the rainbow Represent the merciful love of our Lord. He ignites the sky and our souls all aglow Forgiving our sins, so we're newly restored, Allowing His children to evolve and grow Because we know He is our Shield and our sword. Don't be afraid to call on Him night or day. One of our greatest gifts is the right to pray. Believe you are protected under His wing. To Him give the glory and joyfully sing Loving praises to our omnipresent King. ELEVENTH POWER Poetry Form ▼ 5. The Earth celebrates The ultimate artisan. Our one and only Magnificent creator, From whom all-loving light flows. Form:TANKA ▼ 6.Lost Adrift Without you. My loving light. Grasping in the dark, Returns my clinched fists forlorn, And my tear-streaked face timeworn. The hourglass cracks. My mind does too. But the world Never Stops. Form: Arquain ▼ 7.God's Grace surrounds me still, Of His Love I am sure. Divine forgiveness, is ours to receive Sent by our Savior, our gift for free. God protects us under His wing, Rest in Him and rejoice. Arise with Jesus on your lips, Cleave to His promise, Enjoy His treasures forever more. Poetry Form: ACROSTIC ▼ 8.Life-giving rain falls on the thirsty ground below, soothing the dry roots and replenishing Earth's veins. It fills the parched creek, giving drink to God's creatures, big and small alike. Calling all to a refuge to ease the sun's rays, of the hot, humid August day's sweltering haze. Naga Uta ▼ 9. The view outside the opened door is nice with the sunshine radiating don't you think? It's beautiful I do agree with you the sun feels nice we should go out shouldn't we? (10 Lines) Tanka Dutch Form. 10.God is my hope For all in my life. In Him Always Is where I will grow, And be kept safe. The Haunt is another gem from Viola Berg's treasure chest Pathways for the Poet, originated by her in honor of noted Christian educator William D. Hautt. The structure consists of six unrhymed lines with syllable counts of 4, 5, 2, 2, 5, 4. The theme should be the pursuit of wisdom or the teaching of eternal truth with each line ending on a strong word. |
| Bolting awake, drenched in cold sweat, My heart's pounding, pounding, pounding! Reflecting on the hell I've just awakened from, Inside, my soul knows the truth. Twisted, monstrous creatures surround me, My body's paralyzed, I can not flee. Destruction and annihilation flood my mind, My eyes locked with a soul-less evil! Jesus, Save Me! I frantically yell. In my next breath, I awaken in my bed. This nightmare, I knew that wasn't, Came to haunt the people of the world. A blinding light split the sky, Illuminating the small town below. Aliens in their twisted form arrived, Sending a chill down all our spines. Giants with over-lapping skin and huge eyes, Moved their arms and legs in a jerky motion. "We are the Harbingers of truth," they claimed, With ancient prophecies and impending doom. Beneath each step, the ground withered. The townspeople were paralyzed with fear. The aliens stalked the night, Their captured prey's gone from sight. First light broke over the horizon, In an instant, the monsters were gone. The people were left to ponder the truth, There were far darker forces than imagined. (28 Lines) (205 Words) Newspaper Clippings: 15. At some point, the aliens will show themselves to us - what do you know about it? |
"April 5th"  "Invasion" "A Visit With Five Newsletters" 1. "Forgiveness" I picked this one because forgiveness is something really hard to do, but something that is so important, and perhaps one of the most valuable gifts we can give ourselves. Jeff's commentary was very informative and covered this. He also had a definition I truly liked, "to give up commitment or claim requital for." It's the setting aside of negative feelings or the desire for vengeance, carrying grudges, and resentments, and seeking to exact punishment for perceived wrongs can really change your own mental health and emotional stability. 2. "You and Your Soul" I picked this one because Kit's questions grabbed my attention. What is a soul? What do you believe a soul to be? Is it something material or immaterial? I believe our soul is our true self. The body is just packaging. I believe when we die, our soul leaves our body and heads for our eternal home. For me, that's heaven, where I'll be able to reunite with all my loved ones who have passed. I like this thought given by Kit, "While there is much I don't know about the soul. I do believe it is something that we should nourish. We look after our teeth, by cleaning them, and look after our kidneys by drinking enough water. As it is with other parts of us, so it is with the soul — it requires care to function at its best". 3. "Messages from beyond" Contacting the dead. Can we speak to the departed? This is a subject that has always fascinated me. I've had experiences since I was a child, so I know this is possible. However, I don't seek them out, because I'm aware that negative energies can come in their place. Arakun writes, "Rather you believe in the afterlife or being able to contact the dead, it's a great source for horror stories. Seances, ouija boards, and other means of contacting the spirits have been used in a variety of ways in previous horror stories and movies". 4. "Ancient Evil" From Gods, devils, and all creatures in between. We ourselves struggle with good and evil. Does true evil exist? The age-old fight between good and evil. The creatures that hide in the dark, in the shadows. We'd probably never sleep if we realized how many are out there. I definitely believe in true evil. I know it exists. Gaby writes, "We almost take good for granted, while we are very curious about evil. It doesn't make us bad people. It's our imagination with the dark side, and the need to explain it, understand it. And for any writer to be a good writer, we have to face our inner demons, even if it's with the written word". 5. "The Whole Truth" Writing a nonfiction story about yourself. Have you ever written an autobiographical short story? I picked this one because I have autobiographical writings in my port, and have always enjoyed reading them. Lilly notes that writing autobiographical stories isn't the same as making a blog entry. They must have certain necessary elements: Character - which will be you. Setting - a well-defined setting for the story you're telling, Theme - think about the overall theme, Climax - What is the high point of the incident you're writing about? You will need a buildup of action and a climax. And Resolution - This is where you tie up loose ends". 1. Enter "Daily Flash Fiction Challenge" *BurstBL* Share the post so we can check *BurstBL* Give us your written item as well 2. Visit Newsletter Archives *BurstBL* Find five (5) different Newsletters - preferably different genres - from last year *BurstBL* Post them in "The Tavern ~ Sit for a while and chat" *BurstBL* Within that post, explain each in a small paragraph: *Type* Why you picked it *Type* What you liked about it *BurstBL* Come back here and link to it |
| I bolted awake, shooting straight up to a sitting position. My body and sheets are drenched in a cold sweat, and my heart is racing so fast, it feels like it's about to explode. What the hell? I think to myself. I think back to where I just was. Jumping out of bed, I clasp my hand over my mouth to keep the vomit from spraying onto the floor while I run to the bathroom. Once I calmed down, I reflected on what happened last night. I awoke to find myself lying on a steel table. I looked around the room where I was, and it was like the slate gray interior came from one mold. The room was oval. There were seats built into the walls, as one continuous bench. There were no seams. No separation. When I turned my face back around, creatures were surrounding me. I tried to scream, but no sound escaped my lips. My body was paralyzed. The only thing I could move was my eyes. My eyes darted to each monster. Images of destruction and annihilation flooded my mind. I was piercing into soulless evil. Jesus, save me! In the next breath, is when I bolted awake in my bed at home. I tried to shake it off as a vivid nightmare. But I've had plenty of those. I knew this was different. But for my own sanity, I pushed it as far down as it would go. What does this have to do with anything? My nightmare came to life one night. And no one was expecting the terror that lay ahead of us! In the dead of night, a blinding light split the sky, illuminating the small town below. In an instant, the aliens were standing before those of us who ran outside to see what was happening. They were unlike anything the world had ever seen. Their twisted forms sent a chill down the spine of all those who gazed upon them. They must have been fifteen to twenty feet tall. Their skin wrinkled, and over-lapping one fold upon the other. Their eyes were as big as tennis balls, and just as round, Black as moonless night, except for the glowing red pupil in the middle. Their arms and legs were lanky and out of proportion, and moved in a jerky manner. With each step that they took the ground withered and died beneath them, leaving a trail of desolation in their wake. A deafening voice boomed into the night, echoing in the minds of all who heard it. "We are the harbingers of truth," it intoned, sending a shiver of dread through the crowd. The aliens spoke of ancient prophecies and impending doom. Their words leave the townspeople paralyzed with fear. As their grip tightened on Earth, the aliens revealed their true purpose — to claim humanity as their own. Panic spread like wildfire as the people realized the grim fate that awaited them. As the night wore on, the aliens stalked the street, their dark unblinking eyes fixed on the prey. Those who were caught were never seen again. Their fates are unknown to the terrified survivors who huddled together in the dark. As the first light of dawn broke over the horizon, the aliens vanished as swiftly as they had come, leaving behind nothing but a barren wasteland. The townspeople were left to ponder the chilling truth — that they were not alone in the universe. There were far darker forces at play than they could ever imagine. (572 Words) Newspaper Clippings:15. At some point, the aliens will show themselves to us - what do you know about it? |
Through moon-lit streets, Gail softly tread, Following where the kitty led. The feline form moved through the mist, Into the night, she did persist. Drawn to secrets the cat possessed, She quickly followed without rest. Past shadows deep, and whispers low, Gail followed where the cat did go. In the realm of the midnight hour, She felt the cat's surreal power. The cat leaps through a veil at night, Where ghostly images shine bright. Dreams of magic swirl in the air, A place senses become aware. They traverse realms both far, and near, In the cat's gaze, wisdom appears. (16 lines) (121 Words) What's Her Story Prompt: 2. Start your story with a character being led somewhere by a stray cat. (Poetry) |
| Clara ran after the mysterious cat. She didn't stop to think why she was chasing this feline, she only knew she was compelled to do so by an inexplicable force. This mystical black cat lived in a small town surrounded by a dense forest. It possessed an other-worldly charm that drew people to it. As Clara followed the feline deeper into the forest, she absent-mindedly wiped the sweat dripping into her eyes and kept running. She couldn't lose sight of that cat! She knew within her inner-most being that this kit offered something unusual. Something magical. The sky grew dark, and she lost her bearing on time and place. She bent over hugging her knees, and trying to catch her breath. She didn't know for how long she had been running. As her lungs started to fill once more with air, she quickly jerked up, looking for the cat. A knot grew in her stomach at the thought of losing the cat's trail. Releasing a sigh, she was relieved to see the cat sitting just a few feet ahead, casually licking its paws, and looking up at her with emerald eyes that seemed to take on an unnatural glow. Clara placed her hands on her hips, thinking for a second that she must have lost her mind. But that thought flew right out of her head when the feline went on the run again. Without blinking, Clara picked up where she left off, chasing after this strange animal. As she followed the feline even deeper into the woods, the trees seemed to whisper ancient secrets, and their shadows twisted and danced around her. Time lost its meaning and Clara found herself slipping into a trance-like state. A hum filled the air. It sounded like a low motorboat sound in shallow water. Spinning in circles, with her head tilted toward the sky, Clara tried to find out where the noise was coming from. It encircled her and enveloped all her senses. The hum turned into audible whispers. It sounded like thousands of people whispering at the same time. But not a single word was clear. When she looked back down at her surroundings, they were bathed with an ethereal glow. The whole area shone in a luminescent golden-white light. It lit up the base and middle of the trees and the space between them. The whispers had stopped. All sounds went completely silent. Then as if it had a will of its own, an old, knarled tree with its branches reaching toward the sky like skeletal fingers, just appeared in the center. Sitting beside the ancient tree was the cat staring intensely at Clara. Suddenly, the ground trembled beneath their feet. Clara stumbled backward and grabbed onto a tree to keep from falling. A swirling vortex mist began to wrap around the tree. A chill ran up her spine, and panic gripped her heart, as ghostly figures emerged from the mist, whispering long-forgotten tales of love and loss. Her mind reeled with fear and curiosity. Clara realized she had stumbled onto a world between the living and the dead. She stepped further into the midst. As she did so, a strong gust of wind enveloped her and she felt herself being transported to a realm beyond her wildest imagination. She came face-to-face with her own inner demons. She was rewarded with answers to the oldest questions. She was gifted with knowledge thousands of years old. The experience was almost too much. When she came to, she was lying on the ground in the middle of the day. The sun beat down where the ethereal light once shined. Her throat was parched, as dry as the desert sand. Her body was drenched with sweat, and her inner body felt like it was on fire. Turning on her stomach, she brought her knees up to her hands and wearily pushed herself onto her feet. Looking around trying to get her bearings, she noticed the feline lying close by, flicking his tail. She had no idea where she was, or how long she had been in the woods. And she had no earthly idea how she was going to be able to find her way out. With that thought, as if reading her mind, the feline jumped to his feet and began guiding Clara out of the woods and back home. From that day onward, the cat followed alongside Clara. She became known as the catwalker. A name whispered in awe and reverence by the townspeople. And though she never ventured into the forest alone again, she carried the gifts of the supernatural journey with her (790 Words) What's Her Story Prompt: 2. Start your story with a character being led somewhere by a stray cat. (Short Story) |
A broken toy landed loudly on the sidewalk, sending a loud, echoing thud into the quiet still morning. Jasper lifted his head from the dumpster, wiped the sweat from his forehead, patiently bent down, plucked the broken toy from the sidewalk, and placed it in his bag. It was only seven a.m., and his bag was filled with hidden treasures. A couple of the citizens of his small town walked by and saw Jasper at it again. Shaking their heads, they scrunched up their lips and narrowed their eyes. They made a dramatic action of walking a wide circle around him and his junk bag. Jasper shrugged and kept right on collecting his treasures. He spent his days scouring the town for discarded items like old newspapers, soda cans, and broken toys. He returned to his apartment, a smile plastered on his face, as he dumped out his colorful, eclectic finds. He'd work tirelessly to transform them into sculptures and installations. His creations were colorful, whimsical, and full of life. But to the citizens, it was just junk. Jasper never waivered on his commitment to his art. He believed beauty could be found in the most unexpected places and was determined to prove it to the world. Releasing a loud breath, Jasper loaded in the last of his creations. It was time to take them to one of the many art fairs he worked at. He always looked forward to intermingling with like-minded folks, and the approval of his art did his heart good. When Jasper saw the thin man with a vest and monocule, his breath caught in his stomach. He knew exactly who he was! He was an esteemed art critic who had the power to change his life. The art critic slowly walked to each creation. He studied each piece with intense interest. He noticed the intricate details, the creativity, and the passion that went into each piece. When he was done, he walked over to Jasper. It was a discussion that was the beginning of a dream come true. Jasper's work was featured in many art galleries across the United States. The interest in his work was widespread and continued to grow in popularity. Jasper's determination to stay true to himself and his art had paid off in ways he could have never imagined. He had shown others that being different was a strength, not a weakness. And, in doing so, he encouraged others to embrace their uniqueness and follow their passions, no matter how unconventional they may seem. Because sometimes, it's the misfits who shine the brightest. (433 Words) |
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