This prompt is from the ‘Story a Day’ site. Wednesday writing prompts. Hosted by Julie Duffy
The Prompt ~ Your character is searching for something…and time is running out.
CONFUSION
by John Yeo
There is something I desperately need to know,
I must find out where I am! My location!
I lie here soul-searching for a solution,
My mind slips in and out of the flow.
My thoughts are the centre of my meditation.
Where am I? How did I get in this situation?
The answers are there and they come and they go,
I must find out where I am! My location!
I search hard to get control of the motion.
Of the patterns of thought fast and slow.
Where am I? How did I get in this situation?
I am paralyzed with mental frustration,
The clues are there and I know as I follow
I must find out where I am! My location!
My memory was good, many years ago,
Instant recollection, free from sorrow.
Where am I? How did I get in this situation?
My character of the moment is a solitary man who is recovering consciousness from a massive car collision. He crawled away into a nearby thick, woody, copse, at the side of the road, where he became unconscious. Slowly, as he recovers his sense of awareness, he realises he is losing blood fast, drifting in and out of reality, he begins to search for himself with the slow realisation that his time is running out.
This is a response to a Flash Fiction prompt from ‘The Last Post on WordPress’
Prompt…. Head to your favourite Blog, scroll down to the third post on the list. Take the third sentence on the post, and work it into a new post of your own.
‘Since soon out there into the wide unknown world’
With thanks to gunroswell and her ‘Rantings of a third kind’ blog.
RETREAT
by John Yeo
We live in our personal space in England,
The lawn slopes to the edge of some trees,
Our house sits in front of our woody garden
With shrubs in floral borders sure to please.
There is a secret path within those trees
Leading to a comfortable place of total seclusion.
Since soon out there into the wide unknown world
A wave of death and disease is approaching.
~
Thick bushes and shrubs screen this secret place
Shielding a hidden glade with a secure, secret studio,
A rustic gate opens into a walled garden space.
A sheltered arbor within, has a comfortable seat
In front of a pond with water lilies a tinkling fountain.
This is a response to a Flash Fiction prompt from ‘The Daily Post on WordPress’
Prompt ~Share the Love
Tell us about another blogger who has influenced your own online journey.
Crows roosting by Patrick White – 15/09/1948 – 01/03/2014.
THE POWER OF WORDS
by John Yeo
It was ten years ago when I first came into contact with a man who had a big influence on my writing.
I followed his writing on a daily basis, overwhelmed with his poetry. He would write a long powerful poem on a daily basis and publish it on his Facebook page. It was to become a joy for me to wake in the morning and to start my day by reading his latest overnight post. I began commenting daily on his published poem and receiving a response. We became good online friends, to the point of him signing off by always sending. ‘Love to Margaret,’ my wife.
He was also a brilliant and accomplished artist, often displaying and selling his work online.
Sadly he passed away on the first of March, 2014.
PATRICK WHITE R.I.P.
by John Yeo
Tragedy; a situation that can be woven into verse?
Not a difficult question for the power of the pen.
Advice from a talented well-respected poet and artist
Patrick White (15/09/1948 – 01/03/2014)
‘I Often employ a Sufi practice in my poems, called scattering. You seed the wind with so many flowers, stars, images, the border guards of front door consciousness are overwhelmed by them to the extent that they start coming in the undefended… back door of the subconscious that listens to and hears everything without missing a thing. The point is to get in first, and then let the conscious mind find a place for them to settle. As for the form, its dynamic, not static and runs like a northern river back to its source, with all the inflections of water, whitewater, still water, falling water etc. reflecting the various moods and intensities of the poet along the way.’ Patrick White
This is a response to a Flash Fiction prompt from ‘The Daily Post on WordPress’
Prompt ~THE TRANSPORTER
Tell us about a sensation – a taster, a smell, a piece of music, that takes you back to childhood.
The boyhood of Raleigh by John Everett Millais 1870
THE TRANSPORTER
by John Yeo
The sensation that is the strongest transporter back to my childhood will always be a strong smell of ronuk fXxurniture and floor polish. Our school reception area was full of highly polished panelled wood, with a polished wooden floor. These wooden areas were kept highly polished by the school cleaners, using ronuk, floor and furniture polish. The powerful smell of this wax polish will live with me forever.
However, there was another sense at work in this area that will always stay with me and that is the sense of curiosity and wonder every time I gazed at a painting that was prominently displayed in the main entrance area. Every time I passed this work of art, I would spend ages just standing, soaking up this image, surrounded by a strong smell of ronuk floor and furniture polish.
In the foreground of the painting was a bearded man
wearing a distinctive hat, seated in front of a beached fishing boat.
The fisherman was in conversation with two young boys
pointing to a distant horizon with one hand, while holding a fishing net with the other hand.
THE HORIZON
by John Yeo
A distant horizon, where the clouds meet the sea
An unbroken line as far as the eye could see
Representing mystery and imagination to the schoolboy mind.
A gateway to the unknown an escape route from reality,
The sailor, telling tales of wonder across the waves.
~
Waves as high as mountains and fish as big as a man.
Huge sea monsters with many humps spouting spume
Swordfish, mermaids, sharks and pearls in shells
I would stand and be transported to distant lands
Journey to places I was encountering in classes.
~
Ivory and the slave trade, copra, with spices
Sandy islands with Palm trees and Robinson Crusoe,
Cannibals and treasure with footprints in the sand.
Pirates and corsairs with cutlass and gunpowder.
Gold-filled galleons sailing the storm-tossed seas.
~
Hornpipe, sea shanties, shipwreck and disease.
Colourful birds flying high above the waves
Leading the traders to many distant lands,
Jungles, filled with lions, bears and monkeys,
Elephants and tigers, and strange perfumed flowers.
~
Faraway lands filled with milk and honey
With many peoples of the world in traditional dress.
Contrasting strange lives of splendour, and sad distress.
Deserts with oasis and camel train routes from the east.
The mystical oriental thousand and one tales of wonder.
~
Magic lamps with genies granting wishes galore.
The science of Arabia, the wisdom of China and more.
The perilous journey home across the seas braving storms
Carrying the cargo from ports and people round the world.
Unload a hold full of fish mend the nets whilst ashore.
~
A dream-filled reverie cut short with a caustic shout to implore.
‘You there! Stop daydreaming boy, and cut along to classes’.
Unsurprisingly this was always going to be an incredibly easy prompt to respond to, as everyone is currently embroiled in a worldwide pandemic. It is impossible to plan an escape from an ongoing, ever-changing situation. However the poem certainly answers the prompt.
This prompt was quite easy for me to answer, as I had already answered something like it in a poetry group Margaret and I were both members of seven years ago. I wrote this poem which is based on an actual event that happened during my school days. The fountain pen I won did give me a lot of service over the years. Sadly, I can’t remember exactly what happened to the pen but the main section of this writing prompt is answered within this poem. I think I probably outgrew or lost this wonderful prize that was responsible for inspiring and enabling me to put my thoughts on paper over many years since.
The Germination of Significance from an Insignificant Seed
I’ve decided to switch my attention to another prompt provider, perhaps with more challenging prompts. So far I have completed three months of my New Years resolution to complete a writing prompt every day. A wonderful exercise during lockdown.
This is a response to a Flash Fiction prompt from ‘The Daily Post on WordPress’
Prompt ~ THE SOCIAL NETWORK . Do you feel like you “get” social media, or do you just use it because that’s where all your friends and family are?
THE SOCIAL NETWORK
by John Yeo
The problem with responding to this prompt is the wide-ranging area of the question. I am sure everyone who experiences both the benefits and the negative aspects of social media would have a different view.
My first introduction to this; at the time, a hazy, mysterious world, was through one of our daughters who was working on an Open University degree and suggested we join Facebook. I think we both have a lot to thank her for, as from that day, we have both embraced the online social media circle in many ways.
To go back to the first part of the question, I would have to say I certainly do ‘get’ the benefits of social media and also I ‘get’ the prospect of the hidden dangers.
The main positive factor has always been instant communication with the family wherever in the world they have settled. The sharing of photographs and comments both enables one to literally watch their children growing up in real time.
A huge benefit to me has been the making of many interesting international friends who have helped me enormously with my writing.
Social media has a lot of hidden dangers only counteracted by whatever one reveals to the world of online respondents.
SOCIAL MEDIA
by John Yeo
The question is, ‘Do you ‘get’ Social Media at all?’
It’s the word, ‘get’ that triggers some mild anxiety,
At first the presentation is designed to enthral.
~
The feeling of a timeline on your very own wall,
Communicating with your friends and family,
The question is, ‘Do you ‘get’ Social Media at all?’
~
Friends suddenly appear to test your ultimate recall
Stretching the limits of your personal privacy,
At first the presentation is designed to enthral.
~
Mention a product, start a search, begin to trawl,
Soon your wall contains adverts in a great variety
The question is, ‘Do you ‘get’ Social Media at all?’
~
Your close friends and family reveal their almost all
Reminders appear of many an upcoming birthday,
At first the presentation is designed to enthral.
~
The twists and turns of opinion can often apall
Despite a feeling of fellowship and friendly society,
At first the presentation is designed to enthral,
The question is, ‘Do you ‘get’ Social Media at all?’
This is a response to a Flash Fiction prompt from ‘Putting My Feet In the Dirt’, Writing Prompts hosted by ‘M’. Which can be found by following the link below..
Note …. This poem is a work of pure fiction and in no way relates to my personal reactions to the pandemonium and persuasions that will always be the lot of some unfortunate people.
This is a response to a Flash Fiction prompt from ‘Putting My Feet In the Dirt’, Writing Prompts hosted by ‘M’. Which can be found by following the link below..
We will let the fires of life burn out and in the dying embers we will sit and dream.
We will remember the fire that burned through our minds and bodies when we fell in love.
Then the fire of ambition when we first started college, the knowledge that added fuel to ignite our dreams.
The fires of protest, when we held firm beliefs and we were prepared to die for our feelings.
The fires that burned fiercely in our minds as we aged and ignited the fires of freedom in the minds of our children.
Proudly we have shared the fire and watched our children ignite the flames in the next generation.
Dreamily as the fire of our lives glows dimly, and the embers burn out, we ponder on our final destination, burial or cremation? Ashes to ashes, dust to dust?
Suddenly, shouts of joy as our Grandchildren run towards the smattering of smoke from the dwindling bonfire. ‘Grandpa and Grandma; wake up and come inside before you get cold when the fire burns out!’
This is a response to a Flash Fiction prompt from ‘Putting My Feet In the Dirt’, Writing Prompts hosted by ‘M’. Which can be found by following the link below..
johnandmargaret1607 