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..
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..
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..
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..
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..
Poetry on a tragedy. I was asked by an old friend to resurrect one of my poems to reflect a sad addiction. After some minor adjustments I came up with this seven year old piece. Love ❤️ and Peace ☮️ to all
I remember an unwilling, uninspiring English language teacher several years ago, who demonstrated some individual views on life that would have been highly criticised today. His major goal in life at the time was a high degree of self-promotion. His outward role was to attempt to instil in his pupils, (subjects), an interest in writing and appreciating poetry. He would start a session by reading his personal examples of poetry, then invite comments, which were obviously expected to be positive. The class would then be invited to write a poem on a set subject. An hour later our teacher would sit and take them apart piece by piece. The session would end by him handing out a subject to take away and use as an impetus to write a piece of poetry. When I wrote the above poem, I was influenced by some of his views and his comments. I included a couple of sentences that to this day I hope he noticed and took away with him.
Of course I’ve reworded and rejigged some of the words, since I resurrected it. When I look back, I can’t help thinking perhaps he wasn’t a bad teacher as he certainly stung me into action.
My picture today reflects the turbulent sea. I recently became aware of the still prevalent problem of refugees and people- smuggling, that is still happening, in spite of the current pandemic that is raging around the four corners of the globe. I’m sure the last thing that springs to mind when one is frightened and desperately searching for a new life in a new land, is social distancing. These unfortunate travellers are crammed together in small dirty boats, or sealed into the backs of lorries using every inch of available space. Many of these people are caught and escorted back to where they came from. Sadly a high number die on the journey. The hidden, unknown, almost unthinkable side of this ongoing situation, is the thought of the uncountable number of people who actually get through and melt into the population. The incalculable risk of the spread of Coronavirus by this means is something that can never be included in the Scientific data.