The Advantages of Being A Woman Artist

For Found Poetry February day 15. Sometimes found poetry is simply something I “find” that is poetry to me. I found this gem at the Wellington, NZ Te Papa Museum. The picture isn’t great, it’s really hard to shoot through glass on a lit display so I’ve recapped it for you below.

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The Wind in his Face

The Wind in his Face

“Walk, boy? Wanna go walk?” the human gushed.

Frank the Pug growled “Why in the seven suns of Satornia would I have wings if I wanted to walk!” What his human heard was “bark, bark, grrrrrr, BARK!”

Frank looked around for some means of escape, to feel the wind in his face. Ah, the window was open just a crack. With a leaping twist, he freed himself of the human and bounded for the window, wings flaring behind him. “FREEDOM!” He cried. His head went through, but his wings stuck firmly behind the window frame. “Crap and kibbles” growled Frank.

Word count 100

For Friday Fictioneers, do pop over and give a read to some great flash fiction.

Til next time ~Peace ~JPP

Where the Spirit Fire Flowers Bloom

A bit of Flash Fiction for Kira’s Sunday Scribbles do check out these great picture prompts!

Where the Spirit Fire Flowers Bloom

The battle was over, vast and bloody it had been. The Gremlekins were part of the clean up patrol. They wandered through the horrible remains of the battlefield with the wives and mothers seeking lost sons and husbands. Small, gentle creatures, they could always be counted on to give the unclaimed dead what comfort could be found in a simple cleansing and burial.

Found Poetry February day 14 – Little Secret Seeds

For today’s Found Poetry entry, I’ve used “cut out” poetry. Basically, you cut out words from something and reassemble them into a poem. This one came from a flyer from my local health food store.

Fandango’s Provocative Question # 14 A question of objectivity

Fandango asks another great mind puzzler this week  FPQ # 14

“Do you believe that anyone can really experience anything objectively? Why or why not?”

No. Why? Because we are human. As living, thinking, sentient beings, we are the product of our experiences and perceptions. Have you ever played the gossip game? The one where you all line up and the first person reads a whispered message to the next person, and so on down the line. By the time the same message is repeated by a dozen of so people, the message will have changed significantly.

Candy Hearts – a twittering tale

A Twittering Tale for a twittery holiday

Candy Hearts

She read the card on the box of candy hearts.

“St. Valentine was a Christian martyr who was beheaded after being beaten and stoned. I find it appropriate that the patron saint of lovers is a man so intimately acquainted with pain. Time 2 dance.”

How had he found her again?

Character count 271

Til next time ~Peace ~JPP

The Statue

For Fifty Word Thursday this week is over at Tales from the mind of Kristian

here are the words: From the moment we saw him most of us lived in dread of him

Here is the photo:

The Statue

He was tall and lean with the ropy strength of tendon, muscle and bone, his hands calloused from years of genuine, hard, work. He demanded nothing of his employees that he did not demand of himself. He was a hard man, but a fair man. Yet from the moment we saw him, most of us lived in dread of him. Perhaps it was his ice blue eyes that could see straight through any lie. Or the piercing pain and sorrow that lay hidden beneath those icy depths even when his face held a smile. But I think it was the statue at his office that we dreaded most. The woman astride a wave, friend to bird and fish and all things of the sea. She held a construction pylon in one hand, a constant, silent reminder of the tragic traffic accident that had taken his wife all those years ago.

Word count 150

Til next time ~Peace ~JPP