Fictional Prose Seeking Friendly Advice
Short stories and chapters from books and novels - Friendly feedback has been requested for these poems.
goldenmyst
Poem Published
19th Apr 2018 6:45pm
19th Apr 2018 6:45pm
African Eve - Story
African Eve - Story
The smoke from a forest being burned for tobacco cultivation hovers over the fields. Men gather at the saloon to smoke cigars and drink beer. A gray-haired man sits in the center of the room with a gaze as though collecting his thoughts. I see into the crystal clarity of his eyes and approach him. He tells me of the mystery of time which flows like a river through the forest of dreams.
He shares his memory of the crescent of Quonset huts where babies nurse from their mother’s breast. It is the twilight of magic he says. He heard the...
The smoke from a forest being burned for tobacco cultivation hovers over the fields. Men gather at the saloon to smoke cigars and drink beer. A gray-haired man sits in the center of the room with a gaze as though collecting his thoughts. I see into the crystal clarity of his eyes and approach him. He tells me of the mystery of time which flows like a river through the forest of dreams.
He shares his memory of the crescent of Quonset huts where babies nurse from their mother’s breast. It is the twilight of magic he says. He heard the...
#forest
#trees
#nature
33 reads
3 Comments
goldenmyst
Poem Published
19th Apr 2018 3:51am
19th Apr 2018 3:51am
Bus Lady and the Two Knights
Bus Lady and the Two Knights
She sits under the arched passage while I stand over her. My offer of a taxi to get her home is made void by my lack of pocket money. Thunder and lightning boom with torrential rain pelting the parking lot. The city bus is our only escape route.
She gazes at the busy intersection with her eyes glued for the freedom mobile. We stand like track runners just before the gunshot signal. I yell “Go!” We race under sheets of water and electricity. The bus doors open for us soaked travelers. Even in our feminist age, she thanks me for “Ladies first.”...
She sits under the arched passage while I stand over her. My offer of a taxi to get her home is made void by my lack of pocket money. Thunder and lightning boom with torrential rain pelting the parking lot. The city bus is our only escape route.
She gazes at the busy intersection with her eyes glued for the freedom mobile. We stand like track runners just before the gunshot signal. I yell “Go!” We race under sheets of water and electricity. The bus doors open for us soaked travelers. Even in our feminist age, she thanks me for “Ladies first.”...
#women
#men
#storm #religion
#storm #religion
25 reads
2 Comments
LunasChild8
Poem Published
7th Apr 2018 6:50am
7th Apr 2018 6:50am
Across the Sea
I am at the beach; the golden sand warms up my bare feet as the calm ocean waves cool them off in return. I take in a deep breath and exhale slowly. The salty air acts as a disinfectant for all of the wounds that I carry with me; wounds that have not healed all the way.
The sun is setting, but it is not a sign of unhappiness; it is a sign of new beginnings. I'm leaving my past behind to move forward to a bright, yet unknown future. The thought thrills me as for once, I have no idea what will be around the corner. Despite my slight insecurities, I am at ease with that fact. I have worked...
The sun is setting, but it is not a sign of unhappiness; it is a sign of new beginnings. I'm leaving my past behind to move forward to a bright, yet unknown future. The thought thrills me as for once, I have no idea what will be around the corner. Despite my slight insecurities, I am at ease with that fact. I have worked...
#hope
#motivational
#moon #water
#moon #water
50 reads
8 Comments
Dancing_Butterfly
Poem Published
6th Apr 2018 3:12am
6th Apr 2018 3:12am
No Fairy-Tale Ending
I keep waiting, but you never come back to me. How can you come back, when you've gone where I cannot? Our souls met several eternities ago; I knew you without a question that you were mine. You knew me too, so long ago when you were the Knight, and I was your Lady.
Our love story was epic, better than any Fairy Tale dreamt up by The Brothers Grimm, as sparkling and glowing as the moonlight on the waves of a faraway sea. We wove the story together: I was your Vampyre Princess, you my Hybrid Lover. Just a silly fairy tale, made up as we went along, but it was still our story, a love...
Our love story was epic, better than any Fairy Tale dreamt up by The Brothers Grimm, as sparkling and glowing as the moonlight on the waves of a faraway sea. We wove the story together: I was your Vampyre Princess, you my Hybrid Lover. Just a silly fairy tale, made up as we went along, but it was still our story, a love...
#sadness
#grief
#heartbroken
40 reads
0 Comments
aabbchot
Poem Published
5th Apr 2018 1:24am
5th Apr 2018 1:24am
Central Petroleum ( CTP )
WHIMSICAL SATIRE on Australian small oil gas exploration production company Central Petroleum ( CTP ) listed on the Australian Stock Exchange. CTP was created by geologist, founding Managing Director, with tenement landholding bigger than the sizes of U.K. France, Texas. M.D., Board, executive behaviour led to court case currently being heard in Texas, M.D. sacking ( challenged in court and winning substantial payout ), new controversial M.D., Board appointed. Oil market collapse left CTP unable to raise more equity chronically short of funds, switched focus from oil to gas to exploit East...
#conflict
30 reads
0 Comments
LunasChild8
Poem Published
31st Mar 2018 1:54am
31st Mar 2018 1:54am
Meum Stabile Petra
I am a planet; a big ball of mass and materials floating around the vastness of space as I slowly, but steadily developed. Out of all the other planets in my system, only I was the fortunate one to experience the privileges of life.
They called me unique, yet I felt tiny and insignificant compared to the billions of stars that shamelessly shine their illuminating light. I wondered if there were others out there like me; planets that shared similarities with me. So alike, yet very independent in in our own manners.
Sol assured me that I am not the only one of my kind. Sol; my...
They called me unique, yet I felt tiny and insignificant compared to the billions of stars that shamelessly shine their illuminating light. I wondered if there were others out there like me; planets that shared similarities with me. So alike, yet very independent in in our own manners.
Sol assured me that I am not the only one of my kind. Sol; my...
#BestFriend
#family
#earth
#moon
#gratitude
45 reads
4 Comments
goldenmyst
Poem Published
27th Mar 2018 4:15am
27th Mar 2018 4:15am
A Grandmother
A Grandmother
Hua gathers wood in the quiet of an autumn moment. Her grandmother heart pines for home in the silent woods. But her arms ache with old age in a time of disquiet. Her back bows with the weight of years unaccounted for, until her body trembles with arthritic toil. When falling stars sprinkle in the night, her memories play like shadow puppets. The theater she attended in Beijing as a child becomes her world. And time washes away her pain like a flooding yellow river in spring.
Hua gathers wood in the quiet of an autumn moment. Her grandmother heart pines for home in the silent woods. But her arms ache with old age in a time of disquiet. Her back bows with the weight of years unaccounted for, until her body trembles with arthritic toil. When falling stars sprinkle in the night, her memories play like shadow puppets. The theater she attended in Beijing as a child becomes her world. And time washes away her pain like a flooding yellow river in spring.
#fiction
#prose
#aging
51 reads
4 Comments
jonni_inferno
Poem Published
17th Mar 2018 1:30am
17th Mar 2018 1:30am
Seas of Tyme...
comprising several works -
Intro - Seas of Tyme
Chapter - 1 Bent and Broken
Chapter - 2 In Sorrowe Wepte
Chapter - 3 Beyonde Alle Dreams
Chapter - 4 Thru Deepeste Nyghte
Seas of Tyme
'neathe starrye skyes
warre doth rage
crosse the seas of tyme
yet thereupon
this battle-fielde
two heartes
becayme
entwyned...
Chapter 1
Bent and Broken
he stumbles
'pon the rocky pathe
in armour
bent and brokenne
his journeye to
bryghte sylvarre-mere
lyfe's hoppe ...
Intro - Seas of Tyme
Chapter - 1 Bent and Broken
Chapter - 2 In Sorrowe Wepte
Chapter - 3 Beyonde Alle Dreams
Chapter - 4 Thru Deepeste Nyghte
Seas of Tyme
'neathe starrye skyes
warre doth rage
crosse the seas of tyme
yet thereupon
this battle-fielde
two heartes
becayme
entwyned...
Chapter 1
Bent and Broken
he stumbles
'pon the rocky pathe
in armour
bent and brokenne
his journeye to
bryghte sylvarre-mere
lyfe's hoppe ...
#dreams
#apocalypse
#mythology
48 reads
0 Comments
goldenmyst
Poem Published
10th Mar 2018 4:51am
10th Mar 2018 4:51am
Monday
Monday
I step out onto the rain-slicked streets and into the humid but cooler air. Traffic whizzes by like bees. People run like mice in a wheel, getting nowhere fast. In offices lost to time, there is an endless shuffling of paper. People clack keyboards and words trickle. Printers spew out reams of figures. My tired bloodshot eyes stare at the coffee mug.
I dream of a sunrise far away across the ruins of time in some land lost to memory where a lover serenades his beloved as she stands on the balcony before the rising sun. Laughing children scatter across fields whose...
I step out onto the rain-slicked streets and into the humid but cooler air. Traffic whizzes by like bees. People run like mice in a wheel, getting nowhere fast. In offices lost to time, there is an endless shuffling of paper. People clack keyboards and words trickle. Printers spew out reams of figures. My tired bloodshot eyes stare at the coffee mug.
I dream of a sunrise far away across the ruins of time in some land lost to memory where a lover serenades his beloved as she stands on the balcony before the rising sun. Laughing children scatter across fields whose...
#technology
#nature
87 reads
6 Comments
goldenmyst
Poem Published
28th Feb 2018 2:42am
28th Feb 2018 2:42am
New Mexican Mother and Son
New Mexican Mother and Son
The street welcomes us with mariachi under the ghost moon. I pull my son along by his pillowy little hand with my bony fingers. Under the dusk light, the atmosphere is scented with tequila fumes, mixed with a blast of pungent garlic, and onion so strong tears form in my eyes. People weave like yarn in a loom. There the grocery smells like a kitchen where tamales are steamed in a banana leaf with the sweetness of a mother’s love on a summer’s night.
He is a cherub whose wings carry him down the aisle past racks of chili peppers. His tiny hands...
The street welcomes us with mariachi under the ghost moon. I pull my son along by his pillowy little hand with my bony fingers. Under the dusk light, the atmosphere is scented with tequila fumes, mixed with a blast of pungent garlic, and onion so strong tears form in my eyes. People weave like yarn in a loom. There the grocery smells like a kitchen where tamales are steamed in a banana leaf with the sweetness of a mother’s love on a summer’s night.
He is a cherub whose wings carry him down the aisle past racks of chili peppers. His tiny hands...
79 reads
4 Comments
britani_elias12
Poem Published
18th Feb 2018 8:32pm
18th Feb 2018 8:32pm
P.G.W
No time, no thought could have created a world much like ours. Hope was lost. everything we knew has vanished. This precious planet we call home is no more. We no longer exist. Written down in history. Scared amongst ourselves. This is our punishment. This is what we created. These monsters within have been released. True reflection can be shown. True immortality can't be released. All in motion everything changes. Time speeds up, thoughts become clear. Clouds of rain slowly began to disappear. Peaks of mountains can slowly be seen. Through the pink misty sun rise, boundaries start to...
72 reads
1 Comment
goldenmyst
Poem Published
14th Feb 2018 4:32am
14th Feb 2018 4:32am
A Mother's Love
A Mother's Love
One fall morning in late September, Rodrigo lies in his crib next to the bed crying. I remove his toddler outfit to let him bask in the sun. He rolls in the tomato patch dirt of our apartment courtyard. Then I bathe him in the outdoor bucket which he loves. His belly jiggles as I tickle his tummy. His mirth makes me laugh too.
My hands rub him and wash him in Mother Nature’s baptism. I send water flowing across him. Bye bye baby blues for my son. My baby, in hopscotch training, kicks like a frog. When he kicked within my womb,...
One fall morning in late September, Rodrigo lies in his crib next to the bed crying. I remove his toddler outfit to let him bask in the sun. He rolls in the tomato patch dirt of our apartment courtyard. Then I bathe him in the outdoor bucket which he loves. His belly jiggles as I tickle his tummy. His mirth makes me laugh too.
My hands rub him and wash him in Mother Nature’s baptism. I send water flowing across him. Bye bye baby blues for my son. My baby, in hopscotch training, kicks like a frog. When he kicked within my womb,...
147 reads
8 Comments
DU Poetry : Fictional Prose Seeking Advice: Short Stories and Chapters from Books and Novels
