Some Writing Prompts – August 2019

So for those of you who like a writing prompt or two here are some for August.  Three fairly obvious themes I think.  Make sure you add a pingback and I will attempt to pull them all together at the end of the month.  Let’s see what you got. 

  1. The day the skies burned
  2. Monorail
  3. Tomorrow, today.
  4. Dead satellites
  5. Orbital lockdown
  6. Binary lovers
  7. Apocalypse 2029
  8. Turbo
  9. Above the clouds
  10. Born to the stars
  11. Gravity
  12. Roses and bullets
  13. Darkest valentine
  14. Broken Mirror
  15. A lover’s touch
  16. Lips, blood red.
  17. My tomorrow, my yesterday.
  18. Summer no more.
  19. Innocence
  20. Love’s call
  21. Between the sheets
  22. The longest night
  23. Fangs
  24. A voice from beyond
  25. Our darkness
  26. Necrodancer
  27. Putrid
  28. The things inside
  29. Swarm
  30. The Awakened
  31. Sunrise no more

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NOT for the kiddies

Immature and inappropriate

The Haunted Wordsmith posted earlier and it tickled my fancy so I figured I would give it a crack.  The idea is to come up with the best lies to the questions below.  My lies are in BOLD.  Or are they lies?  Maybe they’re the truth and the truth is all just lies.

Deep eh 😉

Everyone thinks they know the story of Jack and Jill, but why did they really go up the hill?

Weed.  Jack was a serious toker and the hill gave him a great viewpoint in case the cops came by.  Jill brought snacks.  Be like Jill.

 

What was humpty dumpty sitting on and why?

A haemerroid ring.  Did you not know that he has serious piles from sitting on that cold fucking wall all day long.  They look like a freaking bunch of grapes just dangling from his little eggy anus.

 

What did Rapunzel let down?

Oh she let her hair down alright, that is why she was locked in that tower.  She was completely out of control when it came to princes and was secretly desperate to get a piece of any prince that was passing by.  Her parents locked her up there for her own good because she was getting a rep as a right little tease.  On and that wasn’t the hair from her head that she let down, she was famously hirsuite, if you know what I mean.  😉

 

What was Little Miss Muffet eating and what happened when the spider came down beside her?

Miss muffet had spend the afternoon with Jack and Jill so she was bloody starving and was eating porridge but she had already polished a ham, two chickens and a yard of sausage.  She was still tripping balls when the spider came down so she spent an hour talking existential shit before falling asleep and pissing herself.

 

Why was Hansel and Gretel sent into the woods?

To get some shrooms for Jack because Gretel had a bit of a thing for him and they were all going to get wasted together and see what happened.  Jill is a bit of a prude but you’d be amazed what people will do when they’re off their tits dancing with leprechauns.

 

Who really ate Grandma?

Everyone ate grandma when she was younger.  She would do just about anything for a picnic basket.  She makes Yogi Bear look vegetarian.

What did the Three Little Pigs build their houses out of?

Actually they rented as they were struggling to get a mortgage with the economy being in the state it was.  it wasn’t like they had a job or a deposit.  Unfortunately they had a pretty sketchy landlord who was just in it for the money and really didn’t look after the place which is why they came down so quickly.

What did Little Jack Horner pull out of the pie?

Himself.  Come on you know he did.  Times were harsh but they still ate it because it would be a good waste of pie and with the plague and everything you don’t know when the end will come so you really cannot be too picky about whether it has his special sauce in it or not.

 

What is the true story behind Cinderella?

She had to be gone by 12 because she was on probation for prostitution.  If she got caught cruising the palaces once more it was the stocks for her.

Rumpelstiltskin wasn’t his name…what was it?

Rumpledforeskin.  You’d have thought he’d have gone for something way different like Kyle or Luke maybe but he didn’t want to upset his mother.

 

Now off to bed with me to read stories to the kiddies

Writing Prompts

Since I took to writing about 18 months ago I have loved prompts.  Other people’s words inspiring and challenging me to create something and share it.  My favourite have been M’s which you can see here which I still try and do when I can.

Towards the back end of last year though I found myself thinking that maybe I should consider doing my own prompts for myself and as part of a process see where that took me.  So, I picked up a shiny new notebook that I got for my Birthday and picked up one of my fabulous new Bic pens and started to write whatever came into my head until I had 31 prompts for January.

It was not a particularly long process, and I actually did it sat at my desk at work whilst I was on a rather dull teleconference.  I think it was maybe 20 minutes of work.  Once I have the 31 I then put each as the header on a page and proceeded to jot down an outline or ideas or thoughts inspired by these prompts.  It went surprisingly well and within about 90 minutes I had 31 ideas that I can now turn into something this month.  I hope.

Anyway, whether I finish them or not doesnot matter what mattes is that I have a ton of ideas to use as I get chance.

Oh and then after that I had an idea to take my most favourite album ever and use each of the tracks as the tirle for a short piece.  I haven;t fleshed that out yet but some point in February I hope to put out a dozen pieces all linked to the ‘Blind Man’s Zoo’ album by 10000 Maniacs.

So, in case you are still reading these are what I came up with for the 31 prompts for January.

  1. Butterfly
  2. Firestorm
  3. Flowers of Autumn
  4. Electric Dreams
  5. Once upon a never
  6. Twice shy
  7. Turbulence
  8. Tears of night
  9. Wednesday
  10. Last orders
  11. Overtime
  12. Samantha
  13. The cave
  14. Tomorrow’s forever
  15. Beyond the night sky
  16. A place in the dark
  17. The last summer
  18. The first winter
  19. Orbit
  20. Descent
  21. Into Madness
  22. Forever forlorn
  23. Beyond time
  24. Malcolm
  25. Driftwood
  26. Orbital city one
  27. Fear of the dark
  28. Nevermore
  29. All my yesterday’s
  30. Dawn’s light
  31. No more tomorrow

It was a fun exercise and whilst I will still be doing other peoples prompts I enjoyed the feeling of finding all those inspirational thoughts and moments for myself.

Why not try it for yourself and share what you come up with?

 

 

Finish the story – #11

Been meaning to get to this forever. Sorry for my tardiness…

Welcome to Finish the Story

The Haunted Wordsmith started a story, tags someone to pick up the story and add to it, then hand it off to another person, etc., until the story is complete. This has proven to be quite fun in a blogging situation since we all have different approaches.

Rules–

1 Copy the story below as it appears when you receive it (and the rules please)

2 Add somehow to the story in which ever style and length you choose

3 Tag only 1 person

4 If you choose to not participate or finish the story, please comment/tag this post so that The Haunted Wordsmith knows.

The Private Detective

One of the first lessons Eric learned the hard way after leaving the force and going into business for himself was to never ask the client why they wanted his services. The less he knew, the better it was for everyone. Something about this case, and the creepy man who hired him last week, just didn’t sit right though.

As he sat in the old blue Buick flipping through his notes, he saw her coming down the step of the opera house. He snuffed out his fifth camel and started the car. She was all dolled up in a victorian get up. Looked like something out of an H.G. Wells movie. Eric watched as she crossed the street, entered the park, and hailed a carriage.

“Shit!” He couldn’t follow her in the car through the park.

The carriage turned the corner and …

A Guy Called Bloke

… and disappeared from his view!

“Buggerations!” Eric snorted as he quickly got out of the car and hop, skipped and jumped his way across the street into the park. He could just see the end of the carriage as it made its way merrily across the lawn tracks!

As Eric chuffed along behind the carriage, he was becoming more and more startled as he saw smoke billowing from the top of the carriages’ roof, “What on earth?” Eric thought.

After only a few minutes, the carriage came to a standstill beside the fountain of Silver Waters, and she stepped out. Eric quickly hid behind a man selling balloons! He saw her talk to the driver, who doffed his hat and moved the carriage forwards by fifty or so feet before coming to a standstill again.

He watched Vicky [he had called her this because of the garb she had been wearing when he first caught sight of her. He didn’t know her name, Mr Creepy hadn’t passed on that nugget of information, so Vicky would have to do for the time being] walk up to the fountain, and as she approached from within her bulky skirts she withdrew a large bottle of something. The contents he could see were bright green almost luminous!?

“What on earth??” Eric gasped!

Vicky stopped in front of the fountain of Silver Waters and seemed to be speaking to the statue on the top, a funny looking gargoyle [l know, who would have thunk it?] and as she did so, the statue moved and so spake back in a kind of sing song accent and turned  and looked at the balloon seller – who was already becoming quite twitchy as he didn’t usually have another man quite this close to him when hiding!

Suddenly the balloon seller disappeared in a plume of green smoke with silvery tinges and Eric saw the balloons take flight to the skies!

“Blimey! That’s burst my bubble of disguise!” Eric thought, “Now what?”

Meanwhile Vicky and the gargoyle were looking directly at Eric and seemed to be speaking in the language of the elephant shrew [Eric knew this as his Son was studying the very same language in the elephant shrew school – l know how freaky as a coincidence is that?] As Eric tried to look as inconspicuous as possible which was somewhat difficult in his bright yellow zoot suit, Vicky and the gargoyle were speaking rather fast now and as they were doing so, the air around them cracked, and groaned, and creaked – yes creaked! The more Eric looked the more he could see wrinkles appearing before his eyes, the air seemed to be visible, the atmosphere was heavy, was that a portal opening, and was that another Vicky stepping out, was that another Vicky stepping out, was that another Vicky stepping out?

Eric closed his eyes for a moment thinking alternative reality and feeling somewhat faint and when he opened them again …

… he sat on his old Harley flipping through his ipad, he saw her coming down the step of the museum. He snuffed out his twenty second Marlboro and started the Harley. She was all dolled up in a Gothic get up. Looked like something out of an old, well Gothic movie. Eric watched as she crossed the street, entered the zoo, and hailed a camel.

“Chocolate Smarty Cake!” He couldn’t follow her on the bike through the zoo.

The camel turned the corner and Eric thought, Thunder Pants and then he ….

The Britchy One

…..started to feel very giddy. What was going on? He was uncoordinated, disorientated and sank slowly to his knees as he lost consciousness.

He woke with an IV in his arm Ina hospital bed. A nurse was busy with a chart and it took her a minute to realise he was awake.

“Welcome back! You had us all worried for a bit there!” She chirruped. “What happened?” asked Eric “I’ll see if the doctors here to see you” she replied, neatly avoiding his question as she sashayed out of the room. Eric noticed wryly that her scrubs fit in all the right places – obviously he wasn’t too out of it!

He looked around, bored. The room was a bland, beige, instantly forgettable room with a stunning view of a solid brick wall six feet away. If you weren’t sick before you would be after a couple of hours here he thought.

There was a peremptory knock on the door. Before Eric could respond and officious looking man in a bespoke suit walked in. His shoes looked expensive. Handmade burnished Italian leather glowing as only shoes polished by a valet could. His apparel and demeanour screamed upper class like the foghorn on a cross channel ferry.

“So you’re awake” he barked in a short staccato burst of verbal gunfire. “Do you know who you are?” “Yes of course I do”said Eric giving his full name “Why am I here and where are my clothes?”.

“All in good time my man, you were brought in without any identification two days ago. You were dehydrated and had concussion. Let’s get some details shall we? He proceeded to ask Eric’s full address, profession and if he knew what day of the week it was, what year it was and other questions Eric presumed were to assess his cognition. “What happened do you remember?” the man concluded.

Eric’s Mind was a blur. Full of bizarre dreams – or were they?

“I don’t really know” he admitted. “Do you know why you were in the park?” I was following someone on orders from a client.”

The man leaned forward quivering “Ahh and what do you know of this client? he purred.

Just as Eric was about to answer there was a knock at the door. A short tired looking Indian man shuffled in. “Hello I’m sorry to keep you waiting. I’m Doctor Raina”

Wait! exclaimed Eric turning to look at the first man “If this is the doctor then who are you?”….

Mel Gutiér

Just at that moment, everything froze around Eric except for the elegant stranger who seemed familiar to him now. Eric’s mouth opened wide.

“I’m the Time Keeper. You have something of mine. Do you remember what it is? You’ve been jumping from time to time, wandering. It will take you some time, but you’ll remember.”

“What are you talking about? How are you doing all this?”

“Damn! You’ve gone in too deep. I tried explaining it to you. You didn’t give me enough time. You just had to run after her, didn’t you? They’re going to kill you if they find you, you know that?”

“Time Keeper?”

“Eric… you don’t remember the vault? You don’t remember the lock breaking and Lydia disappearing? You don’t remember taking the compass from my office? Eric… you’re in danger and I need the compass back to find Lydia.”

“Stop! You’re a mad man! You’re the devil!”

“You don’t even remember my name, do you?”

“Fuck you!”

Lost and confused, Eric got out of the bed, pushed the stranger aside running out of the room. He became dizzy as he tried walking passed the still figures in the hallway. Indeed, time had stopped somehow. Everyone in the hospital had stopped in their place, their space. The elegant stranger ran after Eric hopeful that he would wake up to full memory. He needed that compass.

“Eric!”

“Leave me alone! I don’t know anything about a compass!”

“I can help you! Just stop for a moment! Let me help you!”

Eric ran outside and stopped in his tracks. He was stupefied. The air seemed to be missing and nothing was moving. Birds locked in midair, sound in a vacuum, a single leaf traveling to the ground was floating still before him. All living things stood motionless before him, as if wax figures stood in their place. Even the motionless buildings looked different, shifted somehow and he noticed a curtain in one of the houses stopped outside its window as if held out by an invisible string, the dead wind. How was this possible? Somewhere in his head a familiar connection began to emerge. He knew something about this magic, but it was still a blur.

“I’m Logan. I’m your Time Keeper. You’re a time traveler. We try to set things right in the world.”

The elegant stranger, a stranger no more, put his hand on Eric’s shoulder. Eric’s breath was heavy, and his mind was racing in the still of time. Something began to stir in him as he turned to look at Logan. His breath grew stronger and he broke down in tears.

“Lydia!” He gasped.

“Yes! You’re remembering! It’s okay… it takes time. You’ve been through a lot. You’ve traveled for months looking for her, chasing the wrong woman. I had to get you to stop somehow. This was the only way.”

“What?”

“The institution, the visions. The client.”

“The client… he has your compass.”

“No! What did you do?”

“I don’t know! I don’t know. Oh God!”

“That was no client, Eric! Do you realize what they’re capable of doing with that compass! If they have Lydia, if they touch her… Eric! You have to remember where that client is. We have to get that compass back!”

Eric looked at Logan, took one last breath and disappeared. Logan fell to his knees as everything came back to normal. Movement… time resumed, but Eric was gone… again.

 

Michael @ Afterwards

Eric watched the tea lap against the edge of the mug as he dropped in another cube of sugar with a reassuring ‘plink’.  His mother had always said what when in doubt sit down and have some tea, preferably in a cup and saucer, and it will help to put things into perspective.

Unfortunately the diner didn’t have any saucers, or decent china cups for that matter, so he settled for a plain white mug of something approaching a loose description of tea and some silent introspection.

A large breasted, friendly faced waitress walked over and asked him if he was ready to order.  Eric shook his head.

“No thanks, just the tea will be fine thank you.”

“Suit yourself darlin, you let me know if you change your mind now'” she said with a wink and a smile and sauntered back over to the long counter that ran the length of the room.  He continued to watch as she took a pot of coffee and filled a cup for herself.

Returning to his thoughts Eric took a sip of his tea and considered recent events, not least how he had ended up in the diner, fully clothed and with a pocket full of cash.  As diners do it was a nice enough place, stereotypically so in fact with just the right amount of plaid shirted trucker looking types, chequer board flooring and a good selection of pies.

He searched his memories but could not remember how he had got here.  Staring out of the large window into the half full car park beyond he stirred the tea again, allowing fragments of memories to come back to him.  The spoon swirled through the hot dark liquid as mysterious strangers compelled him, gaping hospital gowns left him feeling rather exposed and the smoking of rather a lot of cigarettes left him feeling that perhaps some life changes might well be in order.

The memories were jumbled and overlapping, nothing seemed to be in the right place and everything seemed to contradict itself.  There was also a most uncomfortable feeling that he had lost something and really needed to find it.

He looked up as the waitress walked past again and smiled.  He smiled back and noticed her name badge.

‘Lydia’.  Nice name he thought…

Tagging: Dorinda @ Night Owl Poetry

 

 

 

Toilet Paper Troubles

Read this before I am forced to delete it…

M has another month of fab prompts that you can see here

Today it is Toilet paper troubles.


 

I saw the prompt and my mind instantly went back to an event a few years ago now that you might like.  You also might not but it’s a true story either way.

It was a lovely summers day and I remember being sat in the living room, as we English are prone to do when we have good weather, when my eldest could be heard laughing hysterically at the top of the stairs.  I’m talking out of control belly laugh.  He was about 7 at the time, and Tom my youngest about 4.

“What’s so funny Sam” I shout up the stairs and he can’t answer, simply pointing down the stairs and out into the garden.  I looked and was at first uncertain until I noticed Tom wandering around the garden with his trousers around his ankles trailing a good ten feet of soiled toilet paper behind him hanging from his bottom.

Obviously my first instinct was to grab my camera to get a good video and as Sam continued to howl hysterically I headed down the garden to capture the moment for posterity.

At this point my wife was alerted to something going on and I heard a cry of distress from the upstairs window an the thundering of feet down the stairs as sh and Sam hurried down the back steps and into the garden too.

“What the bloody hell is going on” she shouted *or something like that) “and why the hell are you filming it and not cleaning up.  Curiously that wasn’t a question that had crossed my mind.  Perhaps that just shows how different men and women are.

Before I know it a hasty investigation reveals that Sam had tossed Tom a loo roll when he said he needed to go (we only had one loo  in the house at the time which Sam was using) and told him to go in the garden.  Which Tom did.

“Get some carrier bags” she says to me “and put that bloody camera away.”

The look on her face suggested that she was not to be trifled with so I hurried into the house returning with bags to use to clean up the mess.  By this point Tom had pointed out where he had relieved himself and the wife took one of the bags to pick up his leavings. 

Probably should point out at this point that I have a quite terrible gag reflex and am prone to heaving and lurching at the sight of bodily fluids which would explain why I begin to gag, eyes watering, as she attempts to pick up the remains of Tom’s lunch. 

“Just help will you and pick up that toilet roll” she says pointing to the yards of soiled twin ply littering the garden.  I respond by gagging uncontrollably as I near it, which in turns sets off Sam who himself starts to gag.

“What is wrong with you people” she shouts as we both stand there gagging as she ties the bag full of Toms number two but this sight is simply too much for Sam who suddenly starts to projectile vomit across the garden.

“Oh god no “ she shouts panicked clutching a bag of the youngest’s poo as I crack up unable to do anything other that alternate between laughing and gagging, “Just help will you, god what are the neighbours going to think.”

At this point we were about to find out not what the neighbours thought but certainly what their dog thought as she trotted along and quite merrily began to eat Sam’s vomit.

It is all very much a blur from that point on but I know there was screaming and shouting and the dog looked most satisfied with whatever Sam had had for lunch and I eventually stopped gagging though it was too late to recover the position.

It wasn’t long after that we started planning to have the second bathroom put in.

 

 

 

#FOWC – Inertia

Fandango has kindly provided the prompt: “Inertia”.

Going to try do these in 500 words or less I think and use them to try a few new ideas and see if anything sticks.  A bit like the room 101 stuff  – they may be starts, or ends or middles.  We shall see.


 

Gill clled to McCabe as he stood staring out into the inky blackness of space.  “Captain, sub light inertia drives have gone off line due to a massive solar burst.  Switching to impulse.  We will breach real time barrier in 60 seconds.”

The deck shook as McCabe walked over to his chair and buckled in.  After 6 years they were so close to being home, this was the last thing they needed.  He punched the comms button on the arm of his chair and a siren blared out across the ship.

“All crew brace for real time barrier breach in 30 seconds.”  He looked back at Gill.  “Bring us out gently son.”

The Aspidistra lurched as she slowed, every atom of the ship and those within her stretched across the immeasurable expanses between the stars that powered the ship.  McCabe held his hand up to his face and watched it dissolve into a million stars before his eyes and then reform as they smashed through into real time.

“System status ” he barked, the massive ship still shaking.

Jennan the second office scanned the battery of screens before him.  “All systems online Sir, real time confirmed – Sol cycle 2245.”

“Gill, location please.”

McCabe waited before asking again.

“Gill, please confirm location.”

Gill turned slowly.  “Captain – we’re about three weeks out from Earth on impulse drives sir, just short of Mars orbit.”

The look on his face told him there was more.  He unbuckled his belt and strode over to where Gill sat behind a bank of screens.

“Spit it out lad what is it.” He said trying to interpret the data flooding across the displays in front of him.”

Gill knew that if not for McCabe none of them would be here, they all knew that.  The war with the Va-a had taken it’s toll but he’d promised to bring them home and he was a man of his word.

“I’m sorry sir” he said “but were too late.  She’s already gone.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

https://wordpress.com/read/blogs/128784227/posts/17390

A Sprinkle of Balderdash

M has another month of fab prompts that you can see here

Today it is A sprinkle of Balderdash.


For those of you who might have seen my blog in the last month you will have seen that I wrote a 30000 word story, day by day using M’s prompts. Given that my preferred medium of expression is the glorious 5 lines of a limerick, and the longest post I have ever done was about 500 words, I am not sure where the confidence came from but there you go.

Mostly it started out as waffle and balderdash but as the month went on I really rather enjoyed it and whilst it is not quite the 50000 words NANOWRIMO might ask of you it’s a start, so I thought I would share a few thoughts on the experience.

  • It was so important to make sure I wrote every day. I got behind after a weekend of enjoying the royal wedding and it was so hard to catch up so should I do it again I would ensure that time is put aside at all costs.
  • I discovered afterwards that there are two types of writers. Those that plan and the ‘pantsers’. ‘Pantsers’ are apparently people who make fly by the seat of their pants and plan very little. I think I lean more towards being a ‘pantser’.
  • Encouragement really matters. Those wonderful people amongst you who took time to read and comment, M for just doing the prompts, Dronsta who really helped with advice or people on Twitter who posted things on their own timelines which I found encouraging – it all really motivated me when I was struggling.
  • Editing can come later, this was pretty much a public first draft but getting the draft down became such a motivator. I can now revisit and do whatever I want with it but it is mine to play with at my leisure.
  • I had only ever written short flash fiction pieces before and the idea of writing 1000 words was massive daunting for me but day by day, line by line, I found that the stamina built pretty quickly and by the end I could churn out an unedited 2500 words in about an hour and a half.
  • When I completed it I wished I was a dog because It was such a thrill that I would happily have licked my own bollocks, and not just for hygiene reasons I tell you.
  • For a few days afterwards I have found it really hard to write. Oddly I found myself going through quite a few emotions having put so much into something over a short period. At times I felt stupid for doing it, others proud, and I really missed it which made doing anything else feel pointless. I did a bit of reading and this is apparently normal it seems.

So, if you’re wondering whether you can do it, absolutely you can just put some time aside, find people to support you and write, write, write…

A twinge of fate – March Prompts 25/31

A brief meander

M’s writing prompts for March came with the following instructions:

“…set your timer for ten minutes and begin writing about one of the prompts listed below. Don’t worry about spelling, punctuation, neatness, or anything like that; just write!”

Let us see what whimsical nonsense I can whip up in ten minutes…

You can see the prompts here.


I’m not a believer in predestination, but I know people are, and that’s great.  In fact, I am not a believer in much other than what I can see or what can be proven.

I used to believe in all sorts of stuff, but no more.  I gave that lark up a few years ago and whilst I’m still working on parts of what I believe I find that mostly, beyond that which can be proven, I think we’re a huge stroke of luck and in this mind mindbogglingly large universe we are very much a ripple in a vast ocean of  chance.

Now I know I should probably have a better answer than that but you know what, I don’t.  A friend of mine insists we are here for a good time not a long time and I like that.  I am not talking pure hedonistic pleasures, simply the pursuit of that which makes you happy.

I reckon that when we’re dead we are simply no more and whatever energy courses through us is released when we are disposed of in which ever way we might choose.

I know it is simple and that lots of people have compelling arguments to the contrary but I don’t really care because I have found a peace that I never had at any other point in my life and I’m rather happy with that.

 

 

 

Dribbles of delight – March Prompts 24/31

Not at all about ejaculation. Honest.

M’s writing prompts for March came with the following instructions:

“…set your timer for ten minutes and begin writing about one of the prompts listed below. Don’t worry about spelling, punctuation, neatness, or anything like that; just write!”

Let us see what whimsical nonsense I can whip up in ten minutes…

You can see the prompts here.


 

There are times when a prompt will pop up ad I simply think to myself “No Michael, you know how this is going to turn out so just stop right there.”

I don’t have a particularly filthy mind, but I do like to say what I think.  I take a degree of pride in pushing boundaries, testing sensibilities and poking things that should not be poked.  I do however do my best to do so with a degree of humour and a modicum of taste.

I shall therefore leave this one be and just move along quietly because I do still have a certain amount of self control.

Just to be clear in case you were wondering though, it was going to be a toss up between a poem about a chap with an extreme case of premature ejaculation or a woman who discovers the joys of female ejaculation for the first time.

Problem was, for the latter at least, I would have needed to do some research and the wife and kids use my laptop quite regularly so I really did not fancy having to explain the content of my browser to either.

It’s a pity really because lush, rush and gush all rhyme quite wonderfully and you know I would have loved the opportunity to explain that “With shock and surprise, it flew into his eyes, and he screamed “help I think I’ve gone blind!”

But I won’t, because I am better than that…

Nonsensical Hodgepodge – March Prompts 23/31

Curtain twitchers beware

M’s writing prompts for March came with the following instructions:

“…set your timer for ten minutes and begin writing about one of the prompts listed below. Don’t worry about spelling, punctuation, neatness, or anything like that; just write!”

Let us see what whimsical nonsense I can whip up in ten minutes…

You can see the prompts here.


Squirty McWhirty was really quite dirty

And Rodger her husband quite plain

He would dream of steam trains

They would fill up his brain

Whilst his wife quite love filth, kink and pain

 

Next door lived the Cooks she was obsessed with books

While her fella was quite into Cars

And they seemed quite at peace

The plain folk on the street

Though he also quite loved wearing bras

 

Down at house 22 there was Mr Rabu

Who’s wife disappeared last May

He said she was in Spain

But go check out the drain

You’ll find parts still not quite washed away

 

And they all quite suspect that there’s likely a sect

Who reside at the house near the park

Theres odd comings and goings

Nasty toings and froings

And oft candles and screams in the dark

 

Then there’s Darren and Paul who both work at the Mall

Vegans both, own a really nice home

But when push comes to shove

You know they’re so in love

Don’t like meat but they sure love the bone

 

A quite curious lot I assume that you’ve got

A good feel for the folk on this street

But don’t judge please be kind

We’re all different you’ll find

Smile and nod if you ever do meet

Sniffles and Snuffles – March Prompts 22/31

Vegetarians may object. The carnivores may not.

M’s writing prompts for March came with the following instructions:

“…set your timer for ten minutes and begin writing about one of the prompts listed below. Don’t worry about spelling, punctuation, neatness, or anything like that; just write!”

Let us see what whimsical nonsense I can whip up in ten minutes…

You can see the prompts here.


Sniffles and snuffles

fat pigs that love truffles

And turnips and carrots and swedes

They’ll eat slops and scoff bread

Cabbage both green and red

And leftovers and all that you leave

 

They think wow what a life

With this farmer and wife

As they roll in the mud oh such bliss

Every day they grow fat

What is better that that

They insist what a great life is this

 

Then one day Truffles aint there

Snuffles, nose in the air

Does despair but’s distracted as hell

For aroma divine

Cooking flesh of the swine

Snuffles slavers oh my what a smell…

 

 

Fiddlesticks – March Prompts 21/31

Oh how very horrid.

M’s writing prompts for March came with the following instructions:

“…set your timer for ten minutes and begin writing about one of the prompts listed below. Don’t worry about spelling, punctuation, neatness, or anything like that; just write!”

Let us see what whimsical nonsense I can whip up in ten minutes…

You can see the prompts here.


He dances round the subject

of just where he was last night

there is lipstick on his collar

and she hopes that he just might

this time tell her something honest

and perhaps he’ll see the light

but he says was with his mates so she replies

….

Fiddle sticks balderdash and a dose of nincompoop

Piles of twaddle loads of tosh and a massive load of bollocks

So much gubbins endless waffle and a steaming pile of nonsense

Pointless drivel stupid dribble and a total crock of shite

Ruby Red – March Prompts 20/31

Oh how very horrid.

M’s writing prompts for March came with the following instructions:

“…set your timer for ten minutes and begin writing about one of the prompts listed below. Don’t worry about spelling, punctuation, neatness, or anything like that; just write!”

Let us see what whimsical nonsense I can whip up in ten minutes…

You can see the prompts here.


Ruby red she swirls and spins

And craves a life he cannot give

And laughter peaks and frantic dips

Entranced by eyes and heart and hips

 

Each day and night he toils and strains

To please her hunger as it grows

Voraciaous she devours it all

And never sated death does call

 

Worth more in the ground than with beating heart

with greed consumed she seeks to feast

And so she schemes and plots and plans

His life to take with blood soiled hands

 

And with widows sorrow she does weep

as slowly lowered into the ground

and ruby red heart swirls and leaps

all that was his now hers to keep

Antsy Pantsy – March Prompts 19/31

Oh how very horrid.

M’s writing prompts for March came with the following instructions:

“…set your timer for ten minutes and begin writing about one of the prompts listed below. Don’t worry about spelling, punctuation, neatness, or anything like that; just write!”

Let us see what whimsical nonsense I can whip up in ten minutes…

You can see the prompts here.


They crawled up his leg and then into his bottom

And there they did live in his innards quite rotten

For long was he dead in a battle forgotten

And now he’d returned for revenge

 

With such ants in his pants and a six rats in his bowels

He would walk through the night and quite hungry he howls

And a brain full of worms in control of his vowels

He would mumble for b-b–b-brains

 

He would seek little kids quite delicious and plump

With an eye full of spiders and a rather bug lump

On his face from the wasps than would sure make you jump

When they flew from his mouth like a storm

 

And his fingers quite rotten and tongue chewed away

Beetles covered his flesh and he strode night and day

To find children to eat who’d  perhaps lost their way

and to hell drag their sweet little souls

Pink Poodles – March Prompts 18/31

Oh surely not…

M’s writing prompts for March came with the following instructions:

“…set your timer for ten minutes and begin writing about one of the prompts listed below. Don’t worry about spelling, punctuation, neatness, or anything like that; just write!”

Let us see what I can do in ten minutes…

You can see the prompts here.


Old Artemis Bilge fine purveyor of poodles

Loved them so much that he ate them with noodles

With fresh veg and soy sauce he scoffed oodles and oodles

and for pudding fresh strawberries and cream

He would slow roast a leg and eat it as a starter

With pickles and fennel and mustard or tartar

And sometimes on a sandwich with cheese and tomato

Licked his fingers, such tastes quite supreme

Late at night to his fridge he would head tummy rumbling

And with platters of neck, thigh and flank he’d head stumbling

Back to bed where he’d gorge ‘till his tummy stopped grumbling

Then to sleep and of poodles to dream

Mounds of Mush – March Prompts 17/31

Hopefully just 4 rather gross lines…

M’s writing prompts for March came with the following instructions:

“…set your timer for ten minutes and begin writing about one of the prompts listed below.  Don’t worry about spelling, punctuation, neatness, or anything like that; just write!”

Let us see what I can do in ten minutes…

You can see the prompts here.


Seething writhing piles of rancid filth

Maggots thrash hungrily and gorge on rotting flesh

Where once there was life now putrification reigns

And death’s foul breath belches and cackles

Guzzling Gary – March Prompts 16/31

My what a big appetite you have.

M’s writing prompts for March came with the following instructions:

“…set your timer for ten minutes and begin writing about one of the prompts listed below.  Don’t worry about spelling, punctuation, neatness, or anything like that; just write!”

Let us see what I can do in ten minutes…

You can see the prompts here.


Guzzling Gary likes pies

And hes rather fond of meat

Oh he really loves chips

And thinks snake meat quite a treat

He will eat a bag of raddish

And he’ll quaff a pint of soup

See him down a foot of sausage

Eat spaghetti, straight or loop

He will neck a quart of ice cream

Followed by a glass of sherry

And eat burgers by the fistful

Followed by a pound of cherry

Then it’s onto quail and liver

Lightly braised and served with veg

And some monkey and a lizard

And a squirrel from a hedge

Then perhaps a baby llama

And a bisque made from some cats

And a stew made from some puppies

Or some dumplings stuffed with bats

Oh and see him eat a whale steak

And a platypus on rye

Lick the juices from a goldfish

And bake hamsters in a pie

And then turtle stuffed with budgies

then some parrots braised with figs

but for daft religious reason

theres no bacon, its from pigs

Stitches of Glitches – March Prompts 15/31

A quickie indeed.

M’s writing prompts for March came with the following instructions:

“…set your timer for ten minutes and begin writing about one of the prompts listed below.  Don’t worry about spelling, punctuation, neatness, or anything like that; just write!”

Let us see what I can do in ten minutes…

You can see the prompts here.


Crackle of interference

Space and time ripped asunder

And the night lights up lightning and thunder

 

Wormholes spin and fill the sky

And mothers scream and children run

Nowhere to go our time is done

 

And through swarm hordes of creatures dark

And feast on flesh and gnaw on bone

Like locusts into every home

 

Through glitch in time and space they’re drawn

They can’t be stopped they know no rest

‘till all’s devoured galaxies pest

 

Sun blotted out fields turned to red

And mankind wiped out in a blink

Like water swirling down the sink

Bootles Beetles – March Prompts 14/31

A witches curse…

M’s writing prompts for March came with the following instructions:

“…set your timer for ten minutes and begin writing about one of the prompts listed below.  Don’t worry about spelling, punctuation, neatness, or anything like that; just write!”

Let us see what I can do in ten minutes…

You can see the prompts here.


Bootles beetles grubs and grime

Pinch of madness dash of time

What once was yours shall soon be mine

and you shall be distraught

 

A splash of envy, fist of hate

A ruptured spleen and twist of fate

Never on time and always late

In her web are you caught

 

And to her will you’ll surely bend

No stitch in time your soul to mend

And sadness is your only friend

So heed the lesson taught

 

Or you will find as time goes by

All will be lost in blink of eye

Your days to waste and lonely die

A life that’s lived for naught

Pouty and Plump – March Prompts 12/31

The poor lass.

M’s writing prompts for March came with the following instructions:

“…set your timer for ten minutes and begin writing about one of the prompts listed below.  Don’t worry about spelling, punctuation, neatness, or anything like that; just write!”

Let us see what I can do in ten minutes…

You can see the prompts here.


Once a fellow met twins

who embodied most sins

and he nicknamed them Pouty and Plump

One had full vacuum lips

and the other round hips

and they’d once spent a night with Don Trump

 

That’s about as far as I got in ten minutes.  I toyed with all sorts of ideas and all I could manage was that and whilst it probably hasn’t gone too far yet it probably would have.  Sometimes when I write the first idea I have is what makes it to the page and that idea can dominate to such an extent that no other will shift it and that was the case with this one.

The thing is, I made a conscious effort to remove the twat that is Donald from my writing a month or two ago now and apart from perhaps one or two slips have found myself in a much happier place because of it.  I removed him from my twitter as best I could and made a real effort to simply not consider anything to do with him.

I am sure there are many arguments for and against my approach and I am sure they are all pretty compelling but for me, right now, I like ignorance.  It is bliss after all.

 

 

 

 

Jelly Jars – March Prompts 12/31

Of all the things you hold most dear.

M’s writing prompts for March came with the following instructions:

“…set your timer for ten minutes and begin writing about one of the prompts listed below.  Don’t worry about spelling, punctuation, neatness, or anything like that; just write!”

Let us see what I can do in ten minutes…

You can see the prompts here.


There is a man with jelly jars

Keeps babies teeth and fallen stars

And virgins tears and la-de-das

And fathers best cigars

 

Into your home he sneaks at night

And steals the things you hold so tight

And harvests thought both dark and light

And steals them without fight

 

And when you wake it feels amiss

You cant remember your first kiss

You thought you had more cash than this

and fear replaces bliss

 

and so he steals your dreams and plans

and time and love holds in his hands

lets slip away like grains of sands

and returns to distant lands

Billowy Breezes – March Prompts 11/31

Truly scraping the bottom of the barrel here…I should be ashamed.

M’s writing prompts for March came with the following instructions:

“…set your timer for ten minutes and begin writing about one of the prompts listed below.  Don’t worry about spelling, punctuation, neatness, or anything like that; just write!”

Let us see what I can do in ten minutes…

You can see the prompts here.


There was once was a fellow called billowy breezes

His real name was  Bob and he shits when he sneezes

So great is the force that it buckles his kneeses

And bent over he tends to explode

 

“Can’t be helped” he insists when he’s asked on the matter

One time at a wedding the bride he did splatter

Caked a kitty in turds left her fur quite in tatters

When one day he was crossing the road

 

If he’s sniffly at work folk will run and take cover

He once exploded so hard the filth knocked a man over

Hes quite famous, once painted the white cliffs of dover

After eating some chillis he’d growed

 

So watch out if you see him take care and beware

It not really his fault and yes people will stare

You should not walk behind him on the way up the stair

Just in case he happens to unload

 

Powder Blue – March Prompts 10/31

The poor lass.

M’s writing prompts for March came with the following instructions:

“…set your timer for ten minutes and begin writing about one of the prompts listed below.  Don’t worry about spelling, punctuation, neatness, or anything like that; just write!”

Let us see what I can do in ten minutes…

You can see the prompts here.


 

In powder blue a true delight

Her belly full her clothes quite tight

He knocked her up hes doing right

And marrying it seems

 

She loves him so, he thinks he might

Just love her back but late last night

He met this girl oh quite a sight

she quite fulfilled his dreams

 

well dreams may be a wee bit trite

they fondled in the pale moonlight

and to her place they headed right

and devious thoughts he schemes

 

And home at crack of new day light

inside he tries to tread so light

but she’s aware and now his plight

is far worse that it seems

 

He tries to lie but gets a fright

As on his neck she left a bite

no longer he her shining knight

Tears replace loves beams

A tisket for a tasket – March Prompts 9/31

Imagine it being sung as a nursery rhyme by a creepy little child as it plays with a broken doll.

M’s writing prompts for March came with the following instructions:

“…set your timer for ten minutes and begin writing about one of the prompts listed below.  Don’t worry about spelling, punctuation, neatness, or anything like that; just write!”

Let us see what I can do in ten minutes…

You can see the prompts here.


 

A tisket for a tasket throw your mother in a basket

Put the basket in the fire watch the flames as they grow high

 

A tisket for a tasket put the baby in the basket

Watch the baby sail away and then rule the land one day

 

A tisket for a tasket push the boat man in a basket

Put the basket in the river watch him drown and watch him shiver

 

A tisket for a tasket put the lover in a basket

Pop the basket in the pot serve the lover piping hot

 

A tisket for a tasket shove the father in the basket

Hang the basket from the tree watch him jig and dance with glee

 

A tisket for a tasket lay yourself down in the casket

Put the casket in the ground there you can’t make any sound.

 

Punch Drunk – March Prompts 8/31

Wincing, eyes blinking, afraid and never thinking

M’s writing prompts for March came with the following instructions:

“…set your timer for ten minutes and begin writing about one of the prompts listed below.  Don’t worry about spelling, punctuation, neatness, or anything like that; just write!”

Let us see what I can do in ten minutes…

You can see the prompts here.


 

Wincing, eyes blinking

Afraid and never thinking

Using, abusing

just cover up the bruising

aching, shaking

giving never taking

violent, silent

need to be compliant

pretending, never ending

in time the flesh is mending

beneath covers, lost lovers

from this he won’t recover