I've mentioned The hallowed waste in the previous post, and since it wouldn't fit into a proper category, here you go;
Many men were on the hill
They were standing, quiet and still
"Listen to me", said the Lord
"I will tell you what to know"
"We shall listen! O our Lord
Tell us, from what we're grown!"
Said the men and waited for
An answer that they prayed for
"I do tell you all the truth,
Though it'll take all your youth
Choose a leader out o' you!"
And so they did as He spoke
"My name is John, me Lord"
Introduc'd himself aboard
"Only thou hear'st my word
There shall not be girl, a third"
"Thy born was not a plan
I designed all the plants
I try'd berries and rye
They were fine and made me shite"
"O Lord, I might mishear'd
I an't sure o' thy words
Dost thou say 'shite' me Lord
or my ears do kid me now?"
"Every and more, true, indeed
'Tis the truth o' how you're made
There were lands and sky was lit
And men made out o'"
"Holy shit!"
Writing began at 08 nov 2021 and was put on hold for the better part of 2022 until publishing.
Throughout my years as a writer, I found myself unable to write on command. Every time I am faced with restrictions, deadlines or the possibility of working with unlike-minded individuals, whether it is a short story, a song or as simple as a letter, my mind seems to freeze and to actively deter inspiration, preventing ideas to form and prosper in what otherwise would be the perfect habitat for them...
tenpo li ante e jan e ma.
tenpo li awen e nasa e tan.
pona li sama pona lon ma ona,
la mi wile e ike li wile ala e pona.
I'm lost in the light
I'm lusting the void
People around me
Are nothing, but noise
I am surrounded
There's nowhere to go
The lack of the bright
Is where I feel home
Written at 17 August 2021
"No!" The angry student exclaimed, "I told you already! This is it! I refuse to change any of it!" He threw his papers in the air and stormed out of the lecture hall.
"What was that about?" asked the curious bystander, who helped Mark to pick up the angry student's essay.
"Just another art student refusing criticism," he said as he looked at his empty wrist, "do you know what time is it?"
"It's 11:05," she revealed with morbid casualty.
Written for 24 hour flash story writing competition, given theme was Ruthless Ambition.