Quixotic (poem)

Quixotic

I’ll never stop

chasing the ideal

of love

call me a fool

call me idealistic

call me a dreamer

call me quixotic

whatever, I’ll

still believe

Joanne Fisher

Word count: 26

This was written with the prompt quixotic provided by Sammi Cox’s Weekend Writing Prompt #186.

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©️2020 Joanne Fisher

The Perfect Song (flash fiction)

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The Perfect Song

 

Julie sat on her bed with her guitar composing a new song. As she strummed and worked out what she wanted to say, she thought again of Hannah. She loved Hannah and was trying to write her a love song that would do justice to her beautiful soul. What did it matter that Hannah had told her that her attentions were unwelcome? She couldn’t just give up her feelings like that, so she resolved to write the song that would win Hannah over. This was the one, she was certain of it….

 

Joanne Fisher

 

Word count: 91 + prompt

 

This story was an afterthought. When I was looking for an image yesterday for the story I had written, I stumbled across this picture and immediately thought of a story that could accompany it. Which is why I’ve written a second story for this prompt.

 

This was written with the prompt unwelcome provided by Sammi Cox’s Weekend Writing Prompt #163.

 

 

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©2020 Joanne Fisher

 

 

 

 

Clarice (flash fiction)

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Clarice

 

She said her name was Clarice. We had arranged to meet in a café. In the end, she was thirty minutes late when she finally turned up. I don’t know why I waited for so long. I had already decided that she wasn’t coming.

Her skin was pale and her hair was long and dark. She had green eyes that seemed to shine in the dull light. I was feeling annoyed when she arrived and sat down before me. Her incandescent smile alone was enough for me to forgive her. So I stayed, and slowly we fell in love.

 

Joanne Fisher

 

 

This was written with the prompt Clarice provided by the Carrot Ranch March 5 Flash Fiction Challenge.

 

 

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©2020 Joanne Fisher

Thought Disorder

Last year I fell in love with someone I shouldn’t have. She already had a partner and early on she just saw me as a friend, until it all got weird. It created all sorts of issues. But I can’t choose who I have feelings for. My problem is when I fall for someone my feelings go very deep and are hard to get rid of. The only thing that works is time and letting the feelings die but that can take a long while, even years. And though there are some days I’m fine, there are also many days where she is on my mind and on these days I have to hold tight and weather the storm. The best thing I can do is keep myself occupied and in fact this whole blog is just one really big attempt to stop me thinking about her, or at least help me get over the bad days when I’m feeling a lot of emotional pain, as I am today. But at least I’ve been constructive with my time.

When I look back at the last year I’m really proud of the stuff I’ve written and the projects I’ve started and finished. A year ago I didn’t think I would be putting up my own fiction on this blog as I’m doing now. It really just started as articles of things that interested me and my poetry. I think it’s proof that some good can be created out of a bad experience or situation. If I wasn’t able to write or express myself I would have finished myself off a long time ago I suspect, as I almost did last year. If I hadn’t survived I would never have completed my sequences The Return or Volcano City, and what is rapidly becoming my first ever completed novel, The Sky-Pirates of Durn, would never have come to be written. Sometimes you never realise the value of holding on.

I do often wonder how she is doing. I have no idea if she is reading my posts or ignoring them, but I imagine it’s probably the latter, even though if it wasn’t for her they may have never been written. A lot of great work was probably also created by similar circumstances. I think there are many artists and writers that were left behind or unwanted and this helped fuel their creativity.

The title of this post comes from the song Thought Disorder by the New Zealand group Tall Dwarfs. Listen to it here.

Has unrequited or lost love caused you to create work you are now proud of?

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Falling In Love (repost)

 

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Falling In Love

 

it’s those smiles she beams at you

when she serves flat-whites & toasted bagels

that makes you notice her

 

her face shimmers as if

under the layer of skin

there is a clear light

making her translucent

 

eventually you muster the courage

to ask her out fearful

her face might suddenly

succumb to frost

 

“I was wondering if you…”

 

& when she says “Yes!”

your heart detonates

 

the world opens up into light

as if you so willed it

you could just float away

& walk amongst pristine white clouds

the tides rising in your heart

you grin like the village idiot

 

you go out to the pictures

you walk home with her

the dark hides you both as you hold hands

& cars race furiously past

 

then on the porch

your arms wrap around each other

as the night sky enfolds the hills

 

you hope this will be

a happy ever after

 

Joanne Fisher

 

 

This is a re-post of a poem I published here in November 2017.

I was planning to post another chapter of The Sky-Pirates of Durn, but something has happened. I was on YouTube and my computer suddenly went crazy. Since then I have done deep scans and it has shown nothing. It may be a hardware issue, I don’t know, but it’s going to make typing out another chapter incredibly difficult and frustrating. I’ll show you what’s happening:

If I don’t bother editing it c3om7es out looking like this.9 If I use num7bers z1-.9 this is waht happens: z1x2c3v456m7,8.9. And it seem7s to be getting worse.9 If you hav4e any ideas about what to do let m7e know.9 I m7ay hav4e to take it som7ewhere to be fix2ed and that will take tim7e and m7oney I don’t hav4e.9

Secondly: I’ve tried to avoid adding a donations button to my posts, but I’m finding things really difficult at the moment. All donations will be greatly recieved 🙂

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True Story (poem)

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True Story

 

the first time

you meet her

you’re captivated –

caught in the orbit

of a brilliant new sun

 

she is stuck in your thoughts

you hope you’re in hers

 

every time you meet

you seem full of electricity

you just want to be there

reflecting her radiance…

 

then one day she is gone

& you are lost

 

in the sub-light hours

waking from strange dreams

you imagine she is there

her arms wrapped around –

a layer to protect you from the world

 

but she is not there

she will never be there

her eyes now cold

as a starless void

 

you hope she will text, call,

or something

your happiness slowly falls

away

 

you will survive this… barely

you will cry, you will fall apart

& yet she is always there

 

you wake up alone

hoping you can let her go.

 

 

Joanne Fisher

 

 

This poem was something I had to write to help get it out of my system. I haven’t really been in the mood to continue writing the story I’m working on or various articles I have planned, hence all the poetry at the moment. They’re all there worked out in my head, but at the moment I’m just chilling doing other things. I recently gave up smoking as I could no longer afford it and it was cutting into my food budget which meant I was going hungry a lot of the time and I think this is affecting my ability to sit down and write for long periods. Once all the nicotine cravings are gone I’m sure I’ll be writing long screeds of text again… 🙂

The Direction of the Road (poem)

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Mount Cook National Park, New Zealand

As it is Valentine’s Day I thought I would share a love poem, not that I have that many love poems that I’ve written left to post here. This poem does have the word love in it, so it counts in my reckoning. The title of this poem is stolen from an Ursula K. Le Guin short story, and it is not the only poem I’ve done this with.

 

The Direction of the Road

(for Steph)

 

we are following the road

not exactly knowing

where it is leading us …

 

downwards

to black tunnels rolling into

the strata of the earths crust or

upwards

to weaving black hawks

tearing up the blue sky

 

the wind tousling your

marram grass hair

 

now you are drumming

your bone fingers

on a red formica table

nervous energy

you say

as thin clear light

dances through the café

we discuss a thing

called love & other

stuff

 

perhaps we are lost

 

in these deep sea-green

chambers

 

lost like poems

 

unable to rise

out of sleep

 

Joanne Fisher

 

 

 

Morning Love (poem)

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I can feel summer coming

bursting the flowers open

warming the old bones

of the earth

 

above a fighter jet sears

a long white scar on the

unblemished sky

 

this morning we have

scrambled eggs together

a golden yellow on

wholemeal toast

after we had been

through the night

consuming each other

 

the new light floods

through the windows

reflecting in your burning

sapphire eyes & shimmering

blond hair

 

love…

 

roll that word around

succinctly in your mouth

for a while

 

on a morning like this

it tastes so sweet

 

Joanne Fisher