Hoarding (Terrible Poetry Contest)

Hoarding

 

I.

 

I thought this world crisis was a bit of a caper

and soon the long lines for goods would taper

but when I still go the store

there’s always so many more

all I’ve got left to eat is my stack of loo paper

 

II.

 

Due to the virus Bill hoarded beans

as stacks of them were within his means

but after eating so many cans

his butt alone could power vans

and he had to frequently wash his jeans

 

 

Joanne Fisher

 

These “gems” were written for Chelsea Owens’s Terrible Poetry Competition. This weeks prompt was writing a limerick about stockpiling against a worldwide disaster.

 

Seriously I hope everyone is doing okay at the moment. I’ve not really mentioned the current state of affairs as I feel I’m being bombarded with more than enough information about the Coronavirus and its spread. My country is forcing visitors to two weeks of isolation. So far we’ve only had eight cases and no deaths thankfully. Think of my blog as a place to go for an interesting diversion from all the current issues besetting our world right now…

 

 

Please donate! 🙂

 

 

©2020 Joanne Fisher

 

 

CCC#69: The Mistake (poem)

 

The Mistake

 

 

The two gnomes did silently creep one night

into the Witch’s grounds, the moon so bright

they planned to raid her garden for food

which would put the Witch in a foul mood

 

“Surely the Witch is here and will see us!”

one said to the other scared of a fuss.

“No, she left on her broom some days ago

and hasn’t returned, so she can’t say no.”

 

Unknown to them both, the Witch had returned

on her broom earlier that day feeling spurned

She was in a mood, and spied the two gnomes

creeping to her garden, she browsed her tomes

 

She pulled out her dark wand once they were near

as they approached her crops, she flicked the air

Instantly they were turned into clay figurines

“Serves them right for trying to take my aubergines”

 

So there the two are in her garden still

a warning not to take against her will

slowly their colours fade and motionless they still stand

if they had asked, she might have given a helping hand.

 

 

Joanne Fisher

 

 

Word count: 174

 

I’m 24 words over the limit. I’m sorry about that.

 

This was written with the photo prompt provided by Crimson’s Creative Challenge #69.

 

Please donate! 🙂

 

 

©2020 Joanne Fisher

 

 

 

 

 

The Road is Winding (poem)

 

The Road Is Winding

 

1

 

Kaikoura is a stop for coffee

& views of the ocean

receding away

forever

 

I startle a tern which

flaps away into a moving car

it is last seen descending

rapidly down a bank

 

I feel guilty about it

for the rest of the journey

 

2

 

above are screeching gulls

shredding the cerulean sky

below the sea casually mumbles

the world’s secrets

 

if only we knew this language

of rocks & saltwater

kelp & shifting sands…

 

the road hugging the coast

along narrow shoulders

 

of rock, past beaches

& promontories,

through tunnels

scooped out

by the tide’s restless fingers

 

the reach of the ocean

 

3

 

once darkness has overcome us

we are still driving into

geographies of our ignorance

the headlights illuminating our way

the stars silently revolving above

 

we have left the coast behind

who knows where the hell we are

 

these roads have no ending

they just go on & on

silently moving us

into uncharted territory

 

we are lost sailors

on a sea of black roads

leading to forever

searching for the paths

that climb to the sky –

 

follow the stars

follow the moon

 

 

Joanne Fisher

 

The last two lines of this poem were going to be the title of my next poetry collection which has been in limbo for a few years now…

 

This poem was first published in JAAM and first appeared on this blog in April 2018.

 

Please donate! 🙂

 

 

©2020 Joanne Fisher

The Direction of the Road (poem)

 

The Direction of the Road

(for Steph)

 

we follow the road

not exactly knowing

where it leads us …

 

downwards

to black tunnels rolling into

the strata of the earths crust

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 a 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

 

This was first published in Takahe.

 

This poem first appeared on this blog in February 2018.

 

 

Please donate! 🙂

 

 

©2020 Joanne Fisher

Light – six pieces (poems)

 

Shadow Play

 

the afternoon sun

shining through

my window

 

silhouettes of

fluttering leaves

dance on my leg

 

*

 

The Biggest Beach Ball

 

Saturn’s density

is so light it would

float on water

 

if you could find

a large enough pool

 

*

 

Night

 

my parents would

turn off my light

once I fell asleep

& then I would

wake up in darkness

terrified

 

*

 

Tome

 

my hardback copy of

Complete Monty Python Sketches

is surprisingly heavy

for such light reading

 

*

 

Playing One’s Cards

 

while Magic The Gathering cards

are quite light on their own

 

a cardboard box full of them

isn’t

 

*

 

Thief

 

“It’s amazing my hand

doesn’t float away

as I’m so light-fingered”

joked Mary

 

as she purloined

my chocolates

 

 

Joanne Fisher

 

Last week I ended up writing six short poems for the prompt Silence. I enjoyed doing that so much I decided to do it again this week. I gave myself the prompt Light and made them all 15-20 words long. Feel free to do this too.

 

Please consider donating to: Christchurch Shooting Victims’ Fund.

 

 

 

 

Silence – Six Pieces (poetry)

 

 

Spring

 

after the thunderstorm

silence hangs in the air

 

a bright sun reflects

off the damp concrete

 

*

 

Lost Love vol. 7

 

we don’t talk

anymore

I’m erased

out of your

life

 

there is

only silence

left between

us

 

*

 

Deckmaster

 

when I play the card

only silence from

the other players

 

they know the game

is over

 

*

 

Food!

 

after I walk

back into the

kitchen the

silence from

the microwave

suggests dinner

is ready

 

*

 

Oops!

 

upon switching on the

new particle accelerator

all matter was ripped apart

leaving silence & empty

void

 

*

 

Darkness

 

once the sounds

of gunshots fade

 

all that is left

are dead bodes

 

& a shocked

silence

 

Joanne Fisher

 

These were all written with the prompt silence provided by Sammi Cox’s Weekend Writing Prompt #100. Word count was 16, though in some cases I didn’t include the prompt in the count which is in the rules.

 

I was at a loose end this afternoon so I sat in my bed listening to music and wrote these…

 

Please consider donating to: Christchurch Shooting Victims’ Fund.