#mastoprompt — Public Fediverse posts
Live and recent posts from across the Fediverse tagged #mastoprompt, aggregated by home.social.
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Rabbits at Tea
6-link #Rengay
(C) Paul David Mena @extraspecialbitter & Nara Moore @NaraMoore
(C) Image: Nara Moore - Seattle Street in Spring with usagi plushies in hyacinths#Poetry #詩 #NMPoetry #Haiga #俳画 #Photography #マストドン写真部 #写 #UrbanPhotography #都市写真 #Plushie #Plushies #MastoPrompt #Hyacinth #DailyHaikuPrompt 9/9 #Sparrow #Ivy 9/10 #Warbler #Morning #ThingToWriteAbout #Toad #InkMine #Arcane #IsTheOrderARabbit #Rabbit #GochiUsa #Flowers #FlowerScrolling #Garden
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Rabbits at Tea
6-link #Rengay
(C) Paul David Mena @extraspecialbitter & Nara Moore @NaraMoore
(C) Image: Nara Moore - Seattle Street in Spring with usagi plushies in hyacinths#Poetry #詩 #NMPoetry #Haiga #俳画 #Photography #マストドン写真部 #写 #UrbanPhotography #都市写真 #Plushie #Plushies #MastoPrompt #Hyacinth #DailyHaikuPrompt 9/9 #Sparrow #Ivy 9/10 #Warbler #Morning #ThingToWriteAbout #Toad #InkMine #Arcane #IsTheOrderARabbit #Rabbit #GochiUsa #Flowers #FlowerScrolling #Garden
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Rabbits at Tea
6-link #Rengay
(C) Paul David Mena @extraspecialbitter & Nara Moore @NaraMoore
(C) Image: Nara Moore - Seattle Street in Spring with usagi plushies in hyacinths#Poetry #詩 #NMPoetry #Haiga #俳画 #Photography #マストドン写真部 #写 #UrbanPhotography #都市写真 #Plushie #Plushies #MastoPrompt #Hyacinth #DailyHaikuPrompt 9/9 #Sparrow #Ivy 9/10 #Warbler #Morning #ThingToWriteAbout #Toad #InkMine #Arcane #IsTheOrderARabbit #Rabbit #GochiUsa #Flowers #FlowerScrolling #Garden
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Rabbits at Tea
6-link #Rengay
(C) Paul David Mena @extraspecialbitter & Nara Moore @NaraMoore
(C) Image: Nara Moore - Seattle Street in Spring with usagi plushies in hyacinths#Poetry #詩 #NMPoetry #Haiga #俳画 #Photography #マストドン写真部 #写 #UrbanPhotography #都市写真 #Plushie #Plushies #MastoPrompt #Hyacinth #DailyHaikuPrompt 9/9 #Sparrow #Ivy 9/10 #Warbler #Morning #ThingToWriteAbout #Toad #InkMine #Arcane #IsTheOrderARabbit #Rabbit #GochiUsa #Flowers #FlowerScrolling #Garden
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Rabbits at Tea
6-link #Rengay
(C) Paul David Mena @extraspecialbitter & Nara Moore @NaraMoore
(C) Image: Nara Moore - Seattle Street in Spring with usagi plushies in hyacinths#Poetry #詩 #NMPoetry #Haiga #俳画 #Photography #マストドン写真部 #写 #UrbanPhotography #都市写真 #Plushie #Plushies #MastoPrompt #Hyacinth #DailyHaikuPrompt 9/9 #Sparrow #Ivy 9/10 #Warbler #Morning #ThingToWriteAbout #Toad #InkMine #Arcane #IsTheOrderARabbit #Rabbit #GochiUsa #Flowers #FlowerScrolling #Garden
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Willow Leaves
6-Link #Rengay
(C) 2026 Randy Bradbury @moto17
& Nara Moore @NaraMoore
Image: #ClaudeMonet Lily Pond and Weeping Willow, 1916–1919
& Endless Knot - Rick J. Pellegr,#dailyhaikuprompt #WillowLeaves #Gusty #MastoPrompt #whisk #Dharma #Buddhist #Willow #Poetry #詩 #NMPoetry #Haiga #俳画
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Willow Leaves
6-Link #Rengay
(C) 2026 Randy Bradbury @moto17
& Nara Moore @NaraMoore
Image: #ClaudeMonet Lily Pond and Weeping Willow, 1916–1919
& Endless Knot - Rick J. Pellegr,#dailyhaikuprompt #WillowLeaves #Gusty #MastoPrompt #whisk #Dharma #Buddhist #Willow #Poetry #詩 #NMPoetry #Haiga #俳画
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Willow Leaves
6-Link #Rengay
(C) 2026 Randy Bradbury @moto17
& Nara Moore @NaraMoore
Image: #ClaudeMonet Lily Pond and Weeping Willow, 1916–1919
& Endless Knot - Rick J. Pellegr,#dailyhaikuprompt #WillowLeaves #Gusty #MastoPrompt #whisk #Dharma #Buddhist #Willow #Poetry #詩 #NMPoetry #Haiga #俳画
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Willow Leaves
6-Link #Rengay
(C) 2026 Randy Bradbury @moto17
& Nara Moore @NaraMoore
Image: #ClaudeMonet Lily Pond and Weeping Willow, 1916–1919
& Endless Knot - Rick J. Pellegr,#dailyhaikuprompt #WillowLeaves #Gusty #MastoPrompt #whisk #Dharma #Buddhist #Willow #Poetry #詩 #NMPoetry #Haiga #俳画
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Willow Leaves
6-Link #Rengay
(C) 2026 Randy Bradbury @moto17
& Nara Moore @NaraMoore
Image: #ClaudeMonet Lily Pond and Weeping Willow, 1916–1919
& Endless Knot - Rick J. Pellegr,#dailyhaikuprompt #WillowLeaves #Gusty #MastoPrompt #whisk #Dharma #Buddhist #Willow #Poetry #詩 #NMPoetry #Haiga #俳画
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The pale threads were already passing things along: water, phosphorus, the chemical news of root and rot. Then the forests fell. First heat, then ash. A sudden surplus of the dead. And underground: take in, dissolve, transform. There is less light now. There is more death here. Carry it onward.
#MastoPrompt
#convey
#writing
#smallstories
#paleopoetics
@stevencudahy -
Jasmine in dusk
The willow leaves reaching
River at low tideCool breeze conveying
The comfort of your love••⋅☾ #Tanka ☽⋅••
#DailyHaikuPrompt #WillowLeaves #LowTide #Dusk #haikuchallenge #Jasmine #MastoPrompt #convey #thingstowriteabout #comfort #Love
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Jasmine in dusk
The willow leaves reaching
River at low tideCool breeze conveying
The comfort of your love••⋅☾ #Tanka ☽⋅••
#DailyHaikuPrompt #WillowLeaves #LowTide #Dusk #haikuchallenge #Jasmine #MastoPrompt #convey #thingstowriteabout #comfort #Love
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Jasmine in dusk
The willow leaves reaching
River at low tideCool breeze conveying
The comfort of your love••⋅☾ #Tanka ☽⋅••
#DailyHaikuPrompt #WillowLeaves #LowTide #Dusk #haikuchallenge #Jasmine #MastoPrompt #convey #thingstowriteabout #comfort #Love
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Jasmine in dusk
The willow leaves reaching
River at low tideCool breeze conveying
The comfort of your love••⋅☾ #Tanka ☽⋅••
#DailyHaikuPrompt #WillowLeaves #LowTide #Dusk #haikuchallenge #Jasmine #MastoPrompt #convey #thingstowriteabout #comfort #Love
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"I've never been so insulted!" The mage stamped velvet-slippered feet. "Total lack of respect. Who does he think he is?"
"What's with the #tirade?" the barbarian murmured.
The rogue chuckled. "The junior scholar showed up in an identical silk robe."
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#Goldilocks and Three Grim Fates: And This One is Too Cold
#Mythpunk #Horror
#Wss366 #Mastoprompt 12/14 #TimeTravelAuthors 12/13 #WordWeavers 12/14: injuries“We need to get out of here!” I yelled as soon as I had recovered from seeing my wife burned at the stake.
“We can’t leave her,” Claire sobbed. But I knew my duty and what Rebecca would have wanted. That was to get our daughter to safety. I could return here with a priest or a medium or someone else—anyone—to see if we could recall Rebecca.
I grabbed Claire and dragged her to the door. She kicked and screamed. Her nails tore at my hands, but I held on. Finally, she broke free when I tried to open the cabin door.
For a second, I was paralyzed, torn between opening the door and catching her again. Then, there was a #popping noise, and I felt a sharp pain run down my back. Only after I’d hit the floor did I realize what had happened. I had thrown out my back while trying to do both.
It was an old injury, but when it went out, I couldn’t move for weeks.
Paralyzed, I watched Claire run to the bedroom, screaming her mother’s name. “Rebecca! Mommy!
Then silence fell.
“Claire, honey. Help me.” I called. “We need to get out of here so we can bring someone back to rescue Mom.” I wasn’t #optimistic, though. Laying her soul to rest was probably the best we could do.
I waited, #hoping I’d convinced Claire.
“Okay,” she replied, coming out of the bedroom. Sparkling white gems dangled from the torn fabric of her white dress. The words “Anastasia screamed in vain” came to me from somewhere.
I shivered when she spoke again, in a #faraway, forlorn voice: “They came for them. Мама, папа.”
Slowly, her eyes focused.
“I’ll help you, папа,” she continued, her voice still dreamy.
She re-entered the bedroom, where I could see her next to a chest of drawers. When she pulled out the first drawer, she dumped it out. Clothes, a length of rope, and other odds clattered to the floor.
“This one is too messy,” she chanted. I heard the next drawer and chant, “And this one is too empty.”
Finally, she opened the bottom drawer and took something out.
“And this one is so cute. The Santa looks just like you, папа.”
She held a snow globe depicting Santa in a town square. In the background, a palace stood amid snowdrifts. When she shook it, snow flew—dazzling, blinding, a sheet that obscured the room.
She repeated, “Just like you.”
The snow brushed my face. In the background, I heard a horse scream and a gunshot.
3/4
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#Goldilocks and Three Grim Fates: And This One is Too Cold
#Mythpunk #Horror
#Wss366 #Mastoprompt 12/14 #TimeTravelAuthors 12/13 #WordWeavers 12/14: injuries“We need to get out of here!” I yelled as soon as I had recovered from seeing my wife burned at the stake.
“We can’t leave her,” Claire sobbed. But I knew my duty and what Rebecca would have wanted. That was to get our daughter to safety. I could return here with a priest or a medium or someone else—anyone—to see if we could recall Rebecca.
I grabbed Claire and dragged her to the door. She kicked and screamed. Her nails tore at my hands, but I held on. Finally, she broke free when I tried to open the cabin door.
For a second, I was paralyzed, torn between opening the door and catching her again. Then, there was a #popping noise, and I felt a sharp pain run down my back. Only after I’d hit the floor did I realize what had happened. I had thrown out my back while trying to do both.
It was an old injury, but when it went out, I couldn’t move for weeks.
Paralyzed, I watched Claire run to the bedroom, screaming her mother’s name. “Rebecca! Mommy!
Then silence fell.
“Claire, honey. Help me.” I called. “We need to get out of here so we can bring someone back to rescue Mom.” I wasn’t #optimistic, though. Laying her soul to rest was probably the best we could do.
I waited, #hoping I’d convinced Claire.
“Okay,” she replied, coming out of the bedroom. Sparkling white gems dangled from the torn fabric of her white dress. The words “Anastasia screamed in vain” came to me from somewhere.
I shivered when she spoke again, in a #faraway, forlorn voice: “They came for them. Мама, папа.”
Slowly, her eyes focused.
“I’ll help you, папа,” she continued, her voice still dreamy.
She re-entered the bedroom, where I could see her next to a chest of drawers. When she pulled out the first drawer, she dumped it out. Clothes, a length of rope, and other odds clattered to the floor.
“This one is too messy,” she chanted. I heard the next drawer and chant, “And this one is too empty.”
Finally, she opened the bottom drawer and took something out.
“And this one is so cute. The Santa looks just like you, папа.”
She held a snow globe depicting Santa in a town square. In the background, a palace stood amid snowdrifts. When she shook it, snow flew—dazzling, blinding, a sheet that obscured the room.
She repeated, “Just like you.”
The snow brushed my face. In the background, I heard a horse scream and a gunshot.
3/4
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#Goldilocks and Three Grim Fates: And This One is Too Cold
#Mythpunk #Horror
#Wss366 #Mastoprompt 12/14 #TimeTravelAuthors 12/13 #WordWeavers 12/14: injuries“We need to get out of here!” I yelled as soon as I had recovered from seeing my wife burned at the stake.
“We can’t leave her,” Claire sobbed. But I knew my duty and what Rebecca would have wanted. That was to get our daughter to safety. I could return here with a priest or a medium or someone else—anyone—to see if we could recall Rebecca.
I grabbed Claire and dragged her to the door. She kicked and screamed. Her nails tore at my hands, but I held on. Finally, she broke free when I tried to open the cabin door.
For a second, I was paralyzed, torn between opening the door and catching her again. Then, there was a #popping noise, and I felt a sharp pain run down my back. Only after I’d hit the floor did I realize what had happened. I had thrown out my back while trying to do both.
It was an old injury, but when it went out, I couldn’t move for weeks.
Paralyzed, I watched Claire run to the bedroom, screaming her mother’s name. “Rebecca! Mommy!
Then silence fell.
“Claire, honey. Help me.” I called. “We need to get out of here so we can bring someone back to rescue Mom.” I wasn’t #optimistic, though. Laying her soul to rest was probably the best we could do.
I waited, #hoping I’d convinced Claire.
“Okay,” she replied, coming out of the bedroom. Sparkling white gems dangled from the torn fabric of her white dress. The words “Anastasia screamed in vain” came to me from somewhere.
I shivered when she spoke again, in a #faraway, forlorn voice: “They came for them. Мама, папа.”
Slowly, her eyes focused.
“I’ll help you, папа,” she continued, her voice still dreamy.
She re-entered the bedroom, where I could see her next to a chest of drawers. When she pulled out the first drawer, she dumped it out. Clothes, a length of rope, and other odds clattered to the floor.
“This one is too messy,” she chanted. I heard the next drawer and chant, “And this one is too empty.”
Finally, she opened the bottom drawer and took something out.
“And this one is so cute. The Santa looks just like you, папа.”
She held a snow globe depicting Santa in a town square. In the background, a palace stood amid snowdrifts. When she shook it, snow flew—dazzling, blinding, a sheet that obscured the room.
She repeated, “Just like you.”
The snow brushed my face. In the background, I heard a horse scream and a gunshot.
3/4
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#Goldilocks and Three Grim Fates: And This One is Too Cold
#Mythpunk #Horror
#Wss366 #Mastoprompt 12/14 #TimeTravelAuthors 12/13“We need to get out of here!” I yelled as soon as I had recovered from seeing my wife burned at the stake.
“We can’t leave her,” Claire sobbed. But I knew my duty and what Rebecca would have wanted. That was to get our daughter to safety. I could return here with a priest or a medium or someone else—anyone—to see if we could recall Rebecca.
I grabbed Claire and dragged her to the door. She kicked and screamed. Her nails tore at my hands, but I held on. Finally, she broke free when I tried to open the cabin door.
For a second, I was paralyzed, torn between opening the door and catching her again. Then, there was a #popping noise, and I felt a sharp pain run down my back. Only after I’d hit the floor did I realize what had happened. I had thrown out my back while trying to do both.
It was an old injury, but when it went out, I couldn’t move for weeks.
Paralyzed, I watched Claire run to the bedroom, screaming her mother’s name. “Rebecca! Mommy!
Then silence fell.
“Claire, honey. Help me.” I called. “We need to get out of here so we can bring someone back to rescue Mom.” I wasn’t #optimistic, though. Laying her soul to rest was probably the best we could do.
I waited, #hoping I’d convinced Claire.
“Okay,” she replied, coming out of the bedroom. Sparkling white gems dangled from the torn fabric of her white dress. The words “Anastasia screamed in vain” came to me from somewhere.
I shivered when she spoke again, in a #faraway, forlorn voice: “They came for them. Мама, папа.”
Slowly, her eyes focused.
“I’ll help you, папа,” she continued, her voice still dreamy.
She re-entered the bedroom, where I could see her next to a chest of drawers. When she pulled out the first drawer, she dumped it out. Clothes, a length of rope, and other odds clattered to the floor.
“This one is too messy,” she chanted. I heard the next drawer and chant, “And this one is too empty.”
Finally, she opened the bottom drawer and took something out.
“And this one is so cute. The Santa looks just like you, папа.”
She held a snow globe depicting Santa in a town square. In the background, a palace stood amid snowdrifts. When she shook it, snow flew—dazzling, blinding, a sheet that obscured the room.
She repeated, “Just like you.”
The snow brushed my face. In the background, I heard a horse scream and a gunshot.
3/4
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#Goldilocks and Three Grim Fates
#Mythpunk #Horror
#Wss366 #Mastoprompt #ScribesAndMakers 11/22“...But I did not shoot the #deputy…” Bob Marley’s wail trailed off as our car stalled.
“I told you to get the car checked,” Rebecca said.
“I did. The mechanic said it was in A1 shape, just some minor gremlins in the electrical system.”
From the back, Claire added, "Or a plot to get two lovely ladies alone on a lonely country road." I could picture her shaking her golden, sausage-curls as she said it, a sly grin on her face.
“Cute,” I replied. I could always count on my daughter to say something clever. But she was right; it was a lonely road. Trees hemmed us in, and large fluffy flakes drifted down between them.
To our left was a yellow steel gate with a “No Trespassing” sign. Beyond, the occasional moon #illuminated a rustic cabin. Weeds poked through the snow casting shadows like claws. The only welcoming thing in the scene was a path where someone had trampled the snow, leading to the building.
“I know it says no trespassing, but I’m going to see if someone is home,” I said, opening the car door.
A blast of arctic air met me, smelling of an upcoming storm. I shivered and pulled my coat tighter.
My girlfriend and her daughter joined me. The younger one explained, “No way we’re letting you leave us. Everyone knows ‘Jack the Gripper’ preys on beauties left alone in stalled cars.”
“It’s ‘Jack the Ripper,’” Rebecca corrected.
“Nya ayh, it’s ‘Jack the Gripper.’ He’s from the game ‘Seven Maidens House.’”
It was too cold for this debate, so I walked over to the gate, which was fortunately unlocked.
The snow on the path crunched underfoot, leaving footprints. The dark, empty windows of the cabin didn’t encourage me. Still, a phone line running to it tempted me onward.
Silence met the door’s rattle when I knocked. I knocked louder, thinking perhaps the owner was asleep. This was also met with silence.
“That's weird,” I heard Rebecca say. “Three mailboxes.”
“This one is too big. And this one is too dented. But this one is just right!”
“Don’t say #cursed things,” Rebecca reprimanded Claire.
“I’m going to see if it’s unlocked,” I called over my shoulder, interrupting their squabbling.
To my surprise, the door opened easily, and flicking a switch produced a warm electric light.The building’s interior was cozy. Three rocking chairs stood in front of a fireplace with wood stacked next to it. A handleless hatchet rested against the pile. To one side, there was a wood stove with more wood. A single frying pan rested on it. In the center of the room was a table with a cheery, red-checkered tablecloth, three place settings, and a mystery soup can. I guessed the door in the back led to a bedroom.
The room's most surprising feature was a ceiling-high bookshelf crammed with leather-bound books. They weren't the collector's type with gold trim and fancy titles, but old volumes weathered by time.
(1/4)
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“So this portal between worlds, what do you call it? Wait, wait. Let me guess. Wormhole? The Drift? Stargate?”
Jeepak’s tentacles swerved ‘no’. “We call it the Soothing.”
“Soothing? That doesn’t sound like something that would drive you mad.”
“No, it is very calm. Will you help us? Your medical technology is superior in this area.”
Final preparations were made and our team boarded Jeepak’s vessel. It was teardrop shaped and covered in what looked like a mix of moss an barnacles. Inside they had prepared human-compatible reclining chairs with safety belts.
We all strapped in and Jeepak and their small crew operated the controls. A soft humming and vibration began as the vessel floated gently up. Then, right in front of us the air... parted open is the best I can describe it, and we were sucked in. The runway, the base, everything disappeared as if we went through a curtain.
We were flowing through a river of mist. It wasn’t scary or psychedelic or even strange, it was just, well, soothing. I still remembered the ravages of war and climate change, hatred and greed, but they were put in perspective. Like watching ants from rival colonies fighting over crumbs on a glorious summer day.
I was reclining in my chair, my muscles all calm as if I’d just had a good massage, when we arrived. A curtain opened again and we returned to normal space and landed on Jeepak’s home world.
I say normal. Their planet had its own horrors. Enormous carnivorous blue vines formed a web the size of a mountain range. They shot venomous quills at their prey.
We set to work immediately, using autoinjectors to vaccinate the local population. It increased their immunity to the quills. We attempted treating those who had been poisoned, with some success. Over a few days we taught local carers as much Earth medical science as we could, helping them to produce more vaccine. But I had nightmares about murderous vines every night.
After a hellish week, we left, hoping we had done enough to help them fight off the vines. Once again, we boarded Jeepak’s vessel, relieved to be leaving the terrors behind. And once again, we were soothed on the way. We arrived home calm and ready to take on the world. Our world, that is.
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Fresh wind of justice
The redness of his secret
No longer hidden...RIP all who have lost their lives to domestic violence.
#dailyhaikuprompt - fresh wind
#575Prompt - redness
#Mastoprompt - secret#domesticviolence #women #strongwomen #feminism #feminist #death #oj #ojsimpson #nicolebrown #rongoldman #poetry #poet #poets #poem #poems #writing #writinglife #writingcommunity #smallpoems #smallpoem #shortpoem #love #relationships #nicolebrownsimpson #healing #abuse
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"Observe," the chemist said. "I draw up the acid then drop it on the metal. Carefully, mind."
His apprentice looked at him dubiously. "But you mouth pipette rather than using a bulb?"
"It's perfectly safe."
"If you say so. But what about your hand #tremor?"
"Ha, just needs a good stiff drink beforehand." He put his mouth to the tube—and hiccuped.
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In the darkest night of my soul, a #hollow scream echoes into the night. Then, #otherworldly silence falls. I catch a #notion of a draft, then realise the giant pendant. It #swings soundless. As it changes direction, a #splash of #cerise illuminates the #celestial canvas.
---
#MicroPrompt #vss365 #MastoPrompt #rise365 #Whistpr #BrknShards #vssnature -
functioning for taste
living to lick skin and feet
Splendor of the tongue!#575prompt - tongue
#mastoprompt - function
#dailyhaikuprompt - splendor#art #artwork #artist #mastoart #fediart #haiku #poetry #poem #poet #writer #writing #writingcommunity #smallpoems #AYearForArt #dog #dogs #dogsofmastodon #saintbernard #stbernard #puppies #puppy #animals #pets #cute #fun #colorful #collage
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"Yes, I'm sure." I drop my signet ring on the table.
A #flicker of contempt adorns your lips. "After this, you're out. Throw."
I toss. The disc spins in the air.
You snap, "Heads."
It thunks down. I see an #angelic face, rather than a #demonic tail.
"Damn!" I say.
"You're not that lucky." You slip the ring on your finger.
I hurry out. Once I'm well away, I trigger the ring.
Mission accomplished.
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Her angelic face put him off initially;
Too young, too innocent,
Somewhere no man should go,
So he ignored her as she rushed,
All ponytail and swaying limbs,
Another jogger outside the office,
Until she pushed past him in a haze
Of sweat and stale perfume.He was angry at the push,
The ignorance, until he saw her,
Crashed in the chair in the office,
A towel around her shoulders, and
Sadness in her limbs. Beauty,
She said, is a vicious curse. -
= stone cold =
dehydrated angels
crisp wafer on my lips
all alcohol and salt, taste
the tidal beaches of your face
stone cold downdraughts
and peeling heartless bells
all absent songs of solace
in this mourning placehttps://clover.serveblog.net/w0dz/stone-cold
@tanweerdar