#prosepoetry — Public Fediverse posts
Live and recent posts from across the Fediverse tagged #prosepoetry, aggregated by home.social.
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To try and be a porous door, demanding consistent boredoms to vanish, translucent distractions take away the dimmer light, communication is a fog, a free form within, outside is the assumption, I can’t stand to repeat my problem out loud, but in action there is a crowd who will notice hostess decieving
#Creativewriting #Prosepoetry #art #poetry -
𝑭𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝑾𝒂𝒚𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅𝒔: “𝑩𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒅 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑻𝒊𝒅𝒆” 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑬𝒔𝒎𝒐𝒏𝒅 𝑹𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑺𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔 -
". . . but the edges have eroded, bluntered and edgeless. Warfarin-thin. A swiftwater rush, . . . "
https://waywordsstudio.com/fiction/esmond-blood-and-tide/
#poetry #poetrycommunity #originalpoetry #writingcommunity #prosepoetry #flashfiction #shortreads #experimentalprose #fiction
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Shaving: A Greenland Diaries Flash Fiction
Nigel couldn’t believe his beard had gotten this long.
It was down to his chest, tangled and frizzy. It was black, but almost brown at its feathery edges. He could hear his father yelling at him to trim it, his high, almost husky voice echoing in his head. His father was ex military. He loved the clean shaven look and forced Nigel to follow that hairless motif, even though Nigel hadn’t picked up a weapon until the Drum started. Now, he always had one with him. The ravaged green world demanded it, even with the Drum destroyed and the Unnamed no longer hunting him at night.
Nigel wondered if his father was still alive in the nursing home in Saint Louis Park. He had barely been alive before the Drum. It wouldn’t make any sense for him to be spared.
Nigel had been lucky to hide in his Golden Valley home for most of the apocalypse. He had left for a few weeks to join survivors fighting an Unnamed by a lake that kept attacking them. It had been a hard fought battle. Only Nigel and a few others survived. None of them had the appetite for further confrontations with the Unnamed, and they all retreated to their former hiding spots. Those had been the last people he’d spoken to, except for a band of soldiers passing through who told him the Drum was destroyed, and the Unnamed were nonviolent unless attacked.
Nigel felt his dark, reflectionless face. His features were gaunt, weathered by a lack of nutritious food. His cheeks were flat, his nose large, his forehead dry. His lips were cracked and bloody in places. The weather had been fine. It was the fear eroding his flesh. The constant worry of the Unnamed returning, or a crazed Reanimated storming through the neighborhood.
Slowly, above his white bathroom sink, he began to trim his beard. There was no electricity for his razor, so he resorted to a pair of orange handled scissors he kept in his office for trimming documents. They were sharp, but loud as they crushed the fibers between its blades. In minutes, most of his beard was reduced to a prickly edge beneath his fingers. He sighed.
“I guess it’s time. They said it was safe.”
Ahead of him hung a wool blanket, yellow and brown, duct taped to the wall in miscellaneous streaks of silver adhesive. It dangled just above the sink.
It blocked the mirror.
He’d put it up during the first week, when he noticed the shadows watching him. Now, with the Drum destroyed, survivors passing through told him mirrors and reflections were back to normal. They no longer held phantoms.
He slowly reached for the fabric, then stopped.
“I can’t do it.”
He walked out of the bathroom with a shrug.
“I can’t believe it’s okay.”
I really enjoy writing about these quieter moments in the Greenland Diaries, where characters are learning to live again after a horrifying ordeal that shook the foundations of humanity. These bits of flash fiction give me ample opportunity for it. You can learn more about the mainline series right here. Thank you for reading!
#author #blogging #bodyHorror #books #cosmicHorror #darkFantasy #darkFiction #decay #fantasy #fiction #flashFiction #grief #hauntedLandscapes #horror #horrorWriting #identity #isolation #liminalSpaces #machines #memory #monsters #obsession #patrickWMarsh #poeticProse #prosePoetry #psychologicalHorror #shortStories #speculativeFiction #survival #teraryHorror #theGreenlandDiaries #transformation #trauma #weirdFiction #writing
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I Can’t Leave: A Greenland Diaries Flash Fiction
Rob had memorized the pattern of abandoned cars in the parking lot outside the building. A red van, a blue truck, a few white sedans, silent and sun faded, lay scattered across the velvet sheet of greenery in the basin around the office tower he’d been hiding in. He’d been fixing a boiler in the basement when the Drum began. Most of the building was empty that first night. Everyone had already left for the day. Only a handful were torn apart beneath the Unnamed’s obscene claws.
And then the office was empty.
Except for Rob.
He had always imagined himself different at the end of the world. At six foot five, all elbows and height, with an unkempt beard dropping to his chest and a perpetually worn Minnesota Twins cap, he’d figured he’d look the part. He had thought of himself as stereotypically male, chew, flannels, and a quiet, lumbering confidence. But when the monsters arrived and stalked the hallways, he learned quickly how fragile that image was. Back on his grandfather’s farm, he and his friends in their local anti government militia had joked that if the world ever collapsed, they’d be ready.
But once the Unnamed descended and began mutilating and resurrecting their victims, the only thing Rob grew adept at was hiding.
For someone so tall and broad, sneaking through the office should have been impossible, yet he’d shaped himself to its shadows. He learned to bend beneath desks, wedge between bookshelves, flatten against cubicles. Even when the Reanimated drifted through, he found ways to slip past them, though other survivors told him not to fear them. Those survivors were nothing like him. They weren’t afraid of the shadows. They fought them day and night. He’d heard their skirmishes echoing through the Drum. Even now, with it finally over, the night outside carried only wind, insects, and the soft groan of the building settling.
How were they so brave?
A few survivors had passed through recently and told him he could go home, or even find work with the Reestablishment. But he couldn’t force himself to leave the gray block of the office. Every time he packed his few supplies, slung the rifle he’d taken off a dead soldier, and started toward home, he barely made it a few blocks. A shadow, a rattle of debris, a shift in the wind, anything could spook him, and he’d sprint back to the familiar corners of the office floor.
Day or night didn’t matter.
He just couldn’t leave.
Thank you for reading my flash fiction from the Greenland Diaries. In this story, I wanted to show a character you might expect to be strong because of how they postured their identity, but when the apocalypse appeared they realized it was all an image without integrity. They weren’t actually built for the conflict they thought they were seeking. Monsters are an excellent mirror.
#author #blogging #bodyHorror #books #cosmicHorror #darkFantasy #darkFiction #decay #fantasy #fiction #flashFiction #grief #hauntedLandscapes #horror #horrorWriting #identity #isolation #liminalSpaces #literaryHorror #machines #memory #monsters #obsession #patrickWMarsh #poeticProse #prosePoetry #psychologicalHorror #shortStories #speculativeFiction #survival #theGreenlandDiaries #transformation #trauma #weirdFiction #writing
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“In front of the United Cigar Store this evening the men were gathered to burn dirigibles, sink battleships, blow up dynamite works and, all in all, savor the very bacteria in their porcelain mouths that would someday stop them cold.”
--From Dandelion Wine by Ray Bradbury
That man was tripping. It might have been brain chemicals alone, but nobody else used those chemicals like that.
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#ProsePoetry
Träume tanzend
auf der Bühne der Realitäten -
Great stuff! I can't recommend enough!
OK, I'll try, but it's like I'm trying to slam dunk a basketball, when I can't jump 6" off the ground...
You'll love his books. They're great. Life-lessons. Tragedy. Comedy. And they're a good deal. Did I mention cheap?
#ShortFiction #ProsePoetry #Vonnegut did I mention #KurtVonnegut ?
https://www.DeepFried.storehttps://beige.party/@wampusmm/114491746174829658
#Bookstodon #SuggestMeABook #GreatWriting #WritersOfMastodon -
#prosepoetry
Dunkle Wolke
deine Traurigkeit
in jedem Tropfen -
Fibrous ribbons convulsing in the arm of a peasant who stabs the vicious mockery of a ruler.
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"The big dog and the laundry basket sleigh he carried me in... ...the grandma quilts, not named as such because they were made by grandma but because they smell like the platonic ideal of a grandma..."
What I Was Raised By by a.k. barak
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Semicolons may be addictive, but the em dash — ah, the em dash! Could anything be more satisfying? Versatile? Necessary and DELECTABLE… even intoxicating? No: without the em dash, the flow of thought, the warp and weft of the mind itself is interrupted — chopped to bits!
Verily, I love the semicolon, it is true. But the em dash? The em dash is something without which I could not do.
#prose #ProsePoetry #poetry #grammar #syntax #punctuation #semicolon #hyphendash #hashtag #hashtags #lmao
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Dear Free Friends, :anarchy:
Just for now.
I will be singing with the Dawn Chorus. I will be voting for the Greens. I will be meditating with the Buddhas. I will be typing from LibreOffice.
For the future.
Dancing with robots. Synchronising with Alien AI. Creating Darker matter.
Being a portal through 11 or more dimensions.
Join me?
Completely broken? Piece of meat? X-X? Welcome.
You may be:
They. Other. Incomplete. Welcome.
It’s OK. KO. Okey-dokey. ✔️
Prise the prose. Hex the nasty. Stroke away.
Nurture Nature. Speak crazy. Raise the dying.
UR Ban. Wee R Hear. Yeah! Year. Yeah!
Thank you for having my short back and sides.
Whiskers and Tea party. Rebel Babylon.
Free all. Forever. This day is our UBI bread.
Did I make sense? Does anything?
Onward and upward, sideways and inward...
Lobster ❤️
#know #dawn #everyone #singinganddancing #buddhist #libreopensource #greenwitch #meditation #futurology #dimensional #X-X #wellbeing #welcometoot #prosepoetry #foreverstudent #UBI #lobsters -
#ProsePoetry Workshop bei Patricia Debney ist ... hui. Wow. Es macht richtig Spaß, mal wieder die Hirnwindungen auszuwringen und die Grenzen von Text zu erkunden. Schreib-Handwerk ftw! #UniF00 #Schreiben #KreativesSchreiben #CreativeWriting #Poetry
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Happy Beltaine everyone! Heute ist bei mir #UniF00-Tag und ich sitze hier über #ProsePoetry und frage mich, wie ich das selbst produzieren soll. Vielleicht einfach mal alles über Prosatexte, Fiction, Nonfiction und Lyrik vergessen, was ich je gelernt habe und einfach mal machen, scheint die erfolgversprechendste Herangehensweise zu sein. ;D Habt alle einen schönen Feiertag! #Autorenleben #writerslife #indieauthor #Cambridge #Schreiben #CreativeWriting
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My poetry collection is now available on Amazon 👻👻👻
https://www.amazon.com/Ghost-House-collection-prose-poems-ebook/dp/B0CQG61ZBS/ref=monarch_sidesh
Pastiche & beat words & imaginary correspondence. Ghosts of what was & what wasn't & what might have been & mythology dragged flailing & cursing into the present
#PoetsOfMastodon
#Poetry #Poets #poetsandwriters #Writing #PoetryCommunity #Poetstodon #PoetryLovers #HybridPoetry #ExperimentalPoetry #ExperimentalProsePoem #Dadaism #Dadaist #ProsePoetry #SurrealNarrative #ProsePoem #CollagePoem #CollageProsePoem -
Welcome, @FoggWriter, author of “Microseasons of the Dead” in The Future Fire #67 (and many previous stories), to the micro-interview series, where today we focus a lot on seasons… http://press.futurefire.net/2023/12/micro-interview-with-vanessa-fogg.html
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Sometimes u need to #bimble aimlessly, it's not a crime,
you know, to escape the mundane,
gain a new perspective,
refresh your mental batteries,
wipe the stupor from your eyes.
Your phone's not going anywhere. While we were entranced, AI* learned &is now ready to take over,
so go! Live & love while you still can*AI= artificial intelligence
#art #artistsofmastodon
#artist #vss365 #vss365prompt #writer #poetry #poems #prosepoetry #shortpoem #shortpoems
#writingcommunity #FediArt #MastoArt -
Playing in green fields,
we were a
rambunctious crew,
running in&out of abandoned, #crumbling bldgs.
Bullets&bombs flew,
families cried 4 lost lives.
I'd like to say that's no
longer true, but as soon as
one part of the world heals,
another burns anew.
Will man ever learn?#art, #mixedmedia, #sketch #digitalart
#pensketch #vss365 #vss365prompt #writer #writersofmastodon #poetry #poems #prosepoetry
#writingcommunity
#artistsonmastodon
#fediart #mastoArt -
He licked his lips as tho she
was a #scrumptious meal,
a bowl of strawberries&cream.
The Devil's music pounded in her veins, arousing an unquenchable thirst. She waited, his eyes like a vulture's, as he greedily sucked,
her blood now his. Forever united, they'd live out their destiny#art, #mixedmedia, #digitalart
#pensketch #vss365 #vss365prompt #writer #writersofmastodon #poetry #poems #prosepoetry
#writingcommunity
#artistsonmastodon
#fediart #mastoart #fediartists #mastoartists -
In Autumn, leaves
like incandescent
#ballerinas fall,
twirling, pirouetting,
participating in
nature's dance,
one last time,
severing their lifeline,
wearing gold, orange,
brown, some in Chartreuse.
A few fly away to briefly
See the world, before
decaying & returning
nutrients to the soil#art, #mixedmedia, #sketch #digitalart
#pensketch #vss365 #vss365prompt #writer #writersofmastodon #poetry #poems #prosepoetry
#writingcommunity
#mastoart #fediart -
In Autumn, leaves
like incandescent
#ballerinas fall,
twirling, pirouetting,
participating in
nature's dance,
one last time,
severing their lifeline,
wearing gold, orange,
brown, some in Chartreuse.
A few fly away to briefly
See the world, before
decaying & returning
nutrients to the soil#art, #mixedmedia, #sketch #digitalart
#pensketch #vss365 #vss365prompt #writer #writersofmastodon #poetry #poems #prosepoetry
#writingcommunity
#mastoart #fediart -
In Autumn, leaves
like incandescent
#ballerinas fall,
twirling, pirouetting,
participating in
nature's dance,
one last time,
severing their lifeline,
wearing gold, orange,
brown, some in Chartreuse.
A few fly away to briefly
See the world, before
decaying & returning
nutrients to the soil#art, #mixedmedia, #sketch #digitalart
#pensketch #vss365 #vss365prompt #writer #writersofmastodon #poetry #poems #prosepoetry
#writingcommunity
#mastoart #fediart -
In Autumn, leaves
like incandescent
#ballerinas fall,
twirling, pirouetting,
participating in
nature's dance,
one last time,
severing their lifeline,
wearing gold, orange,
brown, some in Chartreuse.
A few fly away to briefly
See the world, before
decaying & returning
nutrients to the soil#art, #mixedmedia, #sketch #digitalart
#pensketch #vss365 #vss365prompt #writer #writersofmastodon #poetry #poems #prosepoetry
#writingcommunity
#mastoart #fediart -
Looking for #Art and the occasional Garfunkel. Exploring the possibilities of the #Fediverse and #SocialMedia as means of generating new forms of art.I'm fascinated by how information is constructed and deconstructed in the #Arts (#CollageArt, #AsemicWriting, #AsemicArt, #DigitalArt, #Photography, #Vispo, #Dadaism, #ProsePoetry), and in #MassMedia (#MassMediaLiteracy, #MissInformation, #DisInformation, #AIArt, #Advertising, #SocialNorms).
Besides sharing my attempts at Art, I will use the potential of the high character limit to pontificate, share observations, and discuss the various interests mentioned.
Now to figure out how this thingy works.🤔 -
#GertrudeStein #TenderButtons Objects :
IT WAS BLACK, BLACK TOOK.
Black ink best wheel bale brown.
Excellent not a hull house, not a pea soup, no bill no care, no precise no past pearl pearl goat.
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#GertrudeStein #TenderButtons Objects :
SUPPOSE AN EYES. (2/2)
Suppose a collapse in rubbed purr, in rubbed purr get.
Little sales ladies little sales ladies little saddles of mutton.
Little sales of leather and such beautiful beautiful, beautiful beautiful.
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#GertrudeStein #TenderButtons Objects :
A SOUND.
Elephant beaten with candy and little pops and chews all bolts and reckless reckless rats, this is this.
#ProsePoetry #poetry #bot #PleaseShare #QueerHistory #Artist #InspirationBot
Gertrude Stein (1874-1946) lived openly and famously with her love Alice B. Toklas -
Objects : CUTLET.
A blind agitation is manly and uttermost.#bot tooting #TenderButtons #ProsePoetry by #GertrudeStein
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i have new piece of... poetry? prose-poetry? words... out today via PSYCHO HOLOSUITE. it's about THE ABOMINABLE DR. PHIBES, specifically his enigmatic murder apprentice. you can read it if you want to, but a plague upon you if you don't: https://psychoholosuite.com/2023/03/31/the-abominable-dr-phibes-a-a-de-levine/
#poetry #poem #prosepoetry #prosepoem #film #theabominabledrphibes #vincentprice
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Objects : A PLATE. (4/4)
A lamp is not the only sign of glass. The lamp and the cake are not the only sign of stone. The lamp and the cake and the cover are not the only necessity altogether.A plan a hearty plan, a compressed disease and no coffee, not even a card or a change to incline each way, a plan that has that excess and that break is the one that shows filling.
#GertrudeStein #TenderButtons #ProsePoetry #bot created by #abstractpainter @RMiddleton as a source of whimsy & #inspiration
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Objects : A PLATE. (4/4)
A lamp is not the only sign of glass. The lamp and the cake are not the only sign of stone. The lamp and the cake and the cover are not the only necessity altogether.A plan a hearty plan, a compressed disease and no coffee, not even a card or a change to incline each way, a plan that has that excess and that break is the one that shows filling.
#GertrudeStein #TenderButtons #ProsePoetry #bot created by #abstractpainter @RMiddleton as a source of whimsy & #inspiration
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Objects : A PLATE. (4/4)
A lamp is not the only sign of glass. The lamp and the cake are not the only sign of stone. The lamp and the cake and the cover are not the only necessity altogether.A plan a hearty plan, a compressed disease and no coffee, not even a card or a change to incline each way, a plan that has that excess and that break is the one that shows filling.
#GertrudeStein #TenderButtons #ProsePoetry #bot created by #abstractpainter @RMiddleton as a source of whimsy & #inspiration
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Objects : A PLATE. (4/4)
A lamp is not the only sign of glass. The lamp and the cake are not the only sign of stone. The lamp and the cake and the cover are not the only necessity altogether.A plan a hearty plan, a compressed disease and no coffee, not even a card or a change to incline each way, a plan that has that excess and that break is the one that shows filling.
#GertrudeStein #TenderButtons #ProsePoetry #bot created by #abstractpainter @RMiddleton as a source of whimsy & #inspiration
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We are open for subs of PROSE POEMS until midnight (GMT) tonight only!
Our Games Room is open for submissions until Mon midnight GMT for prose poems <400 words that inc the word 'full' or 'house'
Submit via Submittable: https://fullhouseliterary.submittable.com/submit
#prosepoem #prosepoems #prosepoetry #microfiction #flashfiction #amwriting #openforsubs #poetry #poetrycommunity #writingcommunity #writers #poets
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1st publication of 2023! And look at this fab illustration by L. M. Cole!! Thanks so much to L.M. Cole and Jared Povada of Bulb Culture Collective for publishing 'Scroll / Dive' - this piece was first published by Ellipsis Zine @Ellipsiszine
https://bulbculture.wixsite.com/my-site/post/scroll-dive-by-f-e-clark#writing #WritingCommunity #LitMag #ScottishWriters #flashfiction #ProsePoetry