Let’s sit somewhere idly and watch the world go by. Let’s wave at the little school girl across the street. Let’s not look at the scary smoking guy wearing an old torn pair of jeans. Let’s smile at the dog near our feet. Let’s point fingers at the tall skyscrapers and at the plants in their balconies. Let’s look up at the sky as a flock of birds return to their home in the trees. Let’s talk about the weather and the chilly evening breeze. Let’s just sit together. Holding hands. Doing absolutely nothing.
8-Word Stories #17
A cold denial, filled with feelings of remorse.
8-Word Stories #11
Serving warm bowls of soup for cold hearts.
8-Word Stories #9
The door flew open revealing confusion, hesitation, grief.
8-Word Stories #1
A forgotten diary, opened a floodgate of emotions.
If you have an eight word short story or poem to share, then please share them with me and the community in the comment section below. I would love to read them! ❤️
On World Poetry Day
Does not have to be a jumble of words
Or, beautiful sounding prose.
It’s what the people always say,
Poetry is in everything that’s around you.
It doesn’t need to be
Created, written, spoken, or sung.
It doesn’t have to always be expressed.
It can be in the unsaid little things of life.
When you close your eyes in prayer,
The reverent bow of your head, my friend, is a poem.
It is a feeling that flows,
It does not have to be controlled,
Who says you need to follow rules, meters, or rhymes
To feel poetry,
and if you do, that’s great too.
Well, then that’s the ultimate form of poetry.
But poetry, my dear, is you.
The emotions that flow inside of you.
The good ones, the bad ones,
The sad ones, the angry ones,
The love, the hate.
When you feel a darkness creeping within,
Gnawing at your skin
Breaking you, pulling you down,
Haven’t you tried to fight, to overcome?
Expecting light at the end of the tunnel?
You have reached your hand out for help,
Right there is hope, right there in your spirit is poetry.
When you are drowned in work,
Day and night with no track of time,
You have forgotten to eat,
Hungry and tired.
But, when you finally raise your head and stretch
In that deep long breath of exhaustion is poetry.
You are hanging onto your life,
In a local crowded train.
Sweating, cursing, sighing,
Pushing, pulling, struggling..
Struggling for a breath of fresh air.
In that struggling, funny anger my lovely one, let us find poetry.
Poetry is not always flowery.
It can be anything that you want it to be.
Doubtless, that the poems written by
The hopeless romantics,
On the falling leaves,
On the blooming trees,
On the rising, thrashing waves,
On the pouring, loving rain
Will always be the rainbows in the skies.
But, let us continue finding beauty
In the most unexpected traces of life.
Hover in stillness of the room.
A warm yellow light
Swelling an air of melancholy.
Mood on a Swing
I am just sad, a sad lad. My eyelids feel heavy, brain is foggy. I’m in that state where I can think of a hundred things and make myself sad. Like, ah the weather is so beautiful but I can’t go travelling. I want to go for a run but I’m feeling lazy and my legs are tired. I feel dirty, I need to shower but it’s too cold to get wet. I wish my friends lived next door. I wish people could understand my deep inner emotions. Stuff like that you know, but who wants to go down that lane.
What can I do instead?
Make a sandwich? Done. Drink a cup of hot coffee? Done. Watch a crazy TV show? Done. Wash my laundry? Done, I just need to remove them from the dryer. Read a book? Done. Play video games? Done.
I guess this is another problem, I’m too good, I’m too cool, I’m also a fool.
Okay, I think I am feeling better now!. Time to go and throw out the trash. Trash all the sadness and negativity that’s pulling me down.
That was easy, all I had to do was dwell on those feelings, write them down, shout them out, and understand what’s wrong. Now that I’ve given those emotions some attention I feel I am ready to take on the world. But hey, I am just a lad, not a sad one anymore, a normal lad.
A Lost Snowflake
It was a phase,
When the little girl loved snowflakes.
Nose pressed to the window pane,
She spent hours gazing at swirling flurries,
Gently breezing through the skies,
Softly and quietly covering the world in white.
Now that phase has passed,
Her tiny flakes of joy are lost,
The girl has turned cold as frost.
She finds the snow miserable and utterly cold.
“A dazzling waste of time!”
As she pulls down the window blinds,
A snowflake silently glides
Rekindling the light in her eyes.
It was a silent dark night, the windows flew open and the candle flame quivered – an unexpected storm.
The grumpy old man had fallen asleep by the fireplace while reading a book and was disturbed by the storming wind. The wooden floor creaked in pain when he got up from his rocking chair. The dog lying beside his feet jolted up and whined in fear. The old man barked at him and asked the dog to shut up.
A bolt of lightning struck close followed by a loud thunderous, crackling sound. The dog howled and scampered around the house.
The power went off.
The old man cursed continually under his breath and began to walk slowly towards the kitchen to look for candles.
Suddenly there was a knock on the door.
“Who now?”, he thought.
It took him a good amount of time to reach the door. He opened it and saw a little girl with two braid plaits smiling at him.
“Who are you?”, croaked the old man.
The girl replied, “I live down the road. We moved-in yesterday. I.. uh, we need candles. Can I please borrow a few candles? One will also do.”
“You are soaked to the skin, girl! Come in.” said the old man and started walking, “There’s a dog inside, don’t get frightened. He will bark but he is a fool, never bites.”
The girl followed him, “Thank you sir, you are very kind. I am not scared of dogs, you see I have grown up playing with two massive hounds at my grandma’s place. Do you live alone? Where are your children? Why don’t you sit, it seems like you are finding it difficult to walk. I can help you light the candles. Point me to where they are and I will get them.”
“Chatty little prick, I am not kind. The candles are somewhere in the kitchen, go find them. Take one for yourself, light one for me and leave!”, said the old man and went back to his chair.
“Yes sir, I will be quick. Is there anything the matter with your back?”, asked the girl with a worried look.
“I slipped in my backyard and landed on my back. I was taken to the hospital for a surgery, those damned doctors placed two metal plates in my spine.” said the old man with great effort.
“Oh I am sorry to hear that, can I be of any help? My mother’s making vegetable broth I can quickly fetch some for you. Specially in this weather sir, I am sure the hot broth and some toasted slices of baguette will do you good.”, she said hopefully.
“Like I said earlier, there is no need for you to get pally with me. Take the candles and leave, girl”, he said dismissively.
The girl found the candles in a wooden box beside a pair of oven mitts. While in the kitchen she noticed its messy state, “Clearly he is finding it difficult to do things by himself, silly ol’ grandpa!”
She lit a candle and placed it on a table next to him. While the rest of the house was still in darkness, she sneaked out quietly, leaving the door slightly open and ran out.
The girl returned in a few minutes and noticed that the old man had fallen asleep. She placed the hot food on the dining table and lit another candle next to the food. She also left behind a huge basket in the kitchen filled with bread, butter, strawberry jam, and some fruits.
A few days had passed. The old man woke up early in the morning and decided to go on a walk to look for the girl. He had recovered and was neither grumpy or hungry anymore. He searched long and hard but there was no sign of the girl. He asked the neighbours and nearby stores but none had heard or seen a little girl with two braid plaits around. He went back home feeling disheartened.
One night, there was an unexpected storm again, rain pelted on the roof, windows rattled, winds howled, lightning flashed and crackled in the sky. The dog whimpered and hid underneath the old man’s chair. The power went off and he heard a soft knock on the door again.