@tanweerdar
#Mastopromt interface

The aliens were space amoeba. Hive-minded, hyper intelligent, and extra-dimensional, they existed only partially in our world. They built a gateway; Steven Rose volunteered to go through.

Presently a young woman with transluscent blue skin emerged. "I am the interface," she said. "I have been altered so that the Vam'ar can speak through me."

"Stevie?" one asked. "They turned you into a girl!"

"Yes. That," she said, smiling, "was a personal request."

People were shouting into the aether that orange didn’t rhyme with anything and I replied “sporange.” It’s me. I’m the asexual.

#MastoPromt #orange #poetry #Mosstodon #moss #writing

Bonk (n.) Verb meaning
#antidote,
a remedy to
set them right
as to facts.
Most nonsense
spread by ignorance
not wickedness

Foes tell of collapse
yet where does
this anarchy exist?
A few
hired gazetteers
repeat lies
For most
ingested
perspectives.

Poisons allowed
to fester too long as
narratives of despair
become
attack vectors
To Bonk is
to Be
a Nonsense
Reversal Agent

#smallpoems
#mastopromt
#foundpoem
#nafo

What could be more courageous
Than every summer
The fledgings throwing
Caution to the wind
And following instinct
Out of feathered safety
Into the unforgiving blue,
The ground spreading
With cold indifference?

What could be more courageous?

Maybe their mother and father's
Calls for them to fly.

#brave #mastopromt #smallpoem #poetry

Who is the one
that might wish to
obliterate the sun

as he cannot
stand to stare into
the bright

while someone who
already is shadowed
by an observer

may think
he would
disappear

in the absence
of
the light?

Photo: Bright, 2018

#smartphonography
#XianePhoto

#MastoPromt
#obliterate
#LyriX

These days
I could do with a few
slogans of perseverance,
if they didn't always come
in the imperative
& turn into a single
yelp and bark
in my brain
that maltreats me:
#Persevere!
Stay strong!
Don't
grow
weak!
Go!
Go!
Go!

#XianePhoto #smartphonography

#MastoPromt

It's easier to know it now,
On the day the sun spears
Its rising light
through that bronze age eye
At Brú Na Bóinne.

On the way,
The promise of the whins
In full-sensed flower,
The blackthorns' sweet dream of
Softest white on rigid black.

The land presents a mire
With footrot hid in every paddock,
Bitter hailstone raking you in sheets
From blue or steel grey skies.
There's not a drop of kindness,
Til the soltice turns, but now,
Now, it just might be on the way.

#mastopromt #imminent #poetry