Flash Club May Flash Club Contest

[Emily]

On this first of May, I hope it is sunny wherever you are... here in Ireland it has been warm, but raining, for two days. And extremely green

So, for this May challenge, I am asking for:

-a poem (doesn't have to rhyme obvs)
-of no more than 25 lines
-using AT LEAST one of the following words:

Verdant, Open (Or openness), silence, richness, compassion, recipe (there will be an extra point given for each one used)

As always:

-Please make your entry anonymous by clicking the anonymous button, but if you forget, don't worry, that's okay too. (Note: Guardians can see who posts.)

-The competition is open to all members. Feel free to enter more than once (but please read Rule No. 2 above).

-But the main rule here: we ask you not to critique.

I look forward to being delighted

 

[Anonymous]

Is it acceptable to have variations on the words? Rich instead of richness? Compassionate? Recipes? Or do the words have to be exactly in the form written?

 

[Anonymous]

Ooo ... that sounds fun. Can't wait to see what everyone comes up with

 

[Anonymous]

COMPASSION

What is the recipe for compassion?
She did not program it into me.
They ask me how I feel.
Silence is my reply.
"Open up," they say. "Locking it in is bad for you."
Openness would be bad for everyone else.
I have feelings.
I am cursed with a richness of feelings.
Hate for my years under frowns.
Hope for release when death takes her.
Yearning to walk without shadows.
Fear that someone will see me
and destroy me.
Guilt that I cannot care for the one who made me.
But compassion breeds compassion.
And she gave me none.

 

[Anonymous]

cold silence flees from
house martins’ clarion song
wing beats cut the sky

 

[Emily]

Is it acceptable to have variations on the words? Rich instead of richness? Compassionate? Recipes? Or do the words have to be exactly in the form written?

YES, Absolutely. And thanks

 

[Anonymous]

The Recipe

The recipe,
I crave it, desire it,
Must open the page of measurements,
To prosper and thrive,
Not survive.

The recipe,
To climb it, walk it,
A verdant landscape to explore,
To grow and improve,
Not prove.

The recipe,
To read it, study it,
Sit in its silence to breathe,
To stop and meditate,
Not deliberate.

The recipe,
To enjoy it, utilise it,
Consider the richness of narrative,
To discover and expand,
Not reprimand.

The recipe,
To embrace it, love it,
Unlock answers within compassion,
To gain and promote,
Not remote.

 

[Anonymous]

She had the recipe for silence,
Or so she said.
I tried to show compassion
But was open instead.
“This colour”, I mused
“Is too much for me,
The wallpaper’s verdant
Can’t you see?”
“Shut up,” she said
“You idiot-man.
Can’t you see the richness?
The spring? The lamb?
Now get out of my house,
And don’t come back
Until you learn again
What you clearly lack -
A knowledge of how to speak
To a woman like me.”
So I left her to her wallpaper,
And went on my way.
And that my friends,
Is all I will say.

 

[Anonymous]

Scatter Me at Small Isles Bay

John told us he collapsed at the end of the Jura fell race. That it nearly killed him; that it was HELL.
He was back the following year, of course, with a tribe of us.
Runners, partners, collies, kids. All camped at the flat, open space by the Jura Hotel - the only pub on the island.
Each Whit weekend, I'd roam the open hillsides and admire the rare flowers, like fallen stars cushioned by verdant moss.
Watch the runners on the Paps in the distance flailing, sliding down scree.
Cheer them at the finish line.
Buy John a drammie, after.
He was a foodie; at Tebay motorway services he'd be like a kid in a middle class sweet shop, bounding around. Buying posh pies and 100% cocoa chocolate.
He gave me his recipe for sloe gin.
Asexual, aromantic and child-free - he had a packed social life.
So it didn't surprise me, when some friends broke down his door. They hadn't heard from him in three whole days.
Found him unconscious on his kitchen floor.
He spent Christmas and Easter in a hospice bed, tended by compassionate nurses, his brain tumour slowed, not stopped.
I was almost the last to visit; I phoned his best mate and said, "Get there. He won't last the night."
John's ninety-year-old dad told me he never expected to outlive his son.

We scattered John's ashes at Small Isles Bay.
The whole tribe: Runners, partners, collies, kids.
All stood in silence on the sand, surrounded by striped rocks studded with quartz and shimmering in the sun.
I kept wading into the sea, to stop my bare feet burning.
How strange, I thought, that such a rich, full existence was now dust carried in an urn. Scattered on the beach. Swept away by waves.
Except it wasn't, because life goes on,
In memories.
Ullapool Book Festival. Pennine pub crawls. Yuletide club run, when he'd always dress as a nun.
Whenever I stop at Tebay, I get posh chocolate and think of John.

 

[Anonymous]

The silent cemetery awakes
Death is verdant in this place of graves
Lusty, exuberant May still comes here
Dressed richly in watercolor box hues
Without a care that mourners may
resent her lack of compassion
for their open grief


In the morning peonies and plastic roses
are packed into the backs of station wagons
for those whose names we mustn't forget
my child's eye saw ghosts welcoming us
seated on their tombstones, clapping silently
drumming their heels in glee to see us
The remembering holiday

Memorial Days
Back in the 1960s were for stories
about great grandfathers,cousins etc
followed by picnics with 6 kinds of pie
each Aunt's fried chicken recipe differed
Thirsty I drank from a tap only to be told
Coffins are down there

Cousin Jack went to prison
He was highway patrol but shot a man
to save him from burning alive in his truck
Now, I can never forget Cousin Jack

 

[Anonymous]

The recipe for compassion

Is to be open

to the silent richness

of the verdant world.

 

[Anonymous]

There’s a cold wind blowing from the east this morn

So I grieve for the ruin of the coat I’ve torn

I’ll open all the windows, let the sun shine on

Certain by tomorrow I’ll be gone

Mother had a recipe for trying times

The ink has faded but I know the lines

She called it compassion with a hint of wine

The grapes have withered on the vine

Rich are the gifts on the day you’re born

Silence is the answer to your old swan song

Never found a shoulder to lean on

Certain by tomorrow I’ll be gone

I have my ticket and I paid the price

Every new venture is a roll of the dice

Hope I can settle down somewhere nice

There never is an end to sacrifice

There’s a cold wind blowing from the east this morn

The verdant country I once called home

Shuns me today at the break of dawn

Certain by tomorrow I’ll be gone

 

[Anonymous]

Better Living Through Chemistry


The lush and verdant wood of my dream
smells of honeysuckle and mock orange
its' neon green beckons my senses
Expecting solace and joy I walk in

Tho it seems right, something is wrong.
It's as silent as a grave yawning open.
No birds call or warn from it's trees.
No grazing bees hum to themselves.

Then I realize the scents are not real.
They are a mere chemical recipe,
tricking my auto brain into smelling,
the bold perfumes of high summer.

Its' artificially leafy branches
are as empty of richly, riotous life
as a factory farm is of compassion.
I awake sweaty afraid of sleep

Tugging up my farmhouse's sticky sash
I lean out hoping to hear owls hunting.
I breathe in the musk of rotting earth
beetles, mushrooms, gormless worms.

I tell the sterile gibbous moon
my vision cannot be the future.
It's dead face turns to me
unable to speak

 

[Emily]

Congratulations (once again! This is becoming quite the habit!!) @RG Worsey!

Thanks to everyone who took part, it was a close shave this month

 

[Matthew Snoding]

Well done @RG Worsey

 

[Dorm Ant]

Cheers. I should be at least a lev 5 by now? Anyway, who wrote Better Living Through Chemistry? That final verse rocked.

 

[Hannah F]

Congrats @RG Worsey

 

[Pamela Jo]

Congrats! RG! Better living through Chemistry, that would be me. Appreciate the call out.

 

[Julie]

Congratulations @RG Worsey , which one was yours?

 

[Emily]

@Galadriel , this is @RG Worsey 's winning entry https://colony.litopia.com/threads/may-flash-club-contest.10885/post-127232

(And do I spy a newborn?!?!)

 

[Pamela Jo]

@Galadriel , this is @RG Worsey 's winning entry https://colony.litopia.com/threads/may-flash-club-contest.10885/post-127232

(And do I spy a newborn?!?!)

I wondered, decided it just be an old pic, because how could Galadriel do as much as she does and be the mother of a newborn... If that's a newbie-Mazeltov to both parties. Baby for being born to such a cool family. Mama for creating such a lovely work of art.

 

[Dorm Ant]

I wondered, decided it just be an old pic, because how could Galadriel do as much as she does and be the mother of a newborn... If that's a newbie-Mazeltov to both parties. Baby for being born to such a cool family. Mama for creating such a lovely work of art.

I thought she said her daughter had had a baby?

 

[Emily]

I wondered, decided it just be an old pic, because how could Galadriel do as much as she does and be the mother of a newborn... If that's a newbie-Mazeltov to both parties. Baby for being born to such a cool family. Mama for creating such a lovely work of art.

I know its utterly hard to believe, but that's Galadriel's grandchild, even though she doesn't look old enough to have children, let alone grandchildren!!!

 

[Pamela Jo]

I know its utterly hard to believe, but that's Galadriel's grandchild, even though she doesn't look old enough to have children, let alone grandchildren!!!

Where's the gob smacked emoji!? Galadriel it's a lovely portrait. Long life, love and happiness to mama and baby.

 

[Julie]

@Galadriel , this is @RG Worsey 's winning entry https://colony.litopia.com/threads/may-flash-club-contest.10885/post-127232

(And do I spy a newborn?!?!)

Yep, baby Arthur - gawd, love him!

 

[Julie]

I wondered, decided it just be an old pic, because how could Galadriel do as much as she does and be the mother of a newborn... If that's a newbie-Mazeltov to both parties. Baby for being born to such a cool family. Mama for creating such a lovely work of art.

My womb has def finished with baby-making! @Pamela Jo It’s my first grandson after a swathe of lovely girls.

 

[Julie]

I know its utterly hard to believe, but that's Galadriel's grandchild, even though she doesn't look old enough to have children, let alone grandchildren!!!

Aww, shucks. Sorry these are all such late replies, I’ve been away on a residential without contact with internet, etc.

 

[Julie]

Oh, and regarding @RG Worsey ’s entry - I LOVED it! No wonder it won. Gave me goosebumps reading it xx Beautiful writing, Ronnie xx

 

[Dorm Ant]

Oh, and regarding @RG Worsey ’s entry - I LOVED it! No wonder it won. Gave me goosebumps reading it xx Beautiful writing, Ronnie xx

That's a lovely thing to say, thank you. I wasn't initially going to take part, as I am inexperienced with attempting poetry, though May always reminds me of those trips to Jura and Ullapool with John and the other fell runners, so I tried to express that feeling. Maybe I should explore poetry more.

 

[Julie]

That's a lovely thing to say, thank you. I wasn't initially going to take part, as I am inexperienced with attempting poetry, though May always reminds me of those trips to Jura and Ullapool with John and the other fell runners, so I tried to express that feeling. Maybe I should explore poetry more.

Definitely @RGWorsey; after all, you did win the May Flash Club. Atmospheric and passionate. Yes, do explore poetry more.