As The Sirens Scream
February Poppy Prompt Entry
As the sirens scream,
A windchime permeates their deafening cry.
The blue lights beckon closer, a rising tide,
What once seemed solid, now a mere sandcastle, trapped, awaiting it’s erosion as the pair collide.
A sharp breathe in, the cold air feels thin,
Imagining postcards on bare grey walls, postcards of places you’ve never been.
A slow exhale,
The world fades away,
A swift movement to un-cock hammers the final coffin nail.
As the sirens scream,
A final rush of adrenaline makes a river where was a bloodstream.
This life shall not end inside a cage,
A defending bang, finality for the wild-eyed, who chose over bending to stiffen inside the grave.
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This is an entry for Poppy's Prompts #2, attempting to use all 5 of the word prompts in the same poem. (Sirens, Wind Chimes, Sandcastles, Postcard, Grave.) You can find a link to the challenge embedded below.
About the Creator
Tommy Ballard
I'm a professional writer, a poet, a digital artist and an amateur musician. In my free time, I can often be found pondering magnets, breaking and entering random homes to steal locks of human hair and throwing car batteries into the ocean.
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=// nights \\=
Although I already put in an entry for RM Stockton's February Write Club challenge, I thought of this last night while I was in bed thinking of this prompt and felt it worthwhile to write it down for the challenge as well. The challenge is embedded below.
By Tommy Ballard3 months ago in Poets
We'z Walking on a Path Ruled By Numbers
This road has felt endless, yet limited; every step tracked. Inching away along this path, I feel trapped. Confined. Left to this narrow passage that may one day amount to something greater. Time is not a concept. Only distance. From start to finish, I laugh and cry and attempt to convince myself that this is worth it. I cannot stray. I must keep going. Every step etched, is a step taken, is measured as more than before. I cannot even recall how I got here. Maybe I don’t even really exist. Just another tick marking off a perceived presence. Of what though? I am just another line drawn. Nothing more, nothing less.
By Oneg In The Arctic5 days ago in Fiction
Comments (5)
I am hopeless at prompts like this. The words feel shoehorned in, every time. You made it look easy. 👍
Nicely done!
So well done!! "Imagining postcards on bare grey walls, postcards of places you’ve never been." Wow that's amazing!! "A final rush of adrenaline makes a river where was a bloodstream." Incredible line!!
Brilliant use of all those five words! Very well done! Loved your poem!
Well done using all five prompts!