Post your short story/Review crappy short stories thread (58)

4 Name: Ansur2 : 2005-12-09 01:12 ID:HSRtkP9I

Here, to be fair, I won't give 10 whole minutes of material, but some poems I had to finish recently for a class:
________________________________________
Red Marrow’s Beginning

“Now and then we had a hope that if we lived and were good, God would permit us to be pirates.”

  • Mark Twain

I remember my first day on a ship,
my legs like my brother’s bodhrans,
beating out her measure.

I worked hard aside the crew,
my mouth dry like it longed home,
air’s salt keeping my tongue sticky.

By lunch, my hands were likely to bleed,
unfamiliar calluses swimming up my fingers,
but knots tied tight reassured my worth.

I feared falling off firm rigging,
too excited by horizon’s potential to pay
attention to my hands’ attempts to lead me up.

Dinner called my nose downward,
into the womb of Whore’s Necklace, diving into
mugs of fresh water, and the bite of orange.

Though limp from a long day above,
I could not sway my mind away from the crew’s
stories that one day I might tell.

My back protested the rough hemp swing,
but quieted as I kept my mother’s lullaby strung
throughout the cabin; the other men’s breath slowed.
_______________________________________________________

Upon Learning that Another Homecoming Will be Spent in Defeat
or
Cavalier– 21 ; Pirates– 2

CLANG
and another one goes down,
dented and gaping
in the Williamson’s driveway.

The metal numbs my hands through
my fingerless gloves,
and my nose feels gone, hacked off
by the cold wind.

But I won’t come back in the truck,
hanging out for all the woods to see,
my pigtails whip into my face,
my brother, behind the wheel, hollers at me -

but the words don’t reach my ears as my bat
wreaks vengeance for a game sorely lost,
another Cavalier mailbox (a Johnson this time)
eats aluminum.
_____________________________________________________

A Child’s Game

Duck
You sit in a circle
The rhythm of words
Punctuated
Only by the
Space
Between children.

Duck
Fear of
Exclusion
Grows at each revolution,
As her hand
Pats and passes
You by.

Goose
Then, as she
Hits
Harder than before,
Yelling the magic word -
You give chase,
Your hand outstretched,
Waiting for a
Touch.
_____________________________________________

Enjoy!

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