27 March 2013

What's Next?

Black clouds reach
down, obliterate the mountains first,
but surely just hidden; then
the hills, houses, trees. Thick
fog fingers? Then vineyards, groves, grass-
gone. One by one- gone. Acid
seeps into earth, dissolves all. Dark
ooze is left. It creeps
slowly towards me.
Am I...


This is in response to Mama Zen, the master of short poems, over at Imaginary Gardens with Real Toads to describe what we see out our window in 50 words or less but make it scary.

28 comments:

  1. I love how the narrator quite never finishes the poem, allowing the reader to imagine that they too are being consumed by the dark ooze.

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    1. I had some fun with this prompt helped by our dark clouds and fog. Thanks for stopping by.

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  2. Ooh, ooze. Seriously creepy stuff, and conjures up very Poe-like images. Well done.
    K

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  3. Oh, this is like a horror movie! Love it!

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    1. That was the intention, right? Fun prompt, MZ.

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    1. It's a new but fascinating genre.

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  5. eeep! run, get in the basement...scary stuff...ha...shortly after the oil spill i wrote a pseudo horror story about the rain...because the men cleaning up the spill were getting burned by the water...

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    1. truth is stranger than fiction...

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  6. Yep, that was scary. Creeping mud... :-)

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  7. That was a sneaking up, suffocating creepy -- nicely done

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  8. Leaving it to the imagination, I see!

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    1. you never know what might happen...

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  9. 'am I' .... this is one scary ending!!!

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  10. The fogs fingers... yikes!

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  11. Love the way you ended it, causing each reader to conclude in his/her own way!

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  12. The image here:

    "Thick/fog fingers?" Love that!! Great poem!

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    1. I got that from Margaret- I like it too.

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  13. Fog is always ominous--and when you combine it with an acidic appetite, I'm thinking you nailed the scary totally here.

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    1. Thanks, Hedge, I enjoyed this one. Yours was amazing altogether!

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