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Showing posts from June, 2013

Wordless Wednesday - Lily

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Lily - A bird's eye view from above







Stop crying, Roger!

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Darn, just missed the prompt deadline. Oh well. I did it anyhow. I had fun with it.

http://writetribe.com/write-tribe-wednesday-prompt/

Here’s how it works: Use the photograph below as your prompt.
Write your thoughts, a story, a poem on your blog.
Try to restrict the word count to about 500 words.
Use the linky below to add the link to your post (exact URL, please).
The prompt is open until next Tuesday night, i.e. 25 June 2013. Thanks to MorgueFile for the photo (http://mrg.bz/LsH3I1). 
Stop Crying, Roger  427 words “Oh Roger! Stop that crying and act like a man. You’re such a big baby."
“But Mom. I always cry when Bambi’s mother gets shot. You know it’s my favourite movie.”
“Honestly. Get over it already. What are you watching that for? You’re fifty-five years old, for goodness sake.”
“I can’t help it, Mom. I like that movie. Besides, I’m a sensitive guy. All the girls say that just before they dump me.”
“Dump you? Don’t tell me Dolores dumped you? Did she? And after all that work I did matc…

When did you know you were a writer?

“I am participating in the ‘Writing Contest: You Are A Writer’ held by Positive Writer.” - http://positivewriter.com/writing-contest-you-are-a-writer/#sthash.a3HEvFZr.dpuf
For years I used to think of writers as larger-than-life human beings, apart from us ordinary mortals. I pictured them sitting down at their computers or typewriters in the olden days, at any time of day, tapping out words of great brilliance without any effort. Of course their first drafts would be totally perfect and their phones would ring constantly with agents and editors clamouring for their work. They’d even have to turn some away, they’d be so busy. I certainly wasn’t a writer by those definitions.
I’ve always loved writing ever since I was a little girl living in a world of make believe. Nothing thrilled me more than spending endless hours writing stories and drawing pictures. A new notebook and a pack of crayons could keep me happy for hours while other kids were outside playing games in the sunshine. I didn…

7x7x7x7 writing prompt for Write Tribe

http://writetribe.com/7x7x7x7-writing-prompt/

This is my silly poem based on the 7x7x7x7 writing prompt from the Write Tribe.
Here is the first line which is the seventh sentence from the seventh page of a children’s book called “100 Classic Stories.” It was a porridge pot but I can’t help picturing some nondescript hairy beast with hooves and a mind of its own.
Then, one day, it trotted straight out the door It left muddy hoofprints all over the floor, I chased it but never did catch the beast Last I heard it had headed East, Once again it had broken free, I decided I would just let it be And wait for it to return to me.

Umwelt

Umwelt (367 words)
“Umwelt,” Kira’s forehead wrinkled as she read the term in her psychology textbook. ”What a peculiar word. Have you heard of it, Ron?”
“Um...what?” Ron said, looking up from the couch where he was falling asleep in front of the TV.
“Wouldn’t you be much more comfortable in your bed?” Kira said with a sigh. Ron constantly fell asleep in front of the television. Talk about a creature of habit after thirty-five years of marriage.
Kira adjusted the reading glasses on her nose and read further, accompanied by Ron’s snoring. “Umwelten are the "biological foundations that lie at the very epicenter of the study of bothcommunicationandsignificationin the human [and non-human] animal.The term is usually translated as "self-centered world".Uexküll theorised that organisms can have different umwelten, even though they share the same environment.
An organism creates and reshapes its own Umwelt when it interacts with the world. This is termed a 'functional circle&#…

Why I write

Sometimes I wonder why I write I even wonder in the dark of night, Racing thoughts keep me awake Why can’t they give me a break? Too many thoughts with nowhere to go Some are disjointed and others flow, Thoughts of hate, thoughts of sadness, Thoughts of love and thoughts of gladness, Poems, stories, and even my blog Float around in my mind’s soupy bog, I ladle them out to make sense of the mess What I will create is anyone’s guess, That is why I have to write Can you identify with my plight?