Expanding Wee Bits of Dark Fiction and Poetry, 8

Since I’m hosting my Expanding Wee Bits of Dark Fiction and Poetry only a couple of times a month, the selection tends to grow quite large. So I’m giving you a quintet to choose from.

I’ve listed five of the Poetic Bits I’ve shared on Instagram, Facebook and on my archival blog this last couple of weeks. Leave a comment letting me know which Bit you would like to see grow into a story or a full-length poem, and I shall develop the one with the most votes. Please make your choice before Wednesday, February 17 at 12:13am EST.

1) Which bit do you wish me to develop?
2) Would you like your choice to be flash fiction or longer poetry?
3) *optional* Why?

Here is the short list:

“Be More”
Make a crypt
for society and guilt.
Will your spirit free.
Wish, grow, feel,
be more.
– created out of words from Edgar Allan Poe and Sigmund Freud magnetic poetry kits

“Storm”
She kisses a storm on his skin;
and in his heart
lies desire.
– created out of words from Edgar Allan Poe and Sigmund Freud magnetic poetry kits

“Blood and Midnight”
She birthed tales
feathered in blood
and midnight.
– inspired by THIS page in an adult coloring book

“Foul”
thorn-less rose, manmade
wintry nights of naked blooms—
our Gaia cries foul

“Sardines”
squeezed like sardines, men
ride connected cans on rails—
rush hour in New York

.

art in the NYC subwayart in the NYC subway
via

Belief-Made Rainbows

My hands have been feeling rather stiff lately, so I decided to color a bit. When I examined my masterpiece, I thought it looked as if the moon had dressed up for a party hosted by Dr. Seuss and Coldplay. Then I noticed she was wearing a mask and concluded that like many others, the moon, too, was celebrating the start of the Year of the Fire Monkey. It makes perfect sense…

“Belief-Made Rainbows”

On the first night
of the Fire Monkey,
she eclipsed her eye
with night’s coal,
decked her shine
with fiery ribbons,
and crimsoned her lips

until the stars rose green
with pure celestial envy.
Dr. Seuss and Coldplay
bloomed her a garden
on a stage of soil.

My cackles and I danced
for her, clad in nothing
but belief-made rainbows.

.
linked to Poets United, Poetry Pantry 289
and to the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads, Tuesday Platform
Belief-Made Rainbows