Posts Tagged ‘Blood’
Aug
Hermitage
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Harvest missed, starlings busy with unworked seed, overripe corn, a laugh with the scarecrow – leave toward evening. Leaves of fall turn red like the blood fingering across the green linoleum kitchen floor after the thud of the back of your head, split like a too-ripe pumpkin. A widower falls in the kitchen, no one hears it, did it make a sound? The trees in the yard mourn the wood you stacked anticipating winter, as it dries, rots, quietly decays. Equinoxes later it splinters, skips off across tan, fallow fields in a cold wind, wet with the rustle of black wings.
From Guest Contributor Craig Kirchner
Craig thinks of poetry as hobo art. He loves storytelling and the aesthetics of the paper and pen. He was nominated twice for the Pushcart Prize, and has a book of poetry, Roomful of Navels. After a writing hiatus is being published and has work forthcoming in a dozen or so journals.
Jul
Accompaniment
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Almost every morning
it’s the same old ambient toss-up:
Susumu Yokota or Lazybatusu.
Some days, neither flips his switch;
some days: nothing but nothing. Silence.
(He neither needs nor wants either one.)
Some days—especially days he’s up early—
he just sits and types, humming his own theme:
he calls it Lazysusubatsumu Yakotoma.
He hums and writes and writes again
until everything comes out right,
or his fingers start to bleed.
Even then, though,
intent on his mission
he encourages the hemorrhage.
He’s stumbled onto something good;
he’s just got to keep at it
until it sings on its own.
From Guest Contributor Ron. Lavalette
Ron.’s debut chapbook, Fallen Away (Finishing Line Press) is now available at all standard outlets. Many of his published works can be found at EGGS OVER TOKYO.
Jun
Zombies
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
The question. Do nanobots work? Does the Graphene oxide poisoning cause Biden’s dementia statement that US will be facing in 15 years? Remember his rambling in 2021. Seeing a future when everyone has Dementia or Alzheimer’s?
The truth?
The Graphene in the vaccine made those not reading the contract property of some DARPA weapon system.
In the end it makes people nuts in time.
Zombies?
I remember on Sagittarius thermonuclear war. in Zachariah. The Blood shall rise to a horse’s bridle.
I now live on Orion and Zechariah if you read seems to indicate zombies or werewolves. Just not sure which.
From Guest Contributor Clinton Siegle
May
Doctor Burke
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Doctor Burke’s hands are steadfast as he performs the intricate surgery. The patient has lost blood and the bullet is lodged in his abdomen.
Nurse Benson hands him the scalpel and he gently removes the bullet, but the patient begins to code. Burke uses the defibrillator and after several attempts the man flatlines. The time of death is 3:52pm.
Nurse Benson approaches. “You did everything you could.”
On the way home, all he thinks about is the loss.
When he walks in the door, his wife is waiting with red wine and dinner.
She asks how his first surgery went.
From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher
Apr
Papa
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
I slip through alleys to get to the resistance and relay the information I have learned. The black out starts and the only sound is the rustling of my dress.
I hear footsteps and then a voice. “Halt! Papers.”
“Certainly. My father is sick and needed medicine. I had to go across town to the only doctor available.”
There’s something in his eyes that I don’t trust. I stab him through the gut. I’m almost in the clear and then a shot rings out. Blood soaks through my dress, I gasp for air and then collapse.
See you soon, Papa.
From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher
Apr
His Majesty
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
The king sits on his throne with a large and excruciating chest wound. The room is filled with blood and lifeless bodies, his men.
The beautifully decorated hall is covered in blood and the delicately prepared meat and fruit sit untouched never to be eaten.
The king hasn’t much time. He can’t feel his legs and his body is cold. He reaches for his ring and struggles with his weak fingers to remove it. As he releases it, he slumps over and the ring drops to the ground, the noise echoing in the quiet.
His Majesty will soon be replaced.
From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher
Feb
Imminent
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
The blow knocks me and my horse to the ground. I reach for my sword and swing at the enemy, his roars deafening. My leg is cut, and the breath is knocked out of me, but I endure the pain for my king and country.
Another foe is coming toward me. A comrade rushes to my aide and stabs him in the abdomen. He gushes blood from the mouth and dies.
I manage to fend off my attacker for now. One of us will tire.
And so, it seems death is imminent for him as my sword pierces his heart.
From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher
Dec
Sexy Beast
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
The sky that bleeds at dawn burns at dusk. I steep in the blood and flames as a kind of penance, but not for doing a recognizable wrong – for doing nothing. The honey bees are diseased and dying. The birds on the wire shake as though likewise afflicted. From somewhere nearby comes a shockingly loud bang. “Was that a gunshot?” I ask the first person I see stumble out, a diminutive woman of indeterminate age with unnaturally bright red hair. She squeezes my arm and begs for help. But I also would rather do the tying than be tied up.
From Guest Contributor Howie Good
Howie’s latest poetry books are The Horse Were Beautiful, available from Grey Book Press, and Swimming in Oblivion: New and Selected Poems from Redhawk Publications.
Nov
Scars
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
I weave between trees, around my bike and up the stairs. The screen door slams in my wake. Through the kitchen, I run for my room. Behind me, my brother stretches out his Gumby-hand. He’s within inches of touching my skin. Inside, a tick is dying to suck my blood.
Years later, I’ll run on the beach. You’ll chase me with something in your hand. Perhaps a periwinkle plucked from a nearby dune. You’ll hand it to me and smile. Say you love me. I’ll take it, hold the flower to my nose, and wonder what it wants from me.
From Guest Contributor Sally Simon
Sally (ze/hir) lives in NY. When not writing, ze travels and stabs people with hir epee. Read more at www.sallysimonwriter.com.
Nov
Chaos
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
George fires his rifle, and the bullet hits the enemy in the gut. The man lands with a thud, and blood drips from his mouth. George seeks cover in a nearby ditch, men screaming and dying all around. The sun is fading, and the firing hasn’t stopped. He can’t stay there any longer. One of his comrades jumps in.
“Charles, we need to get out soon or we’ll be sitting ducks.”
They wait until the firing slows and run.
George gets to the other side, but Charles gets fatally shot in the chaos.
George continues running and never looks back.
From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher