EVASIVE ACTION 

THURSDAY 6th MAY 2021 ~ FLASH FICTION ~ POETRY

This poem is a response to a prompt provided by WordPress

PROMPT ~ Evasive action
What’s the most significant secret you’ve ever kept? Did the truth ever come out?

EVASIVE ACTION 

by John Yeo

After it happened, I desperately sought for a retraction

When I heard you I turned scarlet with embarrassment, 

The secret you trusted me with leads to evasive action.

My whole response to you was a thoughtful chain reaction 

Why did you choose me to take into your confidence?

After it happened, I desperately sought for a retraction.

The secret you trusted me with led to evasive action.

~

My response to your secret drives me to total distraction 

How do I respond to a confession of wicked malevolence 

The secret you trusted me with leads to evasive action.

To prejudice a long time friendship with risky overreaction 

The information you trusted me with didn’t make sense

After it happened, I desperately sought for a retraction.

The secret you trusted me with led to evasive action.

~

I respect your wish for my promise of trustworthy inaction

Although you have driven me to the extremes of sentiment

The secret you trusted me with leads to evasive action.

I value a friendship that has brought much satisfaction 

A bond that has cemented a close, safe, stable environment 

After it happened, I desperately sought for a retraction.

The secret you trusted me with led to evasive action.

~

© Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved

THE POWER OF WORDS

MONDAY 5th APRIL 2021

This is a response to a Flash Fiction prompt from ‘The Daily Post on WordPress’  

Prompt ~Share the Love

Tell us about another blogger who has influenced your own online journey.

Crows roosting by Patrick White – 15/09/1948 – 01/03/2014.

THE POWER OF WORDS

by John Yeo

  It was ten years ago when I first came into contact with a man who had a big influence on my writing. 

  I followed his writing on a daily basis, overwhelmed with his poetry. He would write a long powerful poem on a daily basis and publish it on his Facebook page. It was to become a joy for me to wake in the morning and to start my day by reading his latest overnight post. I began commenting daily on his published poem and receiving a response. We became good online friends, to the point of him signing off by always sending. ‘Love to Margaret,’ my wife.  

He was also a brilliant and accomplished artist, often displaying and selling his work online.

Sadly he passed away on the first of March, 2014.

PATRICK WHITE R.I.P.

by John Yeo

Tragedy; a situation that can be woven into verse?

Not a difficult question for the power of the pen.

Read the question closely, memorise every word.

Take whatever comes into mind and spin it.

I remember a friend I made on the internet once,

A creative poet with a magical mind.

I would wake every day and devour his work

Then we would take time to greet each other.

~

The poetic spells he had woven overnight

Were gems of wisdom and poetic thought.

With the communication of his imagination 

He became a friend, a guide and an inspiration.

Slowly his verse became darker and darker;

My friend was living on borrowed time.

A terminal evil began to darken his verse

As he described in poetry his fight for life.

~

One deep, black moment before the dawn,

I looked for my friend but his magic was gone.

Gone to new horizons to record infinity,

A comet travelling through the universe

Swamped in the starmud of eternal time.

As dawn suffocated the starlight completely

I knew my friend had breathed his last.

Leaving a brilliant legacy of poetic tragedy.

Copyright © Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved.

~~~~~

Advice from a talented well-respected poet and artist

Patrick White (15/09/1948 – 01/03/2014)

‘I Often employ a Sufi practice in my poems, called scattering. You seed the wind with so many flowers, stars, images, the border guards of front door consciousness are overwhelmed by them to the extent that they start coming in the undefended… back door of the subconscious that listens to and hears everything without missing a thing. The point is to get in first, and then let the conscious mind find a place for them to settle. As for the form, its dynamic, not static and runs like a northern river back to its source, with all the inflections of water, whitewater, still water, falling water etc. reflecting the various moods and intensities of the poet along the way.’ Patrick White