SCI-FAE

A prompt response for ~Inspiration Monday: Sci-Fae

http://bekindrewrite.com

Images © John and Margaret

SCI-FAE

by John Yeo

 I woke up in a haze of non recognition of where I was, who I was and how I had arrived here.

Everything was strangely unrealistic, unusual, unrecognisable a colourful arena on a world of kaleidoscopic strangeness. As if a disturbed artist had poured and continued to pour his paint in rivulets of colour on an ever changing landscape. An orange flare dazzled the permanent light that shone from the multi coloured suns lighting up the distant horizon with a green fire that seemed to be all-consuming. Billows of purple steam suddenly sounded loudly, hissing and spluttering as blue liquid stone flowed down a yellow ochre liquid bed on a river of jagged rocky liquid. There was a silent crash of electric thunder as a winged figure sped up from the bowels of the middle sky. Emerging from a point that mystically merged with the pink of a rising horizon and the disappearance of the future into the past. A point in time that was midway between now and then.

 “Welcome to the world of Sci Fae!”  Boomed a falsetto base sound, that seemed to convey communication as if a note composed of a base clef swimming in an ocean of liquid soprano had arrived together to assault the ears with pure music.

 Then a loud buzzing as an alarm sounded on the machine that lay in waiting. An information loaded gadget waiting for the button to be pressed to silence the alarm.

  I tore myself away from my dreamworld of the night, to face the familiar mundane music of snarling, honking, beeping traffic that I would certainly become a part of soon. An alarming prospect indeed.

“Morning Darling!” I mumbled as I dragged myself out of bed.

Copyright © Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved.

img_9739

http://bekindrewrite.com

 

 

APRIL~ ”POEM-A-DAY”~DAY SEVENTEEN~ SWING POEM:

For today’s prompt, write a swing poem. Sure, there are park swings and mood swings; there’s swing music and swing dancing; and there are swingers. Some people swing one way; others swing another. In politics, there are swing votes and swing states. And many people have swung a bat, an ax, and/or a hammer in their lifetimes.

image

Image © Copyright John and Margaret

SWING POEM

by John Yeo

Thoughts drift as I lie here,

I remember my days at school.

Wooden desks and dipping pens,

Playtime in the playground.

 

“Wake up John! Please come back.”

The distant words hardly penetrate

My dreamy haze of thought.

I swing from the present, back in time.

 

I remember the country lanes as a boy,

The sun always seemed to shine.

Fishing with a pole on the local canal,

Then on to secondary school.

 

My mind jolts as the voice repeats,

“Wake up John! Please come back.”

I swing from the past to the present,

Then I swing into dreaming again.

 

“Open your eyes John, I am here”

I swing back to the now with love.

The healing sound of love in your voice,

“Come back please, I need you here! “

 

You stroke my head, my mind swings forward,

I take your tender hand.

“I am never going to leave you, ever,

I am sure you understand.”

 

Copyright (c) Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved.

Written for Robert Lee Brewer’s Poetic asides blog on “Writers Digest”

http://www.writersdigest.com/whats-new/2015-april-pad-challenge-day-17

First 50 Words~In the Garage

REALITY

The rain was pelting down and it was freezing cold. I was standing at the bus stop waiting for a bus to take me to work. A friend driving by, shouted. “Hi John, where is your car? ” Through gritted teeth, I replied. “In the garage, getting repaired!” Then I thought to myself, I will give up food before I give up my car!

Written by John Yeo ©