CCC 49: Whitlingham Boy

Posted on October 17, 2019 by crispina kemp

CCC#49

Hey, Whitlingham Boy, are you going to snorkel?
In that ridiculous get up, you make me chortle.
Your flippered feet scare the fish as they slap into water,
A quieter approach is what you oughta.
Done up like that you’ll see nothing but rubbish dumped by the uncaring,
You’d see much more if you changed what you’re wearing.
Whitlingham Boy, fin-flipping into the water,
Change your gear, that’s what you oughta.

73 words written for Crimson’s Creative Challenge

I found Whitlingham Boy at Whitlingham Country Park on the outskirts of Nowich. It’s carved as one piece from a tree.

Posted in Photos, Poems (Some Silly) | Tagged , , , | 27 Comments

Crimson’s Creative Challenge #49

Posted on October 16, 2019 by crispina kemp

CCC#49

Welcome to my weekly challenge—open to all—just for FUN, FUN, FUN

Here’s how it works:

Every Wednesday I post a photo (this week it’s that one above.)
You respond with something CREATIVE

Here are some suggestions:

  • An answering photo
  • A cartoon
  • A joke
  • A caption
  • An anecdote
  • A short story (flash fiction)
  • A poem
  • A newly minted proverb, adage or saying
  • An essay
  • A song—the lyrics or the performance

You have plenty of scope and only two criteria:

  • Your creative offering is indeed yours
  • Your writing is kept to 150 words or less

If you post a link in the comments section of this post I’ll be able to find it
If you include Crimson’s Creative Challenge as a heading, WP Search will find it (theory)
by ‘Searching’ in the WP Reader (fingers crossed)

Here’s wishing you inspirational explosions. And FUN.

Posted in Crimson's Creative Challenge, Photos | Tagged , , | 50 Comments

Leave My Brain

Posted on October 15, 2019 by crispina kemp

image by John Hain on pixabay

Replace this face with one that’s younger, fresher, not so worn
Replace this back with one that’s stronger, not so aching, not so torn
Replace this neck with one that’s looser, with traps that aren’t so tight
Replace this wrist, the one I broke, this one on the right
Replace these hips, crumbling with the many miles they’ve walked
Replace this voice, husky from the many nights I’ve talked
Replace the thumbs before, with nerves compressed, they numb
Replace it all but… please… leave me my brain and mind

 

89 words written for Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt

Posted in Poems (Some Silly) | Tagged , | 53 Comments

What Pegman Saw: The Lie

Posted on October 14, 2019 by crispina kemp

Washington DC by pigeons planet on google maps

Twenty years he held to that lie. Twenty years and not a slip in his words. Until his dear “friend” died.

Told me he was going to Washington to see his mother, who was ailing. In truth, he went shark fishing with his “friend” off the coast of Florida.

Why did he lie? There wasn’t the need. We’d only just met; I’d have understood that his arrangement with his “friend” took precedence over me.

And then it slipped out, the day he received the news. I bit my lip, I turned away. His “friend” had been gay.

97 words, written for What Pegman Saw: Washington DC

Posted in Mostly Micro | Tagged , | 30 Comments

Sunday Picture Post: Black Bryony’s Traffic Lights Berries

Posted on October 13, 2019 by crispina kemp

While it’s true that Black Bryony’s berries are red, they pass through several colours on their way.

A Black Bryony vine winds to way along a bramble briar: 8th October 2019

I was late in finding them this year; I almost missed the lights.

Posted in Photos | Tagged , | 64 Comments

I Have the Power

Posted on October 12, 2019 by crispina kemp

A farmer’s wind turbines, while in the distance pylons carry power from the National Grid. To my mind, the photo qualifies for the title: Technology

A farmer’s personal wind-farm: 8th October 2019

For details of #2019picoftheweek challenge see MariaAntonia

Posted in Photos | Tagged , | 25 Comments

CCC#48: The Old Red Bridge

Posted on October 10, 2019 by crispina kemp

Crimson’s Creative Challenge #48

No longer does it carry a thoroughfare
No more do the horses draw clattering carts here
Alas, the ancient bricks now in slow decay
The Old Red Bridge has had its day
Now tiddlers paddle with their jars
Arriving here in comfy cars
Where once with a flourish we snatched up the crayfish
Now even they are much diminished
A dirge, I lament, a eulogy, for gravel’s all that’s now found here.

Posted in Crimson's Creative Challenge, Mostly Micro, Photos, Poems (Some Silly) | Tagged , , | 48 Comments

Crimson’s Creative Challenge #48

Posted on October 9, 2019 by crispina kemp

#CCC48

Welcome to my weekly challenge—open to all—just for FUN, FUN, FUN

Here’s how it works:

Every Wednesday I post a photo (this week it’s that one above.)
You respond with something CREATIVE

Here are some suggestions:

  • An answering photo
  • A cartoon
  • A joke
  • A caption
  • An anecdote
  • A short story (flash fiction)
  • A poem
  • A newly minted proverb, adage or saying
  • An essay
  • A song—the lyrics or the performance

You have plenty of scope and only two criteria:

  • Your creative offering is indeed yours
  • Your writing is kept to 150 words or less

If you post a link in the comments section of this post I’ll be able to find it
If you include Crimson’s Creative Challenge as a heading, WP Search will find it (theory)
by ‘Searching’ in the WP Reader (fingers crossed)

Here’s wishing you inspirational explosions. And FUN.

Red Bridge over River Tud at Costessey, just outside Norwich.

Posted in Crimson's Creative Challenge, Photos | Tagged , | 81 Comments

The Raven and the Maiden

Posted on October 8, 2019 by crispina kemp

image by WillGard on pixabay

The red brick tower where, when the Proddy-men came prodding,
once hid the devout green robed maiden;
this decaying ivy climbed Elizabethan ruin,
instead of the lady’s haven, is now the raven’s

32 words written for Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt

Posted in History, Mostly Micro, Poems (Some Silly) | Tagged , | 22 Comments

What Pegman Saw: My Horsehead Fiddle

Posted on October 7, 2019 by crispina kemp

Mongolia by BRA… on google maps

Sükhe regarded the dead body of his once-perfect white horse… and wailed louder than the wind that tore o’er the land. The hand of his neighbour’s lord was in that. All that day, Sükhe wept, his father despairing he’d ever stop weeping.

Hush, his horse whispered to him in the night. Dry your eyes and listen… take my bones and form them into a long neck. See how? And the horse showed him how. Now take my skin and use it to cover a soundbox. And take my hair and from it form strings. And atop the neck carve my head. See how? And the horse showed him how.

The next day, Sükhe did as his horse’s spirit had shown him.

“What is it?” asked his father.

“It is my morin khuur, my horsehead fiddle. So my horse and I together can still ride the wind.”

146 words, written for What Pegman Saw: Mongolia

There exist two stories to account for the first creation of the morin khuur… this is my take on one of those.

And for those who want a taste of the horseheaded fiddle … as performed by the Dutch Pagan Rock band Omnia. And it’s worth listening through to the 3 minutes mark, as it then livens up

Posted in Mostly Micro | Tagged , | 50 Comments