Tag Archives: #writing

Ye Hairy Gentlemen

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Written for Chel Owens’ Terrible Poetry Contest, Class of 2020 Reunion. The task, a terrible parody of a Christmas song…

On the twelfth day of Christmas
She’ll drive a holly stake through your heart…

Cut, cut, I think we’d be safer taking this in a different direction?

doG blessed ye hairy gentlemen
You’ll be warm upon this day
Remember that the rest of us
Will be frozen until May
With razor blades we’ll come for you
And shave it all away
O shavings of back hair and Bengay

We’ll stuff the clipping into bags
And ship them on their way
To far-off Nike sweatshops
In Hong Kong and Bombay
Where they’ll stitch them all together
With labels that say “Made in U.S.A.”
O tidings from Tài Sǔn and Ganmay

And when those man-hair sweaters
Arrive upon our shores
We’ll click on over to Amazon
And buy them by the scores
We’ll wrap them up for Christmas gifts
And cold, we’ll be no more
O tidings of comfort and joy
Comfort and joy
O tidings of comfort and joy

Damn these things are scratchy,
Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night…

Written for Chel Owens’ Terrible Poetry Contest, Class of ’20 Reunion
Copyright 2021 Greg Glazebrook, All Rights Reserved.


Terrible Poetry

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Keeping in mind I’m fairly new at this blogging and writing thing, I’m still exploring a lot of old posts and such. This week I shared a poem with Saddle Up Saloon: Anyone Can Poem with Chel Owens at the Carrot Ranch Literary Community. Well didn’t that take me down the proverbial rabbit hole eventually popping up at Week 3 of Chel Owens now defunct Terrible Poetry Contest from November 2018. She has posted some excellent content too. I highly recommend checking out her blog. Anyway, writing terrible poetry sounded way better than whatever I was getting paid to do at the office –– To my boss: I’m on lunch break, I swear! –– so I just had to give it a go. The instructions: Write a terrible haiku for the topic “Falling Snow”. So three years late, give or take, here it goes…

Terrible Haiku #1

Snowflakes falling white
Landing where I dare to walk
Pish I’ve fallen too

Terrible Haiku #2

God scratches its skin
Psoriasis falls like snow
To my waiting tongue

Photo credit: Darrell Cassell via Unsplash.
Copyright 2021 Greg Glazebrook, All Rights Reserved.

New Hope

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Adam awoke from cryostasis; Eva and their children had not survived the journey.

Eight centuries and sixty-seven years had passed since New Hope catapulted into the cold vacuum of space, towards a new home.

Humanity lost, Adam walked to the edge of Canis Major, the Great Dog Sea, and undeniably knew what it meant to be alone.

Written for Week 306 of Sonya’s Three Line Tales challenge. Photo credit: Joshua Earle via Unsplash.
Copyright 2021 Greg Glazebrook, All Rights Reserved.

A Salty Situation

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Saturday morning Nathaniel asked me to make up a story for him. He is fascinated with the idea of imagination so I suggested that we write one together. He loved the idea and asked if we could write one about a train. Of course, as a five year old he had to be in the story. Here’s what we came up with. Hope you enjoy it.

Simon, a freight engine who proudly wore the #23 on his side was racing to Waterloo station to pick up his friend, Nathaniel. They were headed to the oceanside for the day. Nathaniel loved the beach. It would be Simon’s first time. He had never ridden the seaside route before.

Simon was not sure he’d like the sea air. The other engines teased him before leaving. They said the ocean would rust his wheels. He would end up wrecked like the steel ships sunken in the harbour. Continue reading →

Coming Home

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Cool November air fills
My lungs as I walk
The drive to your door
Fallen leaves fresh
Beneath my feet
Bid to betray my approach

Forgotten memories
Long faded from mind,
Tempered by the passage of time

Worn and weathered
Two estranged souls
Still harbouring resentment
Refusing to surrender
Like the last leaves of autumn
Clinging to barren branches

Beyond our battered walls
We meet face to face
To assess the coming winter

The wilderness
Heavy with fallen snow
Revealing its sturdy foundation

Time flows infinite but
Our path intersects
For a brief moment

What future still remains
Holding all possible conclusions
The choices we make today
Set the road we follow tomorrow
Moving forward is impossible
If we get mired in yesterday

She looks up at the
Crunch of dried leaves
Beneath my feet
An awkward moment
Then a smile and wave
And I’m home

Photo credit: Seth Doyle via Unsplash.
Copyright 2021 Greg Glazebrook, All Rights Reserved.

Lola

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Life was good. Exactly where she expected to be. Still, it could be monotonous. She’d head to the bright lights to let loose. A new canvas, whatever she wanted to be.

She watched him walk in from her vantage at the bar. Familiar, but not tonight.

“Lola.” she introduced herself.

“Bill.” he replied timidly.

“First time?” She queried. Tonight she’d eat him alive.

She’d step back into life before he woke and smile when he got home with breakfast.

Written for Week #238 of Sammi Cox’s Weekend Writing Prompt. (Word: Familiar, Count: 79)
Photo credit: cottonbro via Pexels.
Copyright 2021 Greg Glazebrook, All Rights Reserved.

Alternate Reality 5

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5: Reckoning

He is sitting at the table with his wife next to him. Sadie walks up from behind and leaning in whispers, “I remember what you did to me.”

His glass slips from his hand as she continues on a line. Looking back to see jets of red shoot across the white table. Her message delivered, like an arrow straight through the heart.

Standing at the end of the bar she watches as he slowly comes undone. Ready for the fight to come Sadie catches a glimpse in the mirror. She sees only herself looking back.

Part 4: Collision Course

Part 5 of 5
Part 1 originally written for Week #235 of Sammi Cox’s Weekend Writing Prompt. (Word: Mirror, Count: 95)
Background Photo: Pawel Czerwinski via Unsplash.
Copyright 2021 Greg Glazebrook, All Rights Reserved.

Alternate Reality 4

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4. Collision Course

She had planned for weeks, since the invitation arrived at the door. Her journey set on its final trajectory. Coming this far seemed impossible. Self-conscious, Sadie enters…

The space was surreal, marble columns, pastel accents throughout, the dull roar of countless conversations filling the air. Scanning she sees him. A shiver shoots through her.

It wasn’t too late; she could still turn back. “No!”, Sadie screamed beneath her breath, “How could I look in the mirror again.”

With purpose, she weaved through the crowded room, her realities together approaching from all sides. Trembling she approaches…

Part 3: Convergence

Part 5: Reckoning

Part 4 of 5
Part 1 originally written for Week #235 of Sammi Cox’s Weekend Writing Prompt. (Word: Mirror, Count: 95)
Background Photo: Pawel Czerwinski via Unsplash.
Copyright 2021 Greg Glazebrook, All Rights Reserved.

Mudlark Challenge

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I had two trains of thought for this week’s challenge and was unable to decide which I liked best so I published both. Can’t wait to read everyone else’s posts for such an interesting word.

Surprise

“That SOB,” Elena ranting, flung her wedding rings into the river, “and with my BFF!”

Upon returning home her flat erupted, “Happy Birthday!”

“Surprise,” he said, “Dana and I planned your party for a month!”

Elena would spend the next four days mudlarking in the very spot he’d proposed seven years earlier.

Bridge Jumper

The heavens rained down all morning, the track soft and muddy. He couldn’t believe his luck.

Raindance was listed at 100-1. A longshot but she was a mudlark!

Never good at the ponies he’d drop every last penny to win.

Later, walking home he wouldn’t make it across the Easton Street Bridge…

Written for Week #237 of Sammi Cox’s Weekend Writing Prompt. (Word: Mudlark, Count: 52)
Photo Credit: 1: Hootiewam Boots via Pinterest / 2. Dalton Touchberry via Unsplash
Copyright 2021 Greg Glazebrook, All Rights Reserved.

Autobiographical

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He wrote some (bad) poetry in his twenties.

Now in his fifties and seeking creative expression,

He would pick up the pen and try again…

Written for Week 304 of Sonya’s Three Line Tales challenge. Photo credit: Toa Heftiba via Unsplash.
Copyright 2021 Greg Glazebrook, All Rights Reserved.