Frustration Saturation

Frustration Saturation

the daily grind on steroids,

Neverending.

What’s going to overload me–

a certain look, the wrong answer,

tripping on a crack?

Can’t super-saturate;

no safety valve available.

Who will suffer from the explosion–

co-worker, kid, lover–

or is it going to be

an implosion causing melting

with nothing left but a

sniveling puddle.

***

I’m late.  I’m late for a very important Friday Flash 55.  Too much reality to this one.  I hope G-man still comes to visit. 

 

Halloween Cat

Snickers awoke from his nap and wondered what happened.  From dozing in the chair in a dignified manner to dressed in glitter and bows~what a nightmare.

Snickers

Or maybe in a strange twist of fate, he had switched places and become the master rather than the familiar.  Or maybe it was just the darn kid again.

 ***

I’m joining G-Man for his micro fiction Friday Flash 55.

The Blood Moon

Bathed in light from

the beautiful blood moon,

a rabbit quivers in fear.

Fog shrouds the fields.

 A lone corn stalk remains

peering above the close blanket,

a sentinel keeping watch.

Distant frantic yipping

of coyotes in pursuit of prey

reaches nervous ears.

The moon settling in the west,

darkness chased away by the rising sun,

and night stalkers hide

until the lady moon reappears.

***

Linking to d’Verse Poets open mic night.

Cinnamon’s Wings

Cinnamon knew as soon as she strapped her wings on,
She would be able to float and fly and flutter
just like butterflies do.
She did leap and bounce, but no flying.
“I need to start higher up!”
To the top of the barn to launch her flight.
Gravity still rules; now Cinnamon is toast.

Cinnamon

It’s a Friday Flash 55!  If you’ve written your own story in exactly 55 words, be sure to visit G-Man and tell him.

When Elephants Fly

Smokestacks belching putrid nuclear smoke.

City lights escape to the once dark endless sky

Revealing the pollution and junk floating in space.

Water ripples with each new tire or beer can tossed in.

The sun is blocked with the black air from car exhaust.

Politicians will clean it up when elephants fly,

so I guess it’s up to you and me.

 

courtesy of Magpie Tales

Linking to Magpie Tales #85