Tags

, , , ,

dverselogotoday is my birthday.

i tell you this up front, because i will ask you for a present here in a few moments.

no, really. i will.

even before i was a poet, i was a story teller. the art of telling a story has always inspired me. i love movies and books that find new ways to tell a story. i love poems that find new ways to tell a story.

today we are telling stories.

but

this exercise is about cutting and keeping. when you tell a story you have to know what to put in and what to take out of the story to make it effective.

over the last 4 years, one of the people that has helped me to condense a story and learn how to be creative in telling it quickly is Galen, or as several of you know him, g-man. he runs a weekly group on fridays that writes flash fiction or friday 55s. writers link up in the comments and read each other. (sound familiar?)

g has been there for me in a few tight spots over the years with a few wise (choice) words. so the gift i would like from you today—is to write a 55. it can be a poem. it can be prose, but…

it must be exactly 55 words.

it must tell a story.

then i want you to link up here—and link up at g-man’s. hey twice the fun today eh? his place is open now…just leave a comment letting him know you played.

he has no clue we are doing this. so if we bum rush his comments in a bit it will be a big surprise for him. for my birthday we are throwing a reverse surprise party. how’s that. ha. think of it as a flash mob. ha.

ok, so here are a few examples to get you started:

lingerie & edible things by Brian Miller

rocky road ice cream melts
in thick brown puddles, soaking
deep in the carpet
by the chaise lounge
where she lies in
sexy lingerie, dozing,
dreaming of prince charming,
as he sends one more email
from a desk miles away
picking at cold noodles
in a styrofoam container,
oblivious to flowers wilting
from loves inattention.

Evening Haze by Margaret Bednar

A muted silver haze
drapes its cloak
upon the winter pond,
envelopes me with a pair
of luminous swans
in a world of quietude.

Lethargic ripples
tickle the murky shore
where cattails
and winter grass
passively sway
and a blue heron’s
shadow sweeps
the water’s breadth.

I break the silence
whisper “Amen”
and walk home.

ok, there you go, now it is time to have at it. if you are new here, let me explain how this works:

  • write a story in 55 words
  • click on Mr. Linky below and enter your name and direct url to your poem/story
  • go to g-man’s, after 8 pm EST and leave him a comment
  • visit others here and there, seriously have some fun with it. they are 55 words…it take like 20 seconds to read.
  • enjoy.

see you out on the trail.   ~Brian