Tag Archives: poet

a plea for peace for our time

continental drift creates a
consciousness shift whereby
nations are formed along
imaginary borders
the human species disperses
like an inverse implosion
all four corners scattered
with our common dna
but then out come the sums
of long embittered division
sourced from holy books
and localized religion
indecent wars of terror disturb
the sleep of the innocent
even though deep in the
hearts of the surviving dissidents
there still exists a belief
in the sacred contract
we have inherited as the
evolutionary heirs of
this most peaceful of planets.

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gin and limelight

“love it, leave it and
love it some more…”
implores the torch-song
singer singing her song
of old world heartache
this siren of a faded bakelite age
her grip on the microphone
like she’s got a fistful of
her dirty lover’s spine
the band on their break
leave her to the spotlight
she so adores.


No Two Snowflakes are Ever the Same

Shakespeare never did this
Growled Charles Bukowski
And, likewise, I’m sure
“Old Hank”, the Infamous
Factotum King of the
Black Sparrow Press
Never did this, either
Mercifully
Blogging and Bukowski
Would have made for
Sordid bedfellows
Too much detail
About defiled mattresses
And whiskey-soaked sheets
A surplus of dirty realism
What’s more, his only advice
To hungry neophytes and
Would-be writer types
“Don’t try!”

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Flash Fiction — “A-ah, It’ll Save Every One of Us!”

Flash Gordon (film)

Flash Gordon (film) (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I hate to be the one to break the news to you, people, but the novel is dead!

No? What’s that you say? You beg to differ?

Well, then, in return, I say to you, “So go and buy a copy of my reasonably priced eBook, Missing Zero! Go on, prove to me people still want to buy novels…”

Uh-huh. Now, here’s where you’re gonna start to make up lame excuses about your having a ton of other things to read currently and how you’re suffering another one of your infamous cluster-fuck headaches and how your pet hamster’s got her period, right?

Yeah, right! Just admit it. You haven’t read anything longer than this blog since those navy seals supposedly shot Bin Laden dead and then mysteriously dumped him overboard.

Not that I’m suggesting the two things are in any way connected; trust me, I’m just simply pointing out to you the extreme length of your novel-reading abstinence in a (slightly) overly-sensationalized way.

Sorted. Ok, so we’re agreed the novel is at the very least flat-lining as we speak (metaphorically speaking, that is).

So what the hell are we writerly-types going to do about it? Become poets? No, not bloody likely, let me tell you! I flatly refuse to smoke hand-rolled cigarettes, for one thing. And for another, I don’t own a single hand-knitted woollen vest. Sorry!

Anyway, poets are to Literature what wanky-poseur jazz musicians are to good music.

Which again leads us back to the question, “Quo vadis (trans. whither goest thou), Sweet Wordsmith?”

Well, if I might be so bold, I think I might just have the answer: Flash fiction – (cue singing, “A-ah, Saviour of the Universe!”).

Let me apologise. As you’ve probably, no doubt, already noticed, I can’t hear the word “flash” and then not be compelled to imitate Freddie Mercury belting out the theme song from Queen’s soundtrack to the 1980 film version of Flash Gordon. Don’t worry, it probably isn’t all that contagious.

But I digress. On a more serious note, let me say that I didn’t really have any experience with micro-fiction/flash fiction (what have you) — “A-ah, It’s a Miracle!” – until about a week ago.

In one of my previous blog posts, I recently detailed some of the experiences I have had since joining Helium, a professional blog-writing community. But what I didn’t mention at that stage is that I also had a go, for the first time, at writing some 400-word flash fiction pieces, as part of a creative-writing competition Helium runs over there each fortnight.

In short, from my brief foray into the condensed format flash fiction offers, I would say it may well end up driving the final nail into the coffin of the whole moribund novel-writing caper. Just sayin’?!

Some guy called David Gaffney wrote a good introductory article for the Guardian back in May, 2012 about this new-ish phenomenon, which should whet your appetite enough, if you haven’t given flash fiction a go already. See the link below:

Stories in your pocket: how to write flash fiction

And should you wish to check out my own first attempt at a short-short story (written under the pen name of Hadiran Brand), please follow the link here!

Pathetic Earthlings…who can save you now?