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kissrebu
Young hobby writer
9 Posts • 58 Followers • 43 Following
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Challenge
Prose Challenge of the Week #22: Write about your nightmares. Minimum 10 word - Maximum 250 words. The winner will be chosen based on a number of criteria, this includes: fire, form, and creative edge. Number of reads, bookmarks, and shares will also be taken into consideration. The winner will receive $100. When sharing to Twitter, please use the hashtag #ProseChallenge
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kissrebu

Faded

The arrow of time has pierced my mind,chipping away my memories leaving me confused. I wake alone in my room every morning. I ask the Doctor or the nurses for my mom, only to be reminded every day that she has long since passed.

Challenge
Prose Challenge of the Week #14: Write a poetic review of Prose in 50-250 words. The winner will be chosen based on a number of criteria, this includes: fire, form, and creative edge. Number of reads, bookmarks, and shares will also be taken into consideration. The winner will receive $100, When sharing to Twitter, please use the hashtag #ProseChallenge
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kissrebu

For me

Set fire to my pen.

Ignite my words until

they're seared into 

your memory .When 

emotions smolder and 

paper turns to ash

sift remnants for lyrics, 

pull verse from remains

until inspiration sparks

and my pen is lit again.

Challenge
Prose Challenge of the Week #11 in partnership with The Micropoetry Society. Use the following word to create a piece of micropoetry: “OLD.” The winner will be chosen based on a number of criteria, this includes: fire, form, and creative edge. Number of reads, bookmarks, and shares will also be taken into consideration. The winner will receive $100, the runner-up will receive $25. When sharing to Twitter, please use the hashtag #poetheme and #micropoetry.
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kissrebu

Childlike

I may be old but

am not dead yet.

Inside of me is a kid screaming

"Who locked me up

in this wrinkled

old thing?"

Challenge
Prose Challenge of the Week #10: In honour of Presidents’ Day, write a Haiku about Donald Trump or Bernie Sanders. The winner will be chosen by Prose based on a number of criteria, this includes: fire, form, and creative edge. Number of reads, bookmarks, and shares will also be taken into consideration. Winner will receive $100.
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kissrebu

Trumped-up

He knows nothing, and he

thinks he knows everything

That points clearly to a political

career

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kissrebu

Truth

Knowing is better than wondering, waking is better than sleeping, and even the biggest failure,even the worse beats the hell out of never trying.

Challenge
In 7 words tell that saddest story;
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kissrebu in Fiction

Losse

I've lost my child, and buried him.

Challenge
Prose Challenge of the Week #9: Write a 20 word story about heartbreak. The winner will be chosen by Prose based on a number of criteria, this includes: fire, form, and creative edge. Number of reads, bookmarks, and shares will also be taken into consideration. Winner will receive $100.
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kissrebu

Wasted

I'm dreaming about her.

Than I woke up and realise she's dead.

It's killing me.

But I am already dead.

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kissrebu

Deep

(Lukas Graham 7 years old)

It was a big big world, but we thought we were bigger

Pushing each other to the limits, we were learning quicker

By eleven smoking herb and drinking burning liquor

Never rich so we were out to make that steady figure

Challenge
Prose Challenge of the Week #8: Write a Haiku or Tanka about the supernatural. The winner will be chosen by Prose based on a number of criteria, this includes: fire, form, and creative edge. Number of reads, bookmarks, and shares will also be taken into consideration. Winner will receive $100.
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kissrebu

Freedom. For the Moment

    Her laughter was my light, her smile my warmth, yet her happiness was my sadness. This was her precious moment, dreams of freedom were no longer unattainable abstract images plaguing her thoughts in hours of darkness and light. But soon, she would once again become captured by sorrow, imprisoned in a heat of chaotic frustration.

     I sat on the beach, listening to the waves lapping softly and rhythmically on the shore, as though speaking in a secret code to the earth. I watched her. I listened to her. The more I listened, the more I became aware that I need not look at her, I didn’t need to be aware of her continuous pain to understand how happy she now was. Sugary giggles, a sigh of content. The sea was her playground, the childhood she craved, the fun she was forced to forfeit. Water gave her the freedom that land could not provide.

    I pushed my palms beneath the sand’s surface, until my fingers found the cold wet under-layer that lurked deceptively beneath the soft, warm, white powder. Overhead, the sky melted into an innocent pink as the afternoon slipped away, and the presence of night time crept into the air, creating a shadowy chill that bit at bared flesh. Wisps of cloud hung suspended in the sky, as the sun glared a distant shade of red, and dipped into the ocean. A lulling silence blanketed the beach like a silken veil, providing a canopy of tranquil serenity; it was pierced momentarily by the screeches of a clan of darting seagulls. 

     Grace encompassed her being as she swam, streamlined and elegant, moving with the water’s ripples. The ocean supported her body, lifted her, surrounded her; faithful and loving, encouraging her trust.  But her vibrant content was unable to penetrate my icy dullness. Oblivious onlookers would never be aware of this young girl’s reality unless they followed her trail of possessions up the beach; pink shoes strewn into the sand, a small white floral dress that danced with the soft breeze. Her wheelchair, still and unoccupied, abandoned on the land. Here, in the water, she had no need for it. Here, she was free.

    On land, in her wheelchair, she wasn’t the same. Joy and enthusiasm was replaced by an aching dullness. The happiness that emitted from her being as she moved like a mermaid was a reflection of goodness and purity. She occupied an innocence that was so dangerously vulnerable to the evils of the world.

    Darkness soon descended; a bleak velvet curtain falling around the beach. And I was thankful. Thankful for the darkness, for it would mask the expression that would seep into my face as I saw the look of misery emerge on her young delicate features when she knew it was time to leave the ocean’s comforting embrace. It was a look that would break my heart, and was why her happiness would always be my sadness.