Elephant, Donkey, Ass, Logo

It was with dissatisfaction

That the losing faction

Started packing up their things to go

Their discontent became a rage

That to the whole world they did show

Calmer minds and tempers now

Let us hope are in control


Weekend Writing Prompt #193 – Faction in 39 words


Old stone steps in salt mine

Seemingly past its prime, its steps well worn

Giving the appearance sad – forlorn

But democracy’s not dead – not quite yet

Though its recent path has left some regret

But we who believe in higher things

Trust in a public voice

Above tyrants or kings

So while its been battered

And some questioned its repute

The will of the people

Shall not be mute



MorgueFile bce9c5b46dbf6cbdc9e1b8af376a3be2

Majestic once, you towered high

Reaching arrogantly to the sky

But your vanity proved a lie

For you in the wind tumbled

And you now rot where you lie

There are those that greatness claim

If they don’t see this lesson

They have only themselves to blame


The Victor

Donny had never really taken life to seriously.  He had been the class clown in high school and coasted through college with an art degree which he admitted was based on work that was derivative at best, or just throwing colour randomly on canvas.  He got himself a job at a gallery by connections with a girl he had dated in college and lost it about as fast as he lost her.  So how could he now be standing in front of a cheering crowd as their mayor? He had only registered as a candidate as a drunken dare.


Flash Fiction Challenge: In 99 words (no more, no less), write a story about something a character never dreamed would happen.

One More Coal

MorgueFIle 2c146a0cb9c7b893b2a91fa7de1853cd

“Things are panning out just as I planned,” Dr. Notorious said.  “Racial unrest has been heightened, and that wonderful virus as divided people over social distancing, and mask-wearing.  And now a few well-placed fake voting boxes, and a few cut cables in the system, and all will be ready to bring about my revolution of chaos.   It will take just one more coal and all will be ready for me to arrive and take control.”

His henchman, Boris nodded and leaned over to toss a coal into the fire. 

“It was a metaphor, you fool, a metaphor!”





Public Speaking, Speaker, Man, Cartoon, Comic

I have served my society

Risked life and prepared for war

Been ready to put all on the line

While you mock the oath I swore

I feel quite uncomfortable

With the thing you ask of me

The breaking of the law

In the name of “liberty”

You claim to be a patriot

But I see your colours true

The only colour that you serve

Is the one that best serves you


London Fog

Google Hub Photo Frame

“I thought the fogs were a thing of the past,” Harry said.

“Well, technically they are.  The legislation from the 50s onwards has limited the use of coal, and the smog and fog,  north of the Thames is much less than it used to be,” the tour guide said as they approached Westminster.

“Then what is all this?” Melissa piped in.

“Oh, the Tories are unveiling a new policy today,” the guide said.  “That always creates fog and confusion.”




Fandango’s Flash Fiction Challenge #82



Half Truths and Prevarication

imageedit_0_8058394484 (1)

Dachau Gate^


The way to control your people

Is to lie and then lie again

Make the lies so huge and colossal

That there’s no doubt that they could be pretend*


And then when you think you’ve got them

Half truths and prevarications extend

Be it a Dachau or Oswiecim

On people’s hopes and fears depend**


If you want to convince your people

Of your need to go to war

Tell them that mass destruction awaits them

In 45 minutes  – not a moment more


Remind the public often

They live in a democracy

Where everyone’s free and equal –

Just maybe – not as much as thee




*The Big Lie


^”Work Makes You Free” A Doublespeak



Cartoon, Interview, News, Program, Show


You ask me of my assentations

I reply, “Of what do you speak?”

“Of oaths and promises,” you do say,

“Which you never intend to keep.”


“How could you of me, such a thing say?

My word is as good as gold.

Each vow and pledge, that I make,

Like my Tweets – no falsehood hold.”


And so journalist and man-political split

The facts we may never know

For each their own “truths” firmly clutch

And shall never let them go




FOWC with Fandango — Split