My Weekly Writing Challenge

It’s that time of the week again – challenge time. Here are my latest challenges for you:

OPTION ONE: Write a fifteen-word story with the words HUNGRY, TAXI and SUPERMAN in it somewhere.

OPTION TWO: Write a poem or limerick on the theme of FOOD.

OPTION THREE: Your word is AUTUMN. Yes, it’s just around the corner. What does autumn signify to you? The end of summer? Glorious colours on the trees? Christmas?! Your piece can be a true-story, or completely fictional.

Here are last week’s challenges and the wonderful array of writing:

OPTION ONE was to write a fifteen-word story with the words WINNER, FROZEN and ELIXIR in it somewhere.

Paul:

A real winner? Frozen elixir of youth. Instructions: won’t keep long, use within three month!

Bitchy Muse:

Too late. She stood frozen. Elixir? Stolen. That bitch? The winner. Her prize? My Prince.

Urvashi Panda:

Life, the winner, capers on the frozen planet… HE, the elixir-maker, is an absolute alchemist!

Rajiv Chopra:

The winner was given a freezing elixir to drink. Poor thing. Her throat was frozen.

OPTION TWO was to write a poem or limerick on the theme of DECEPTION.

Oh, how I’ve missed Keith Channing‘s limericks. Welcome back!:

It seems that my little deception
Had less than a lukewarm reception
I thought it was good
But that, never could
Perception match up to conception.

I stood on the famed Bridge of Sighs
Looking up at the clearest of skies
I saw from inception
My life was deception
A profusion of badly-told lies.

I should maybe be more circumspect
After all, what more could I expect
I was always deceived
In the things I believed
I had suffered from spiritual neglect.

When I practise my famed introspection
I see life in a different complexion
What I once thought were lies
I now realise
Was simply factual disconnection.

But if truth is just true to each person
What is there for us to immerse in
If eternal veracity
Equates to mendacity
The state of our race can but worsen.

Rajiv Chopra:

The word, ‘deception’, is so full of meaning,
With too much truth, we’d all be screaming.
At the end of time, we seek God’s redemption,
Yet cannot live without some deception.

I look at the sky, and it is blue;
This ‘scientific’ fact is just not true.
The light does bend, on entering or sphere
And fools our brains, this should be clear.

You speak the truth, and so do I,
Yet, I thnk you lie, I scream and cry.
You deceive me, fool me, with your lies,
We’ll fight for honour, till I see you die.

One man’s virtue, another one’s vice.
Fraud and deception spread like lice.
The rich, the powerful, protect their place,
With honeyed words, and a hidden mace.

The Grand Vizier, sits in the sky
Smiling benignly from his throne so high.
The priests spin myths, and make us fools
In their quest for gold, we are their tools.

With Satan’s laugh, your blood shall curdle
To reach his lair, there is no hurdle.
Who do you meet, when you see him there?
Yourself, you fool, your lies laid bare.

At the end of days, Maya lifts the veil,
Of illusion and delusion; our lies she’ll peel.
Before her, naked, no more deception,
You scream and run, there’s no redemption.

The poem’s done, the Mongrel’s sung his song
I pray, your Honour, it wasn’t too long.
If I have lied, or have deceived you.
My friend, I am happy, and God is too.

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