Haibun for the good, the bad and the undecided

For the dverse prompt. I know the theme is black history, but I have a visceral dislike for putting people in boxes. People is people; all that changes is whose foot the boot is on.


The world is made up of two kinds of people: those who are pushed to one side, and those who do the pushing. You don’t have to be black to be pushed, just poor or a woman or have a handicap or a police record. You just have to belong to the wrong religion or have no religion at all, be out of work, out of luck. Do what we say or we destroy your economy. You just have to be the tourist with a full wallet, buying paradise, destroying the environment and a way of life. You just have to be an adult in a brothel full of children, a soldier with a gun in a village full of women.

If you haven’t been there, you can count yourself privileged and perhaps ask yourself, who have I pushed lately, who did I not see when the Brown Shirts marched down my street and kicked in the doors?

waves roll up the strand

where the coffin ships left

a turnstone stalks

Flower explosion

For the Daily Inkling’s flower power theme.


The force that drives the flower

is the power of the sun,

the thrusting molten rock in fusion

of deep earth fires.

Two furnaces strive,

two anvils, forging titans,

filling the universe with burgeoning stars

and billions of eyes to watch their ascension.

The culmination of this struggle,

burning gases, rocks

and the scintillation of stars—

a shaggy-maned dandelion.


Microfiction: What price power?

A 99 word story for Charli Mills’ flash fiction challenge.

He watched through the bullet proof, explosion proof glass canopy of his vehicle, the adoring crowds, weeping, waving, holding up their children to see him. How many security guards lined the route? How many marksmen were posted on the roofs? How many helicopters patrolled the city to detect any suspicious movement? It was necessary. His life was too important to be put at risk. It would be a shame about the children though, if terrorists struck

Too bad he couldn’t trust God to keep him safe, the Pope thought.

He raised a hand and slowly waved at a baby.