Tag: Medium


When you need to pass and interview: just moo.

The Icognito Writer: Moo by Flash 365

Flash 365

Beijing is a beehive in a dirt storm.

I follow my recruiter into the officetel. She calls herself Jennifer. I don’t know her real name. She wears classes. Her English is poor.

“You will interview.”


“This is good company.”


In the elevator, she stares at her phone. She turns it to me.

“Who is this?”

I look at the picture. It is her, in a hat.

“You?” I say.

She makes a pouty face. She puts her phone away. She doesn’t speak to me until we arrive at the door.


I wait. She goes in. I look out the window at a wall of gray smog and question my life choices. The door opens. I am led in. Jennifer leaves.

A Chinese man sits smoking a cigarette. A Nepalese man smiles at me. He holds out his hand.

“You are American?”

I nod.

“Have you been a…

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Do You Remember

Another song that I wrote and turned into a poem…

Do you remember?

Who we used to be,

What you were to me,

Where we used to dream?

Do you remember?

The adventures that we had,

The good times and the bad,

The happy times and the sad?

But I guess you don’t.

Those dreams we shared were nothing but fleeting,

But here I am still sleeping; still dreaming,

While you are with that person you’re seeing.

I guess you don’t remember.

Do you remember?

The times we had; those memories,

The dreamy sky; that deep blue sea,

Or was it all but a fantasy?

Do you remember?

That you were my saving light,

In the storm that was my life,

Shining through the night?

But I guess you won’t.

Maybe I was the only one who was happy,

Maybe I couldn’t see that you were drifting

Drifting away from me.

I guess you won’t remember.

The Icognito Writer

The M in the Mirror

A beautiful piece of writing; interesting, nonsensical and extremely funny

Flash 365

My boots are old now. They are still tight. They are good boots.

I wince, but get my other foot in. I hear voices from M’s room. There are no strange boots in the hall so, I walk over and peak in.

“Drink a glass of water before the bottle of wine and it will cancel out any negative side effects.”

It is M’s voice, but not his tone. I take a step deeper into the room.

“What about cigarettes?”  M’s voice again. But, this time it sounds like M.

I check around the corner. M is standing in front of the mirror. The M in the mirror begins talking.

“Exhale out your nose and it won’t ever reach your lungs.”

I clear my throat. M turns around.

“What are you doing?” I ask.

“Consulting my doctor.” He moves to the left and motions to the mirror. The M in…

View original post 299 more words


What happens when I’m alone?

What happens when there is no one around me?

What happens when I stand on the brink of darkness?

What happens when I’m about to fall in?


What happens when I slip and fall?

What happens when I can’t see a thing?

Can’t anybody hear me at all?

Am I the only one breathing?


What happens when I start to cry?

What happens when I can’t see the sky?

What happens when I fear that I’ll die?

What happens when tears come out of my eye?


Am I the only one left?

As the entire world been destroyed and spent?

Am I the only one alive?

As everyone else died?


But out there I hear a cry

More like a silent try

To make amends before he dies

Alone in the darkness with no eyes


But he’s not alone, I’m here to

His cry puts an end to my solitude

I thought I was alone but I was wrong

Now that we are two, we are twice as strong


But again I hear a plea

A sound so faint, like a passing flea

But as loud as an elephant’s trunk

We just got more luck


And then she joins us and shares her tale

About being eaten by a massive whale

About being along, blinded, afraid

About how she numbered her days


And then we tell her our tales are more or less the same

And we then ask for each others names

We are no longer alone, no longer afraid

The strongest team, every made


And then, we see the light

What a terrifyingly beautiful sight

We follow it out of the darkness

And out of the blank emptiness


I arrive on solid ground

And I look around

I see not my friends but I know

We have ended each other’s solitude

We have ended each other’s solitude

#a-poem-a-day, #poems, #poetry, #medium

The Muse – Who Am I

​I went and stood before the panel; the lights were extremely bright

They started by trying to reassure me; everything was going to be alright

They were going to ask me a couple of questions; thats all

But a couple of questions could feel like a firing squad when you got your back against the wall

Who are you, they asked

As if defining yourself was any simple task

As if there were words to perfectly describe who I am

As if I was a very simple man

Well to start off, I don’t know who I am

But from what I’ve been told I can confirm that I am a man

Ive been through a lot of trials and tribulations in my time

Ive seen stars fade and I’ve seen time shine

I really didn’t like the beach

With all that sand and rampaging noise; peace seems out of reach

Im was more of an indoor person myself

My favourite position: beside a nice comfy fire, next to the bookshelf

I’ve been hurt before and I’ve been abused

Sorrow isn’t some unknown News

But like all good times must come with the bad

I’ve also been happy after I’ve been sad

I loved music: pop,urban and electro

Though I must confess I have a soft spot for disco

I danced when no one is looking and I sung in the shower

I sometimes pretended that I have superpowers

I had friends I know and those I don’t

Those who would take a bullet and those who won’t

I had jokes that can make you laugh and jokes that can’t

Like how the leaning Tower of Pisa is just a big slant

You asked me to describe myself in just words

Well I could’t and this is just akward

For a human being is just like a piece of art

I’m more than what you see, I’m the sum of my parts

And when all is said and done

These part are what make the one

So I ask you a question myself if I may

Do you ever think about what you say?

#a-poem-a-day, #medium, #poem, #poetry, #random-poetry, #the-muse

We Don’t Have Any Cookies

Another old piece of mine

Hi, my name’s John and I live on a planet called Harcourt (which means fortified dwelling) with my annoying little sister Janet and my pet kwodo (basically a dog with wings). You see, its the year 2070 and Earth has basically been ruined by pollution, global warming and the like. Because of this, the IPUOH (Inter Planetary Union Of Humans) has been looking for a way to send us humans to different inhabitable planets. The first planet discovered in 2040 and by 2067, there were 500+ discovered inhabitable planets in the universe. Sadly, I was sent to the same one as my annoying sister.

My sister is a animal specialist, she has done some technological training and has discovered that animals have a certain hearing frequency that allows access to the brain. She found that if she could tune a CFT (Cellular Frequency Tuner – kind of like an advanced radio and phone), she could basically talk to animals. Of course, being my annoying little sister, she didn’t use this to get a Nobel or WitchCock prize (WitchCock invented hyper space travel), she used it to get my kwodo to annoy me.

Of course on planet Harcourt, we are not the only ones there, there is a small town of joones, which are basically ogres. They aren’t ugly but are really huge. Anyways, they help us with the hard things, like lifting our advanced cranes and house sets and other such things. There is drinking water but you have to de-electrify it unless you want it to mess with your nervous system.

The seasons are quite warm, there are 8 seasons, partially because the planet is sphere inside a sphere of gases. So for 8 months at the start of the year we have the first two seasons which are basically early and late spring. Then we have 16 months of semi-darkness which are basically the fall and winter seasons because the gases swirl up and cover up the entire planet. Then we have another two seasons of summer (we have 32 months in total). Our year is exactly 292 days but our days are 25% longer than Earth days so it took some getting used too. Our winter is extremely cold as it gets to nearly 100K. Luckily for us, kwodos exhale a gas that keeps heat at around 40 degrees celsius.

The terrain of Harcourt is really smooth. Most of the surface is covered by land although the majority of weight comes from water. This is because the surface here is not made of dirt but is made of a similar material that sticks together and can float while holding a lot of weight. We call this Lynex and it is very useful. Our planet is 65% water and 35% land. Occasionally, some patches of Lynex are taken up into the atmosphere during the fall and winter seasons because of their lightness. Then they come back scorching hot in the summer seasons. We call this phenomena heat lift because the hot Lynex can then be used air-conditioning as it blows the really hot air up and the cold air in.

Every 8 months we have to file a report for the IPUOH to see if we are okay and everything is alright. So far we have gotten no response and we have been living here for 7 years. This is a report we sent in a capsule to Earth. If you are still alive, call the IPUOH phone line. If you are some evil alien life form please don’t come; we don’t have cookies.

In response to Interplanet Janet by The Daily Post


I’m Not Crazy, Just A Little Insane

Because of my timezone I often forget that the Daily Post Prompt comes in the evening so I think I have already done it. Soz about that.

Julius paced up and down the room, his feet clacking as he did so; he had a habit for wearing tap dancing shoes.

“You do understand that what you are proposing is downright outrageous.”

Evans looked up, his eyes making the same dull expression it had been making all morning; since he first proposed that idea.

“You are over exaggerating.”

“I am not!” Julius exclaimed. He had been trying to reason with Evans for the better part of the day. “Don’t you see that this is a bit too much?”

Evans sighed, they had been going through this routine for a while now and it was starting to take its toll. “For the umpteenth time, it is a quite simple feat.”

“Not for most people,” Dale said as he stood up from the couch; he had left a rather large imprint behind of his behind. “Not for most people.”

“What do you mean not for most people?” Evans intrigued, he was trying to be reasonable here but it seemed like he could actually be wrong.

“You’re asking us to take away part of lives; one that we live with everyday. Not everyone can be as bland as you are,” Dale said bluntly. He didn’t mean to be rude but he wasn’t exactly known for his politeness.

Julius stopped pacing and looked Evans directly in the eyes. “You got to be honest with me here, E. This is crazy.”

“I don’t think so. Insane maybe but definitely not crazy” Evans said as he too stood up; he was on his way to the kitchen. Its hard to talk on an empty stomach.

“What’s the difference?” Julius asked, he was starting to think Evans was going mad.

“mmmmmmmmmm” Evans mumbled through the fridge.


“What I said was crazy people don’t know they are crazy. I know I’m crazy therefore I’m not crazy; I’m insane” Evans said; his head poking up from the fridge. His lips were covered with orange juice.

“Isn’t that from Pirates Of The Caribbean?” asked Dale. He had gone back to sitting down; standing up was too much of a burden considering his massive frame.

“I don’t know” replied Evans, gulping down the rest of the bottle.

“I know that we do extreme stunts but I’m only 21, I still want to live.” Julius exclaimed; it was his last attempt to reason with Evans.

“Well I for one think we should try it, even for a little bit. What’s life without its challenges I say,” Dale countered as he turned of the tv.

“Just relax Jul, it’s only for an hour. Plus we can always flip the switch and everything will be back to normal.”

“…” Julius hesitated; it looked like he would not be getting out of this one. He could always walk away but he would never turn his back on his friends; he liked to keep them in front of him so he could dodge if they tried to stab him. “Alright, but only for an hour, not a second more.”

“Deal!” Dale and Evans said together, their voices in some sort of weird unison.

“I’ll get the cameras” said Evans as he ran off to the closet.

“I’ll get the lights” Dale answered, the floor creaking with each step he took.

“I’ll get drunk” Julius said. He was stupid enough to agree but he wasn’t a total fool. There was no way he was going to get through this sober.

“Welcome back guys. My name’s Julius and these are Dale and Evans. Today we’re going to be doing something totally extreme; we’re going to go without electricity for an entire hour. That means no phones, no tv and most importantly, NO WIFI. Do not try this at home.”

 In response to Maddening by The Daily Post.


A String, A Bait and A Little Boy

José Martinez walked down the winding dirt path; a stick rod in his muffin sized hands. His father Michéal walked down behind him holding the rest of the fishing equipment. José was angry; he wanted to stay at home and watch the morning cartoons but his father won’t let him. Mr.Martinez had been rather strict ever since little J got in that fist fight at school. It was one of the latest occurrences in the last few months.

It wasn’t that little J wasn’t smart; he was among the top in his class. He just had a lot of misplaced anger, after all, it’s hard to know what to do when at ten years old your mother left with most of your belongings. Michéal knew that what J needed right now wasn’t another lecture but a way to channel all that anger; all that frustration. So Mr.Martinez had settled on fishing; the weather was supposed to be clear.

It didn’t take them long before they had reached the fishing spot; plenty of other fishermen were there already. Little J and his father took a spot in front of the old rock, by the reeds. They both cast out their hooks and sat down waiting; waiting for the fish to bite.

Five minutes later and Jose was already restless; he shifted and squirmed where he sat. He was about to turn once more when he noticed that some of the fishermen had started packing up even without catching any fish.

A little while later it started drizzling and more fishermen packed up; apparently there was a small storm heading towards the lake and these fishermen wanted to be at home next to the warm fire. José nudged his father to go, he had finally found an excuse to go home but Michéal stood firm; eyes fixed on the lake and his bait.

It wasn’t long still it started pouring; and it was raining buckets. José had left his father at the riverbank, opting instead to stay in the car. He could hear the raindrops like bullets off the car’s roof. He wasn’t afraid but with the rest of the fishermen gone, José felt very alone as he waited for his father to come back.

The storm eventually passed after 30 minutes of torrential downpour and José mustered up the courage to come out of the car and walk back down to the riverbank. When he got there he was astounded; three of the biggest fish he had ever laid eyes on were in his father’s bucket. The old man was packing up his fishing rod; José’s had fallen into the river during the storm.

Throughout the drive back home Michéal only said one thing, “No matter how much rain falls, no matter how cloudy it gets, remember one thing. Fishes will only take bait in calm water. So sit down, and wait. Wait for the calm water.”

It has been twelve years since then. José, now twenty two, had managed to graduate from the university of his choice; Cambridge. Sure, there had been tough times; stormy times. But, like his father did all those years ago, he just held out for the calm water.

José threw out his hook and watched as the skies turned grey; they said it was going to be a bit stormy. The perfect weather for fishing.

In response to Fishing by The Daily Post.


Prescribed Meds

I swallowed them both; the pills I mean. They were as sour as ever; my lips puckered. It would be a while before my lips returned to normal. I spent that time getting ready for the day ahead. I got in the shower; I didn’t feel the water; a side-effect of the pills. 15 minutes later I got out; the water felt cold which meant the tablet had started kicking in so I was ready to eat breakfast.

I made the mistake of eating before I took my pills once, it was a horrible idea. The food melted in my mouth, literally. Apparently, S.U.P cause my spit to become extremely acidic, meaning I can’t enjoy late night snacks.

I ran to work, remembering to take my pills as I did so. It wasn’t that far only 18k, and I got there in half an hour. I sweated a lot; apparently, sweat helps calm down by the immune system. I got here in time for morning bagels; I had two.

I spent the rest of the morning sorting files. I may look like a gym junkie, but I haven’t been to a gym in my entire life; I was more of the library kind of guy. It doesn’t take long before I was done with most of the workload; I was good at that kind to go stuff.

At 12 o’clock I went to the breakroom to take my pills so that I could have an early lunch. I got out to bottle only to find that that it was empty; I had brought the wrong bottle.

I started panicking; I had never missed taking a pill since I was ten years old. It was a horrible experience; I hallucinated, I heard weird sounds, my head felt like it would explode. I have been avoiding repeating the same mistake ever since. The Sign of Underwhelming Physique (S.U.P) was apparently an immune system issue that I had. It was extremely rare and could not be cured, but there was a way to manage it; I would only manage if I took the pills for the rest of my life. And I was all out of pills.

The only way I could survive was if I managed to get home in the next 30 minutes. I packed my stuff and went to my boss, Bob (yes, that’s his real name). I asked him if I could go home early; I was feeling sick. Bob looked at me with grave concern; in the ten years that I had been working with the company, I had never taken a sick day. He said I could take as long as I needed and I should call him when I started feeling better. I thanked him as I left; I had 15 minutes left.

I hadn’t made it more than five kilometres when I collapsed on the floor. The S.U.P had started kicking in a while ago, but I had been ignoring it. This time it was a lot more painful than when I was ten years old. My eyes went grey as the hallucinations began again. I saw bones loitering the streets; skeletons where there used to be people. The buildings were gone, replaced with water and more skeleton frames floating through the air.

The noises were back as well; they pounded against my ears. Random barking and chirps, the voices of indistinct words, of random conversations; they all assaulted my ears.

I tried to stand up, but I staggered; my body felt extremely light. It didn’t feel too bad, to be honest except that my eyes were suddenly sensitive to the sunlight. I decided to see if I could walk; I wanted to get moving as soon as possible. I managed to take a couple of steps before stumbling and falling off the sidewalk. I felt the wind rush past my hair as the ground hurried to meet me.

Except I wasn’t falling, I was flying; as I opened my eyes, I saw the ground shrink back in the distance. The shock of this discovery (and probably the lack of oxygen) overwhelmed the pain flooding through my other senses.

It was only after a few minutes of staying up in the air with nothing but the winds, clouds and occasional bird flock to keep me company did I realised that I wasn’t hallucinating. The sounds I was hearing were just conversations miles away from where I was. The bones were just the x-rays of the people on the street. I tried focusing in and out; I could control it but just barely.

And of course, I put all the dots together. The pills weren’t there to help me live better; they were there to suppress my full potential.

And I would no longer be stopped.

In response to You find out that the pills you’ve been taking… from Writing Prompts.


The Last Play

It was cold on the city streets. Meredith hugged her coat tenderly, shivering as she did so; her coat was nothing but mere rags at this point. She might have to get a new one soon if she didn’t die tonight; the cold winds were threatening to blow her skinny frame away.

Of course, she had climbed out of bed even though the nurse told her not to. After all, it was nearing Christmas, and one could not expect a child to lay in bed all day, even if that child was terminally ill. Adults and their fancy words; what did they mean by terminally, probably just one of the make believe words they used to scare children. Meredith knew she was sick but she also knew she would get better. After all she was the toughest kid she knew.

Her dad had told her that one day she would sleep and not wake up for a long time, just like Aunt Rosie. Meredith didn’t know Aunt Rosie very well, but from what she has been told, it seemed like Aunt Rosie was having a very long nap. She must have stayed up too late watching tv. Meredith knew better; she only stayed up late enough to catch the first episodes of the night and not later. Otherwise, she would miss the morning cartoons.

Meredith took a right at York’s Lane, they bustling road led her straight to the centre of the city. There she played under the Christmas lights until her legs hurt. A kind stranger gave her some roasted chestnuts and offered to take her home, but she politely declined.
Tired she sat down next to the clock tower and watched the snowflakes fall; dancing as they did so. They seemed like real people; descending gracefully down the winter air.

Meredith wanted to play some more, but she was too tired. She checked the clock; the big hand was on 6; it was way past her bedtime. She decided to take a quick nap before going home, unafraid of getting lost. After all, her parents always found her, and they always made a big fuss about it.

She closed her eyes and felt the snowflakes melt on her rosy cheeks. She dreamed of Santa and his reindeer; her favourite was dasher. She dreamed of a Christmas tree and presents. But most of all she dreamed of getting better and being able to play with her friends again. And she kept on dreaming of her games, her friends, her folly. A dream she would never wake up from.

In response to Folly from The Daily Post.


Pier By The Riverside

Jason was at the riverside again, at 5am as usual. It was windy out and the water was cold but he didn’t mind. He sat down by the pier, the water up to his ankles. The mainland was across the river; a mass of tries covered with mist. It was a Saturday, most people would be sleeping in. The daring might even go for a light jog but only the truly brave would go for a swim in these waters.

Jason took off his shirt; he was already wearing his swimming trunks. He jumped in, the water was freezing but Jason had been swimming in these waters for the better part of 37 years. Ever since his dad first took him to the pier.

At first, it was just a weekly father and son bonding time. His father was barely around most of the week but he made sure that he was around on Saturdays to take his two boys to the pier.

But then he got sick, it was a rough couple of months for Jason and his brother Rick. They stopped going to the riverside for a while. It wasn’t until he passed away that the brothers truly knew the severity of his condition. Rick never came back to the pier after that, the place had to many memories.

It took Jason sometime to come back to the pier. He would come there often and talk to his dad, as if his voice were contained in the reeds that surrounded the riverbank. Later he would resume his swims, the coolness of the water felt like a cleansing fire for his soul.

Even after losing his job and all his bad relationships Jason never stopped coming to the pier. It was no longer just a memory of his deceased father; it was the anchor that kept him grounded. It was the rock that he could stand up against all the stormy seas. It was the one constant amidst the instability that was his life.

And now, that he has passed most of his troubles Jason still comes to the pier every Saturday at 5am. He still swims in the cool waters. He still talks to the reeds. He still leaves by 5pm and in five years, when his own son is old enough, he’ll bring him to the pier as well. He’ll bring him to the pier by the riverside.

In response to New Horizon from The Daily Post.


The Conundrum

It seemed easy enough at first; all Barry had to do was decide which friend he supported. True Bruce was always grumpy and moody, but he had had a harsh childhood. His parents were killed while he was still very young, they died in front of him in fact. Sure his parents left a large inheritance for him, but it’s hard for a ten-year-old to think about money when his two greatest influences died. Nevertheless, with the help of a family friend, Bruce became on of the city’s best entrepreneurs. He also worked tirelessly with the police force to help with the crime in town. Plus, he made sure that he was never out of shape.

Clark, on the other hand, was from out of town; his parents sent him here by himself when they found out things were going sour. He was adopted by a friendly family and came to live in the countryside. Unlike Bruce, Clark wasn’t all that rich yet became a well-known reporter for a big news agency. Clark was one of those kids who was born under a lucky star; he was handsome, didn’t need to work out and had talent to spare. Plus he was charismatic, incredibly charismatic.

Despite the differences in upbringing, Clark and Bruce were friends even though it often didn’t look like it. This made Barry’s job quite hard.

“Soz Supes, I got to go with Bats on this one. You may be from Krypton, but Bruce is one hell of an earthling.” Barry said, before zipping away at Mach 3.

In response to :Conundrum by The Daily Post.