There’s a boy that I often see. He’s tattooed with stories that he sometimes catches me trying to read. There is one of a black horse with wings thats flying through a hellscape. I wonder if they are stories of past or dreams of the future? I wonder if I am in the story? And if so, am I a villain, a hero, or just an extra that has no lines? I take another glance trying to catch a hint. A word or two before he moves into the future and leaves me behind still wondering.
For this one I repurposed a poem entitled “The Tattooed Boy” that I wrote about my son recently. Although he doesn’t have a horse tattoo (that I know of), he was born year of the horse and I thought of him when I saw today’s prompt word.
A Portrait of My Son – The Tattooed Boy
If you enjoy these very short stories, you can also check out one of my earliest books – MONTY’S VERY SHORT SHORTS which includes 366 illustrated pieces (one for each day in my life of 2020).
She wielded her tongue as a sword; Deftly cutting me down; Slicing like a master chef Breaking down a bird; Efficient and precise; Leaving me in pieces; Pieces I’ve tried To stitch back together to no avail; Her cut’s too many, too deep; Too broken to even weep.
If you enjoy these very short stories, you can also check out one of my earliest books – MONTY’S VERY SHORT SHORTS which includes 366 illustrated pieces (one for each day in my life of 2020).
One of the things that got me started writing regularly (daily in fact) was to write ‘Very Short Stories” using prompt words provided on Twitter under the hashtag #VSS365. In 2020, I wrote a very short story (or poem) for everyday of the year. These, with accompanying illustrations, became my first major project and resulted in Monty’s Very Short Shorts:
After the project concluded and with the later demise of Twitter I no longer did this daily practice and worked on other projects. But recently, I discovered that “VSS” was alive and well on Threads and the writing community there is quite supportive and engaged. So I decided to try my hand at it again. I’m not sure whether I’ll do this everyday (and even if I do I’m not sure if I will repost to my Blahg or not), but let’s give it a go. Here is the latest Threads VSS (now I’m up to date…):
#Silk
I had everything planned out, an intimate dinner, romantic soundtrack, rose petals spread across silk sheets. A perfect evening for three. 😉
One of the things that got me started writing regularly (daily in fact) was to write ‘Very Short Stories” using prompt words provided on Twitter under the hashtag #VSS365. In 2020, I wrote a very short story (or poem) for everyday of the year. These, with accompanying illustrations, became my first major project and resulted in Monty’s Very Short Shorts:
After the project concluded and with the later demise of Twitter I no longer did this daily practice and worked on other projects. But recently, I discovered that “VSS” was alive and well on Threads and the writing community there is quite supportive and engaged. So I decided to try my hand at it again. I’m not sure whether I’ll do this everyday (and even if I do I’m not sure if I will repost to my Blahg or not), but let’s give it a go. Here is the firstsecondthird Threads VSS I participated in from a few days ago:
#Courage
She laid herself bare, All her doubts, Her questions, Her insecurities, Exposed, naked, And raw for me to see — All courage to me.
One of the things that got me started writing regularly (daily in fact) was to write ‘Very Short Stories” using prompt words provided on Twitter under the hashtag #VSS365. In 2020, I wrote a very short story (or poem) for everyday of the year. These, with accompanying illustrations, became my first major project and resulted in Monty’s Very Short Shorts:
After the project concluded and with the later demise of Twitter I no longer did this daily practice and worked on other projects. But recently, I discovered that “VSS” was alive and well on Threads and the writing community there is quite supportive and engaged. So I decided to try my hand at it again. I’m not sure whether I’ll do this everyday (and even if I do I’m not sure if I will repost to my Blahg or not), but let’s give it a go. Here is the firstsecond Threads VSS I participated in from a few days ago:
Seeking Honey Pot
Double-oh-seven has nothing on me, Oh! I’ve got something you’ve got to see (so go ahead and DM me)! I’ve got secrets to spill, Take me at your will (I’ve needs to fulfill)! Seeking honey pot, No need to eavesdrop (Your lips on mine will have me talking non-stop)!
Nostalgia seems like a good one to use to dip into one of my stories from growing up. I wrote a few of them in Monty’s Almanac 202x, which is an autobiographical collection of short stories, poetic prose, and quirky cartoons about a young boy and his comic misadventures growing up on a commune in Vermont during the 80’s. Here is one of my favorites.
Bacon’s Beginning
by Monty Vern
I’m not sure it’s good to title a story spoiling the ending, but what’s done is done. I’m most oft to write onward versus back despite my nostalgic tendencies. While I would like you to think that means I write with confidence, I can’t help but out myself as just a lazy editor. So onward I shall go.
It was a spring day. Not that I remember the day that clearly, but I know that maybe six months later it was fall, so I did the seasonal math. Spring in Vermont is also known as mud season, which aside from being a very apt description, is appropriate given the subject of this story. A dead-end dirt road mixed with snow melting from the inkling of warmth from the early spring sun makes mud. “True Vermonters”* tend to use their words plainly (and sparingly). All mystery provided by what’s left unsaid between clipped statements of indisputable facts. “It’s a cold one today”, a common greeting about 9 months out of the year, is on its surface, a simple observation. But the silence leading to and from these words, along with the acknowledging upward head nod, have special meaning unknown to flatlanders.
*Alright, I must confess that I’m an imposter – a transplant from the flatlands (also known as anywhere south of Vermont) to the Green Mountain state. I moved to Vermont about 18 exceptionally long months after my birth. Worse yet, my formative first months were in New Jersey, the flattest of the flatlands where apparently I absorbed a New Jersey accent that true Vermonters picked up on instantly and was enough reason for a beating on the school playground more than once. I share this not from any shame (although I have plenty), but from the deep sense of integrity that I earned from my adoptive Green Mountaineers (one might say it was beaten into me).
Well, there I’ve gone again bushwhacking off the story’s tale. Where was I? Ah, yes, Bacon…
Bacon’s Middle
Don’t worry if you missed the first installment as those who didn’t will attest you didn’t miss much.
Where was I? Ah, yes, Bacon…
So, it was mud season in Vermont and mom, and I were off on a safari of sorts. Despite there being a perfectly good (i.e. appropriately fragrant) pig farm just a neighborly 1/4 mile up at the end of our dirt road, we were adventuring along the highways to a more proper purveyor of piggies.
Let me pause here for a moment and just let you know now, in case you haven’t already caught up, that this is a story about, at least tangentially, a ‘seasonal pet’, i.e. cute little piglet grows up to become a ham steak, some sausage, and, of course, bacon. As I said from the start (of the first installment which really didn’t say much and would be a waste of your time to seek out), I blew the whole story with the title. Anyway, if you’re not too faint-of-heart, and still with me, shall we continue with our journey?
Ah, but I feel it’s necessary to provide some context for you in case you’re new to my word works so you can fully appreciate this tale. For those of you who missed my “Ode to Soy” (also available @montyscribbles… cough, cough, plug, plug), My mom migrated with me to Vermont at the tender age of 18 months and took up a “healthy lifestyle” – colloquially known as being a granola mom. Now at this point unless you were there (hi mom!!), you’re probably confused about how being force-fed tofu “French fries” is related to fattening up a little piggy, but I promise you it will all make sense in due time.
Speaking of time…what a shame that we are out of it just as we were getting to the good part. No jokes…I personally promise that the next installment will get at the sweet, creamy, heart of the story….
Bacon’s End
Patience is a virtue and you’ve been very, very virtuous so be assured the end is nigh and the telling of this tale will be all told.
It just occurred to me, however, that the title of this piece may need some explanation. I generally strive for clarity in titles and I did the same above. However, where my intention was to reassure you that the story would be fully told, I’ve unintentionally foreshadowed the fate of Bacon. And, while you wouldn’t be wrong to point out that naming the poor piggy Bacon in the first place was an exercise in foreshadowing (and perhaps poor taste), the transformation of Bacon to bacon will be left unspoken, as it’s tangential to the story. So, my apologies for any misdirection felt.
So, where were we? Ah yes, I was promising to get to the sweet creamy center of this story. Briefly recapping for those that are easily distracted, it was a sunny mud season day in Vermont, my granola mom and I were venturing across the state to pick up our very own ‘seasonal pet’ piglet – the aforementioned Bacon. Granola mom being an important descriptor to keep in mind as I continue.
So here I am, a tofu-tortured, grass-fed, Green-mountain country boy entering a sow’s den. Sorry, I mean pen. And to my astonishment I see a pig as wide as two times I was tall, and doubly long in length munching lazily upon a mid-morning snack. Now, I’m not going to suggest that I wasn’t impressed a little by this mama’s dimensions, but that was not the astonishing fact. No, what sent shivers down my spine, was nothing less than literal sweet creamy centers.
Twinkies, Ding Dongs, and Ho-Hos, oh my! My sugar deprived soul just about burst at the sight of this pig’s fantasy (as in my fantasy, to be clear) come true – piles and piles of snack cakes to snuggle, snort, and stuff to the heart’s content. No joke. This pig farm was located next to a Hostess Factory and factory rejects were within her feed as she suckled her hungry piglets.
So basically, this is a simple (and true) story of a boy’s envy of a pig. So please forgive me for having really enjoyed devouring Bacon, knowing some essence of that sweet snack cake goodness was contained within.
“N” in Zapfino TypefaceZapfino “N” Found Pattern
If you like nostalgia with a side of humor feel free to check out more stories like these in Monty’s Almanac 202x.
This is another new term for me, let’s play with it.
A Very Late Morning
He came to slowly. His eyes cemented shut. The light of a bright mid-day sun glowing fleshy-orange against his lids. He tried to piece together how he got here through a head full of brain-gruel. His last murky memory a last call. He’d ordered a very unnecessary mizu-wari. The smell of which now seeped from his pores mixing with half digested shabu-shabu bits. As he cracked open his eyes his skull split into sharp, jagged shards – a kaleidoscope of pain and color.
In this case I came up with the kenning I wanted to use – “brain-gruel” and then worked from there. Unfortunately this little piece is an autobiographical description from one of my day’s living and working in Japan. The night prior was a long one, but the day after felt like eternity. I eventually did show up at work that day, but I was thoroughly useless. Ah, the young and stupid. I’m glad it was over a quarter century ago.
This is a repost from about a year ago when I played with the iambic pentameter form just for fun. It’s not a perfect example as I didn’t get the stresses correct throughout, but I call it a good effort.
Monty Goes Iambic Pentameter
The clock says it is just past noon this day; In a rain cloud darkened room I sit; Tapping out ten syllabled poetry, In a classically metered rhythm. Summoning a Shakespearean-like muse; Counting words bit by bit under my breath; To get this iambic pentameter prose. Is it working? Or is this just a ruse? A form living long past its rightful death? Just re-teaching me how to count my toes? All I know is I’m enjoying myself And, that’s what really counts I suppose.
If you were to ask me if I’m a fan of horror, my first reaction would be to say no. Horror scares me. It horrifies me, if you will. But it is exciting in a way and while I’ll pass on this genre in film, I’m willing to explore it more in reading and writing. The first horror novel that I read was Stephen King’s Pet Cemetery and it totally freaked me out. It didn’t help that I lived on a dead-end dirt road called Cemetery Road at the time. But it was a thrilling read to and it wasn’t long before I read another King novel re-seeking that excitement. That was back in about sixth grade, I’d guess.
The below series, I’ve posted before. I created it for the first #vssmurder prompts back during the Halloween season of 2020. I had a little too much fun with it.
What do you think? Are these horror, horrible, or a mixture of the two?
On this anniversary of my first A to Z challenge, I’m posting each of the illustrated “seriously silly poems” from my book Apples Eating Zebras and other seriously silly poetry — a carefully edited and polished compilation of my A to Z posts from last year. Enjoy!
A is for ‘And Silly Be’
Stay tuned for more silly poetry from A to Z!
Pick up a copy of this silly collection dedicated to the child in all of us and enjoy with a loved one. Or stick around as I’ll continue posting each illustrated poem one letter at a time throughout the month of April. Have fun and stay silly!
Zoomorphism is a literary technique in which animal attributes are imposed upon non-animal objects, humans, and events. literarydevices.net Well look at that. We’ve come allContinue reading “Z is for Zoomorphism”
A figure of speech, hYpophoria is when a writer raises a question, and then immediately provides an answer to that question. literarydevices.net Well, well, well.Continue reading “Y is for hYpophora”
Expletive is a grammatical construction that starts with words like it, here, and there. It does not contribute to the meaning of a sentence butContinue reading “X is for eXpletive”
Wit is a clever expression of thought intended to make readers laugh. literarydevices.net Oh no. No. No. No. This is dangerous ground. Asking an almostContinue reading “W is for Wit”
A vignette is a small impressionistic scene, an illustration, a descriptive passage, a short essay that is neither a plot nor a full narrative description,Continue reading “V is for Vignette”
An understatement is a figure of speech used to intentionally make a situation seem less important than it really is. literarydevices.net Well this should beContinue reading “U is for Understatement”
Trochaic is a rhythmic unit composed of two syllables — stressed followed by an unstressed syllable — used in poetry. literarydevices.net Oh cool! I’ve beenContinue reading “T is for Trochaic”
Synesthesia refers to a technique of presenting ideas, characters, or places in such a manner that they appeal to more than one sense, like hearing,Continue reading “S is for Synesthesia”
Rhyme is a literary device in which identical or similar concluding syllables in different words are repeated. literarydevices.net There were a lot of choices forContinue reading “R is for Rhyme”
A quatrain is four lines of verse. literarydevices.net There is no required rhyme scheme or syllable count to qualify as a quatrain…but I can’t helpContinue reading “Q is for Quatrain”
A pseudonym is a fictitious name or an alias. literarydevices.net I’ve chosen to use a pseudonym for my writing (my given name isn’t Monty Vern,Continue reading “P is for Pseudonym”
Oxymoron is a figure of speech paring two words together that are opposing and/or contradictory. literarydevices.net I was tempted to be lazy today and pullContinue reading “O is for Oxymoron”
Nostalgia is pleasure and sadness that is caused by remembering something from the past and wishing that you could experience it again. literarydevices.net Nostalgia seemsContinue reading “N is for Nostalgia”
A metaphor is a figure of speech that makes a comparison between two non-similar things. literarydevices.net I originally created this post for C is forContinue reading “M is for Metaphor”
A limerick is a poem of five lines in a single stanza with rhyme scheme AABBA and usually intended to be humorous and suggestive. literarydevices.netContinue reading “L is for Limerick”
A kenning is a stylistic device defined as a two-word phrase that describes and object through metaphors (also described as a ‘compressed metaphor’) literarydevices.net ThisContinue reading “K is for Kenning”
Juxtaposition is implied comparison by placing two entities side by side to create dramatic or ironic contrast. literarydevices.net This is a technique that I’m sureContinue reading “J is for Juxtaposition”
Iambic Pentameter is a poem beat that uses 10 syllables in each line in which an unstressed syllable is followed by a stressed syllable. literarydevices.netContinue reading “I is for Iambic Pentameter”
Horror is a fictional genre that evokes strong feelings of shock, terror, revulsion, fear or outrage. literarydevices.net If you were to ask me if I’mContinue reading “H is for Horror”
Gustatory Imagery allows the readers to imagine the sense of taste while reading a poem or text. literarydevices.net Yummy! I’m going to pull out anContinue reading “G is for Gustatory Imagery”
Fiction encompasses stories that are created, invented, and made-up by the writer. literarydevices.net I was an avid creative writer of fiction when I first startedContinue reading “F is for Fiction (#AtoZ 2023)”
Elegy is a form of poetry that reflects on death or loss literarydevices.net For those that have been following me regularly, you know that I’veContinue reading “E is for Elegy (#AtoZ 2023)”
Monty’s Blahg 