Tonight's Poet Corner: Treasure Hunter

Treasure Hunter
by Belinda Roddie

My eyes
are underwater, scuba
diving for a crumbling
ship, painting the irises
with forgotten galleons
carved from soft gold.

The salt in the sea
stings enough for my body
to explode in pins and needles
like a compass suspended
in an unforgiving brine.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Saturday's Storyteller: "Though it had been amusing at first, the mounted deer head's constant quoting of memes was beginning to wear on us."

by Belinda Roddie   Though it had been amusing at first, the mounted deer head's constant quoting of memes was beginning to wear on us. So was the bear skin rug's persistent singing of Parry Gripp jingles. So Ronald took out his shotgun and fired two direct shots in between the deer's eyes before sticking lead between the bear's teeth. When the distant din of shells on wood had subsided, we were greeted with the "Nom nom nom" song. "Ron," I said, "they're already dead." Groaning, Ronald placed his gun aside and pulled out the bottle of Jack Daniels from the cupboard. As he poured him and me two glasses, he shut out the incessant LOLCats references emitting from the bullet-riddled deer head's mouth. He told me he knew he shouldn't have left the laptop open for so long last night, but he had been rather busy "playing checkers" with his girlfriend. I didn't know why he had to be specific with his girlfriend, bu...
Read more

Saturday's Storyteller: "Nikolai did it."

by Belinda Roddie "Nikolai did it." "Who?" Anton rolled his eyes. " Nikolai," he repeated. "You know how he is. Always getting into trouble." "I didn't do anything!" Nikolai screeched from the other room. "Sounds like something a guilty person would say!" retorted Anton. "Anton," their mother said, "you realize you are accusing your own brother of shooting the neighbor's dog." "Oh. I thought we were talking about the missing cookies." His mother raised an eyebrow. "Who said they were missing?" " Nikolai did it!" shrieked Anton as he ran outside and into the snow. This week's prompt was provided by myself, Arden Kilzer, and Bethany Kilzer, conceived during a walk on Christmas Day last year.
Read more

Saturday's Storyteller: "As she looked across the battle lines at the invading horde of Lord Darkmoor, she couldn't help but be glad that, while cruel, vile, and destructive, the enemy was honest, unlike her fellow generals."

by Belinda Roddie As she looked across the battle lines at the invading horde of Lord Darkmoor, she couldn't help but be glad that, while cruel, vile, and destructive, the enemy was honest, unlike her fellow generals. When he said he would send ten thousand of his beastly men to battle, he meant it, unlike someone like General Houndstooth, who claimed that he would lead five thousand men to refuge but wound up abandoning a good half of those troops in hostile territory. That, and when Darkmoor talked, each word he let loose from his clustered rows of large tooth was something he actually believed in, or committed to doing. Darkmoor was a doer, not a sayer. General Kagrian patted down the collar of her uniform, which had becomesimultaneously rumpled and stiff in the stormy weather. Soon, the clattering noise of sword upon sword, axe upon axe, would fill the air. Atop her horse, Bloodeye (General Astakon had claimed the steed's name was Nectarine, which Kagrian ignored), she ...
Read more