MediocreMan

Short and Sweet · 27 June 2026

It happens more often that I would like to admit, but sometimes I leave my blog post to the last minute. So since that has happened this week, I will make it short and sweet.

Now, I could say something pithy about good things come in small packages or that you ought to be able to say something in less words what you can say in more. But I am not going to do that. (Even though I already did, technically.) Instead, I am just going to write whatever I think and call it good. And that will be that. Short and sweet. And maybe to a point.

I was actually going to write about writing being fairly easy. At least sometimes, but I decided that I needed to be shorter than a quick essay about writing. (And yes, I know that saying something about being shorter leaves me open to all sorts of comments about height. Comment on.) So what to write that is short and sweet?

Well, I suppose that I really have nothing to write about. Which is no big deal, right? I mean, I write about nothing all the time. Or at least it seems like it. I am sure I have written about nothing way more than I would like to admit. Which is surely a problem. At least if you want to keep readers. Which is not necessarily a problem for me. After all, besides those few faithful readers (both real and imaginary), I do not have much here that will either attract new readers or scare off old readers. (And by old readers, I do not mean age. Sheesh. It seems that I am having to qualify my statements a lot. Thanks, Marc.)

By the way, Marc is a real reader. He might not read my posts all that often anymore, but he used to tease me about some of my posts. Many of my posts. Which at least told me that he was reading. And he likes to trap me with my own words. Like when I say something stupid. Which is more often than I would like.

By the way (again), I noticed that I open sentences with “which” quite a bit. Which could be a problem. After all, if the grammar police were out in force, they would surely give me a citation for having phrases rather than sentences. Which is okay. I am not worried about the grammar police. I used to worry. But not anymore.

(By the way, a third time, the picture of the echidna has nothing to do with the post. It just came as a picture for short. Who knew?)

Okay. Well, I seem to have run off the rails this morning. But I guess that is what happens when you just want to put out a blog post that is short and sweet.

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Memories of Chasing Butterflies · 20 June 2026

When I was a child
I loved chasing butterflies
They were bright and colorful
They were music for my eyes.

The times that I would catch them
I would let them go again
I guess I always thought
That was how I’d be their friend.

Then, I’d watch them fly away
As they did flitter in the sky
I would sit there in the field
And watch others fly on by.

And each year as I grew
I chased butterflies less and less
It was such a silly thing to do
Was what I thought, I guess.

For chasing butterflies
Is living life without a goal
It is being a child forever
It is not having any role.

But every now and then I try
To chase a butterfly or two
Out in the fields of childhood
Where everything is new.

I still marvel at the butterflies
With so many colors on their wings
And when I catch a butterfly
My soul, it really sings.

And when I let it go again
And watch it flittering so high
I marvel at all the butterflies
Fluttering in the sky.

And then it makes me realize
That goals are not the only thing
You can stop and chase the butterflies
And make your heart to sing.

So when I see a rainbow
Or some colors catch my eyes
My mind is filled with memories
Of chasing butterflies.

[Write a narrative poem about a child chasing butterflies.
You may choose to make this purely descriptive, or use it as a metaphor. Narrative poems are stories told in poetic verse.
DailyPrompt prompt]

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Tap Tap Tapping · 13 June 2026

As she sat within her room
The deadline o’er her did loom
The sword of Damocles hanging
Would surely spell her doom.

Her editor her nemesis was
Always fussing just because
She waited for the latest time
And this did always cause a buzz.

For ever there had been a tapping
Somebody’s pen his desk was rapping
Causing her such consternation
Because her boss thought she was napping.

And each and every day she thought
That life should never be this fraught
With such incessant tap tap tapping
That should make her think of aught.

But no, her thoughts did always yield
To ideas flung so far afield
But never to the task at hand
Oh she wished she had some kind of shield.

Then she would rack her brain no more
Her ship would dock upon the shore
The story she was writing came
Despite the tap tap tapping evermore.

But one day, she thought of Poe’s dark raven
And how she was so weak, so frail, so craven
But now she would be forevermore
Encouraged and ever braven.

For to the tapper she said, “Nevermore.”
As she threw his pen upon the floor
“Nevermore shall you be tap tap tapping!
Thus declares the brave Lenore!”

The others cheered around the floor
The tapping would cease forevermore
None would be bothered. No nevermore.
Because of the wonderful, brave Lenore.

[The only sound was the incessant tapping, distracting her from her thoughts.
Using any plot or setting you like, write a story which focuses strongly on what the protagonist can hear. Consider how your writing style reflects this distraction.
DailyPrompt prompt]

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