Category Archives: Six Sentences

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Childhood in Six American Sentences

This poem was written for two prompts: Read Write Poem #53 and One Single Impression #39: Childhood Memories.

The Read Write Poem Prompt directed participants to each write one (or more) American Sentences. If you’re not hip to what an American Sentence is, go here or here for more info. I’ve contributed a few sentences for the prompt, but the gracious folks who run RWP more or less gave us a “free prompt” for this week.

So what did I do? I combined American Sentences with the Six Sentences form and produced a poem with Six American Sentences to fit One Single Impression’s theme of “Childhood Memories”. (You can read more of my American Sentences and Six Sentences on this blog.)

Enjoy.

-Nicole

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X marks the spot of my generation and small town memories. The eye of Thundera rises red, a Saturday morning sunrise. Bracelets, jump ropes, Doc Martins and black eyeliner jumble together. Portals open to distant city scenes through videos and music. We scrawl and send messages in sullen and sanguine bottles by turns. We poke each other’s hearts and hope for fresh dreams to explode from within.

Written 11/18/08
© 2008 Nicole Nicholson. All Rights Reserved.

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Tragic Romantics in Six Sentences

This was written earlier today, but I realised it fits with the “Discoveries” Prompt on Totally Optional Prompts, since it was the result of an epiphany I had about what we do to hurt ourselves and prevent ourselves from getting the help and comfort we need. It’s kind of rough, but I am posting it here for your pleasure. Enjoy.

-Nicole

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We bury ourselves in tragic ground, set ourselves on fire, become our own funeral pyres. We refuse the water, expose our pain-racked roots to the fiery face of the burning sun. We wither and die, becoming martyrs and ghosts, crying on the pain posthumously in ashen whispers and post-dated screams. We become beautiful corpses riding shotgun in our own black nightmares. We become nightmares, frightful to look at, faces contorted in beautiful agony only for a lack of healing salve that we could have rubbed on our own wounds to seal them. We wait for rescuers…and we wait…and we wait…and we die…and we do this to ourselves.

Written 10/12/08
© 2008 Nicole Nicholson. All Rights Reserved.

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Modern-Day Jeremiah In Six Sentences

This Six Sentences piece was written for the Tuesday Title prompt at Poefusion. Enjoy.

-Nicole

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Listening to the color of my mind has produced blackness on my face. I look for ashes to rain down upon myself, sackcloth to wear, but find neither plentiful in this happy, sunny, articulate void called twentieth century America. The azure coasts call my name in fairy tale pixie tones, and their wonderful blues seduce my heart, but succeed only for a moment. I make my own ears go tin and turn my heart away, for I want to be Jeremiah right now, wailing requiems for liberty, beauty, passion, people, and meaning in the neon concrete temple courtyards of this North American Israel. Listening to these golden azure songs will steal my feet away from the path of lament, never to return.

Written 9/30/08
© 2008 Nicole Nicholson. All Rights Reserved.

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Night Shift DJ In Six Sentences

This Six Sentences piece was written for the “free prompt” on Totally Optional Prompts. Enjoy.

-Nicole
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Unseen, he presides over the city at night with a disembodied voice in mellow and bass tones. It snakes through woofers, tweeters, and kickers, becoming chocolate gold flooding the insides of our chariots of choice. He gently teases our ears, wraps around our hearts, and rewards our submission to his seduction with Nina Simone, Sam Cooke, and Stevie Wonder. Many others follow through the night as he keeps us hanging, enraptured, onto a string of black pearls punctuated by golden station IDs, backsells, and frontsells. Painting tonight’s soundtrack as we drive through this electric city, he reminds us to look into each other’s eyes and see stars that rival the ones above us, buried behind tiny pupils. One last summer night has become stamped with his machinations hidden behind soundboards and microphones and buried deep within this city.

Written 9/28/08
© 2008 Nicole Nicholson. All Rights Reserved.

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Beach Rendezvous in Six Sentences

This is my first attempt at the six sentences form and was written for Read Write Poem prompt # 43: rubberneckers. I remembered the couple who took their nighttime beach walk in Beach After Dark and found out that walking was not the only thing they’d do that evening…heh heh.

Anyway, here it is. Do you feel guilty for intruding? Perhaps a little perverted? Uneasy? Fascinated? You be the judge of your own feelings. Enjoy.

-Nicole

P.S. If you want some more good example of Six Sentences, also check out Scot Young’s blog.

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She sits astraddle the young man, straight and tall, the queen of his night. Her part of the dance has just begun, a slow up-and-down rhythm that she rides in time to the ocean waves lapping at their secret midnight beach shore. The young man’s chiseled, yet soft arms reach up, guiding sweaty hands that gently dig their fingers into her waist. His buttocks tightens, pushing and propelling him further upward into a singular darkness of pussy and moonlit, star-punctuated skies. I watch from a distance, hidden behind a cluster of rocks, my eyes affixed to the scene. The heat rises up from their secret coupling and begins to infect my own loins with a warm, tingling wash.

Written 9/6/08
© 2008 Nicole Nicholson. All Rights Reserved.

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