He flicked through the dictionary searching for hope. He found none. He kept looking, but there was nothing.
© Carl Burkitt 2012
Hope
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Author Archives: carltellstales
Lighthouse
Like his father, with a bottle of gin, Barry gave his life to man the lighthouse. No ships crashed, but a mermaid broke his heart.
© Carl Burkitt 2012
Dad’s eye
She pulled the covers over her midriff, finally ready to experiment. She caught her Dad’s eye, light reflecting off the photo frame
© Carl Burkitt 2012
Nothing to whine about
128 grapes sat by her side. ‘We’ve got nothing to whine about,’ they thought. ‘At least we have each other.’
© Carl Burkitt 2012
Late
He brushed his teeth whilst shaving in the shower, desperate not to be late. She lay on the road, bleeding, having left too early.
© Carl Burkitt 2012
Molly Moth
Bouncing round my room was a sad little thing
A disabled old insect with only one wing
Staring closer at the moth
I saw a top hat it did doff
And a smile as she started to sing:
“Howdy stranger, don’t pity me
For I am filled with unwavering glee
I’m lacking a limb
But I’ve an immovable grin
Making me prettier than a butterfly or three”
That’s what you said
Burning toast
A cheating spouse
The death of a loved one
What is pain?
You’ll never be a writer
You’ve never experienced pain
That’s what you said
But I’m the one with the pen
The sword
I’m the one who could kill you
Make you poor
Turn you into a man
Put a penis on your head
What is pain?
Pain is what you gave
It put this pen in my hand
I could kill you
© Carl Burkitt 2012
Don’t eat them
Don’t eat them
I mean it
Their gooeyness and salty taste will always fascinate you
But I promise nothing good will ever come of eating them
If you pick them, try something else,
Flick
them
Stick them to your Dad’s tool box
Yes, that is naughty, I was joking.
Just don’t eat them
I once knew a boy who ate them so much his nose
fell
off
Yes, that’s correct, that is impossible.
Just don’t eat them
If you eat them, girls will think
you’re smelly
and
gross
Yes, you’re right, girls are smelly and gross.
Just don’t eat them
If you continue to eat them the boogeyman will climb in through your window on the morning of your sixth birthday and smash up all of your favourite toys then climb into your bed to bite your fingers off one by one then slowly removing your skin to wear it as an over coat while tap dancing on your chest wearing a pair of spiky shoes and then he’ll use his pointy nails to slice your nose, ears and lips off and put them up your bottom
That shut you up
Don’t eat them
I meant it
© Carl Burkitt 2012
The duck and I
A duck came up to me the other day and said: “Hey!”
“Quack?” I replied.
“You hungry?”
“Quack.” I nodded.
“Yeah, you look hungry. Want some bread?”
“Quack.” I nodded.
“Yeah, bread’s good isn’t it?”
“Quack.” I nodded.
“It’s crap when dunked in water though, isn’t it?”
“Quack.” I nodded.
“Hard to eat when it’s all soggy, isn’t it?”
“Quack.” I nodded.
“It’s even harder to eat when torn into pieces and chucked in water, isn’t it?”
“Quack.” I nodded as the duck ripped the slice of bread into loads of tiny pieces and threw it in the water.
“Enjoy,” he laughed as he threw the final bit at my head.
I looked at my wet, torn up lunch, confused.
A tear trickled down my face as I watched the duck walk down the path throwing stones towards my brothers and sisters.
© Carl Burkitt 2012
Pocket legs
Stood by the bins was a wonderful thing:
A set of pocket legs, barely reaching my chin.
The night was over, the music was done.
A taxi pulled up for years of fun.
© Carl Burkitt 2012
Carl tells tales 