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April Challenge: “Default” (1 Viewer)

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Chesters Daughter

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This is a “regular” month, therefore, entrants must post their own entries this month.

Discussion regarding any entry, or any challenge related issues, may take place in either Bistro during any phase of the challenge. Kindly be mindful that secure entries are only discussed in the Secure Bistro to preserve the first rights of entrants.

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The prompt for this month's challenge, as chosen by jenthepen is Default

You are free to interpret the prompt in any way you wish, though of course, site rules apply. If you are unsure of the challenge rules please read the 'stickies' at the top of the board. Please note that all entries are eligible to receive critique in the voting thread.

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This challenge will close on the 15th of April at 7pm EST.



Poetry Mentor
Staff member
Senior Mentor
Death by Default

It had always been there, hiding, waiting
she was blissfully unaware that walked with her
in the shadowed forest and sacred solitude, where her
ink stained fingers scribbled poetry on white paper
and it followed, in her fast paced quest for life and love
loving the life she lived

But it was there, nesting in her chest
under her ribs, sending secret
tendrils deep into her breasts and bones
icy fingers seeking her life force as she
danced to her dreams, sipping wine
and spending time
as it it was fool's gold

Even while she laughed and loved
it invaded her strong spine
syphoned her energy and
made her bones brittle, a little bit
at a time, until she could no longer climb
wooded trails where she once worshiped
but the trees whispered on without her
and all the while she was unaware

She was losing her auburn hair as she
restlessly dozed in her rocking chair
early winter slipped into late spring, fevered
dreams came on hungry raven wings and
savagely picked her memories to pieces

She forgot the things she had known
familiar faces, lost loves, wild seeds
she had sown, poetry unwritten
suspended in time when life
was sweet and so was the wine

Thin skin stretched across fragile bones
her hands moved like wounded doves fluttering
frantically, clinging to the life she loved
finally she surrendered to deep sleep

Then IT stopped her breath in her hollow
chest, and at last she was laid to rest


Senior Member


She shivered at the ghastliest term of the English lexicon some sound of a computer speaking in beeps or the bank and how my dear god I would rip my eyes from the sockets again she said never to hear or utter such a revolting phrase, or a word actually, she decided rationally, it is in fact only one word, so breathe woman she told herself in her default mode. Then she stood and screamed at the window pane. Are we technicians! she gobbled most of the words into her mouth seriously and would try again later after some self-training. Perhaps she could open the window and remove this nightie gown, dribble dribble and then she would really scream something fucking outrageous and really effing significant to the world. She did scream it, she did, she screamed Your cat shits out of the windowwwws out of her window. That’s better.

Downstairs Wally he said that woman upstairs batshit-bitch rolling his eyes but there’s something about her style, he sipped coffee. Euch He returned to his double screen babe-mate with her ass waved in his screens prettily. His ass waved in the air also where he could ask Simone any question, a perfect life, any question in the world for a price of coffee, Euch. What’s your favorite color he asked her for his ten bucks when she was wearing green socks. Nice. Do you like green? he tinkled.
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Chesters Daughter

Staff member
Global Moderator
Calling the Cavalry

She fairly worships the switch
that initiates autopilot,
a lovely little default setting
installed by her Creator
upon the illustrious event
of her conception.

On occasions when she faces
a tidal wave
with a tornado at her back,
a flick of that switch
coaxes forth
the unstoppable automaton,
then there is no anxiety or fear
or smiles or cheer,
in fact, there is no emotion at all,
just an unrelenting resolve to solve
whatever woe had led to its summoning.

Once AI takes command of the helm,
she knows symphonies, bird song,
and her voice, as well,
become monotone,
and every scent, sight, and sunset
becomes grey,
but that’s okay
it’s a small price to pay
because she can walk through
a fire or flood
and does not recoil at the sight of blood,
in fact, she can stomp on everything
that gets in her way
until Mrs. Robot saves the day.

Over the years,
fate cast its stones
and broke her bones
as she navigated life
less often herself
and more often her “clone”,
and while that switch
has become worn to the point
of disintegration
she knows it will hold
sans trepidation
for what is divine in nature
defies annihilation.

As her end draws nigh,
catastrophic calamities
will lessen in frequency,
the crippled are rarely called upon
in crisis intervention,
so she’ll likely flip the switch just for fun
to spare her “other” from uselessness,
and as she draws her last
she’ll tell you
she welcomes her end
for forward she will still stomp
gratis of her best friend
who always came through
when she was in need
and brought her triumph
when she could not
alone succeed.

The next plane
is likely to be more serene,
but should it mirror
the current scheme,
her default setting
will continue to conquer
like none ever before seen.


Friends of WF

She ran, she screamed
like a mad woman’s hair on fire
seeing only red
blind with fear
lunging over step stools,
arms flailing, making contact with the vah-z

Purple, yellow, green,
flying in all directions
strewn across red and gray linoleum squares
no water however
no one had filled the vah-z in days

As it tumbled upside down
a large hand came through the ether
and missed
ricocheted the crystal
to the cushioned safety of Corgi’s bed
he was not pleased

Low groans and weepy whispers
echoed through the hallway
What manner of malfeasance evoked
such unhinged dismay?
a mouse
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