Blog Posts - Paul A. FreemaN - chaucerian inspirations

Boris Legs It Limerick

9/16/2019

Où est Boris?

Boris Legs it Limerick

In Luxembourg, Boris's smile,
lasted only a very short while.
At the sound of, "No Brexit",
he made for the exit
and ran a proverbial mile.

It's hardly the Dunkirk Spirit, Mr Prime Minister.

Below are links to my Global Short Story Competition winning story, my short-listed story for the National newspaper (Abu Dhabi's annual short story competition) and a story that appeared on the Every Day Fiction site - where you can leave a comment:

http://www.inscribemedia.co.uk/assets/october-ebook.pdf

http://www.thenational.ae/arts-culture/short-story-a-day-for-decisiveness

http://www.everydayfiction.com/the-d-day-diorama-by-paul-a-freeman/#comments

Happy Writing!

Winding Down - A Sonnet

9/16/2019

Red Giant

It seems like an eternity since I last posted here. For some reason I was unable to post, gave up, and on a whim clicked on the site today. Et, voila!

Anyhow, one of the bigger hits I've had since last July was featuring as a winner in the prestigious Maria W. Faust Sonnet Contest. Mine, Winding Down, is a reverse sonnet, describing what would happen with a contracting universe cosmic model. It was in Group 1 of the competition's Laureate's Choice. Click on the link below:

http://sonnetcontest.org/2019-winners/2019-laureates-choice-group-one/

Below are links to my Global Short Story Competition winning story, my short-listed story for the National newspaper (Abu Dhabi's annual short story competition) and a story that appeared on the Every Day Fiction site - where you can leave a comment:

http://www.inscribemedia.co.uk/assets/october-ebook.pdf

http://www.thenational.ae/arts-culture/short-story-a-day-for-decisiveness

http://www.everydayfiction.com/the-d-day-diorama-by-paul-a-freeman/#comments

Happy Writing!

Putin Meets Trump Limerick

7/17/2018

When Putin Met Trump

Said Donald, “My dear, darling Poots,
Perhaps we could wear matching suits;
and then, with my tongue,
once your praises I’ve sung,
I’ll happily lick clean your boots.”

Below are links to my Global Short Story Competition winning story, my short-listed story for the National newspaper (Abu Dhabi's annual short story competition) and a story that appeared on the Every Day Fiction site - where you can leave a comment:

http://www.inscribemedia.co.uk/assets/october-ebook.pdf

http://www.thenational.ae/arts-culture/short-story-a-day-for-decisiveness

http://www.everydayfiction.com/the-d-day-diorama-by-paul-a-freeman/#comments

Happy Writing!

Royal Birth Limerick

4/23/2018

Town Crier Announces Royal Birth

Royal Birth Limerick

"How thrilled and excited are we!"
said the Queen over afternoon tea.
"For Will's wife, Duchess Kate,
has concluded the wait
and delivered up sprog number three."

Well, I haven't posted in a while, what with having to edit three novels, so I thought I'd post something written today.

The Tower awaits me!

Below are links to my Global Short Story Competition winning story, my short-listed story for the National newspaper (Abu Dhabi's annual short story competition) and a story that appeared on the Every Day Fiction site - where you can leave a comment:

http://www.inscribemedia.co.uk/assets/october-ebook.pdf

http://www.thenational.ae/arts-culture/short-story-a-day-for-decisiveness

http://www.everydayfiction.com/the-d-day-diorama-by-paul-a-freeman/#comments

Happy Writing!

'The Perfect Girl' Published in Australia

12/11/2017

The Perfect Girl

My daughter wrote a story titled The Perfect Girl, which in a way resembled the story line of the Tom Hanks film, Big. It concerned a girl who was over-aware of her physical appearance and wanted to be 'perfect'. At a tent on a seaside pier she tells a mysterious clairvoyant her wish and the woman grants it. Suffice to say all doesn't go well.

I helped Kimberly edit the story, then reworded areas of it until it was of a publishable standard and submitted it to Fast Fiction magazine where it was published in the Australian magazine's winter (summer in the northern hemisphere) issue.

What a proud moment for me, considering I did not get my first paid publishing credit until I was 36!

Below are links to my Global Short Story Competition winning story, my short-listed story for the National newspaper (Abu Dhabi's annual short story competition) and a story that appeared on the Every Day Fiction site - where you can leave a comment:

http://www.inscribemedia.co.uk/assets/october-ebook.pdf

http://www.thenational.ae/arts-culture/short-story-a-day-for-decisiveness

http://www.everydayfiction.com/the-d-day-diorama-by-paul-a-freeman/#comments

Happy Writing!

October 24th, 2017

10/24/2017

New Toothbrush

I placed second in the Inter-Board Poetry Community competition for August with my humerous poem Ill-Used (about a new toothbrush), though a friend of mine found the later part of the poem a difficult read.

Anyhow, below is the link, followed by the poem (not for the feint-hearted), followed by the judge, Tim Mayo's assessment of my poem:

ibpc.webdelsol.com/2017/08

Ill-Used

I’ve been ill-used, no other word will do;
pristinely packaged, sanitised and new
a month ago I stood upon display
till someone paid to carry me away.

Once home, he placed me in a cup whose rim
was chipped and whose interior was grim.
Upon a shelf, inside his smallest room,
I stayed, alone, to contemplate my doom.

Next morning he adorned my head with gel –
my bristles had a fresh and minty smell.
But then he raised me up into his mouth
and brushed from east to west, from north to south.

I rubbed against decaying slabs of brown,
deep cavities, raw gums, a tarnished crown,
till finally he scrubbed his furry tongue,
an organ as malodorous as dung.

Each morning since, I’ve gagged upon his breath,
that rancid cavern’s stench is worse than Death,
with plaque and gummed up lips that dribble goo –
I’ve been ill-used, no other word will do.

(I love the conceit in this poem. It is well thought out and well executed. The rhyming couplets accentuate and underline the comedy of the poem. --Tim Mayo)

Below are links to my Global Short Story Competition winning story, my short-listed story for the National newspaper (Abu Dhabi's annual short story competition) and a story that appeared on the Every Day Fiction site - where you can leave a comment:

http://www.inscribemedia.co.uk/assets/october-ebook.pdf

http://www.thenational.ae/arts-culture/short-story-a-day-for-decisiveness

http://www.everydayfiction.com/the-d-day-diorama-by-paul-a-freeman/#comments

Happy Writing!

Spectacular 'Spectator'

9/26/2017

Big Ben

Over the past few months I've been entering the weekly Spectator magazine competition which alternates between poetry and prose.

Since April my work has warranted a special mention on four occasions, and twice I've been a runner-up (that's two 25-quid paydays).

The lady who runs the competition, Lucy Vickery, seems to be more a fan of my poetry than my prose - all my special mentions and runners-up were poems. The runner-up poems are linked below.

Over the past few months I've been entering the weekly Spectator magazine competition which alternates between poetry and prose.

Since April my work has warranted a special mention on four occasions, and twice I've been a runner-up (that's two 25-quid paydays).

The lady who runs the competition, Lucy Vickery, seems to be more a fan of my poetry than my prose - all my special mentions and runners-up were poems. The runner-up poems are linked below.

https://www.spectator.co.uk/2017/08/bowing-and-scraping/

https://www.spectator.co.uk/2017/09/watching-the-clock/

The subjects of the competitions tend to be based on topical political issues or typically British issues that are in the news. My runner-up poems were a 'bowing and scraping' poem about Donald Trump, and a sonnet about Big Ben going on sabbatical.

My sonnet writing has improved immeasurable since I started entering this competition - long may the improvement continue!

Below are links to my Global Short Story Competition winning story, my short-listed story for the National newspaper (Abu Dhabi's, annual short story competition) and a story that appeared on the Every Day Fiction site - where you can leave a comment:

http://www.inscribemedia.co.uk/assets/october-ebook.pdf

http://www.thenational.ae/arts-culture/short-story-a-day-for-decisiveness

http://www.everydayfiction.com/the-d-day-diorama-by-paul-a-freeman/#comments

Happy Writing!

Kim Jong Un Limerick - Published in 'Daily Mail'

8/22/2017

Kim Jong Un

My Kim Jong Un limerick was published in the Daily Mail a couple of weeks back. I've republished it below:

Kim Jong Un is a tyrant with flair,
who has left the U.S. in despair;
but the world knows him best
for his ‘4XL’ chest
and the curious state of his hair.

Enjoy!

Below are links to my Global Short Story Competition winning story, my short-listed story for the National newspaper (Abu Dhabi's, annual short story competition) and a story that appeared on the Every Day Fiction site - where you can leave a comment:

http://www.inscribemedia.co.uk/assets/october-ebook.pdf

http://www.thenational.ae/arts-culture/short-story-a-day-for-decisiveness

http://www.everydayfiction.com/the-d-day-diorama-by-paul-a-freeman/#comments

Happy Writing!

Dr. Who Limerick

7/24/2017

Here's a limerick I knocked up in honour of the amazing news that the new Dr. Who is the fantastic actress, Jodie Whittaker.

The new Time Lord’s quite a surprise;
she’ll emerge once the Scottish one dies.
But I warn you, refrain,
from the urge to complain,
or the Doctor will scratch out your eyes.

Happy regeneration!

Below are links to my Global Short Story Competition winning story, my short-listed story for the National newspaper (Abu Dhabi's, annual short story competition) and a story that appeared on the Every Day Fiction site - where you can leave a comment:

http://www.inscribemedia.co.uk/assets/october-ebook.pdf

http://www.thenational.ae/arts-culture/short-story-a-day-for-decisiveness

http://www.everydayfiction.com/the-d-day-diorama-by-paul-a-freeman/#comments

'Happy Dependence Day' - a Short Story by a Redcoat

7/3/2017

Bulldog Bus

For any American who thinks they really attained independence from England and the Crown, read on...

Happy Dependence Day

Sitting behind his computer in his dorm room, Carl Weston grinned at the email he had just received. “Mom’s inviting me home for Springberg’s ‘Dependence’ Day celebrations,” he told his roommate, emphasising the typo.

On July 3rd, Carl arrived in Springberg.

He pushed open the porch door. “I’m home, Mom.”

“Since when have I been ‘Mom’,” his mother called from the kitchen. “It’s ‘Mum’.”

“Whatever.”

As always when Mrs Weston was cooking, the kitchen was chaotic.

“Shall I take the trash out?” Carl offered.

“‘Trash’? Take out the ‘rubbish’ if that’s what you mean. What kind of English are you picking up at university?”

“I get it,” said Carl. “You’ve gone all British for Independence Day. How quaint.”

With his mother regarding him curiously, Carl tied off a bag of garbage and took it out to the trash can.

A municipality truck was parked outside and workers were putting up decorations along the street. Carl did a double take. Instead of ‘Springberg Municipality’, the truck had ‘Springberg Council’ written along the side. And there was no way those flags being fixed to the streetlights were the Stars and Stripes. The blue rectangle in the top left corner had the requisite number of stars, but they were superimposed over a British flag.

“What’s happening?” Carl asked a municipal worker who was unfurling a banner with the message ‘Happy Dependence Day’ on it.

“What do you think’s happening? We’re preparing for tomorrow’s celebrations.” Grinning, the man pumped the air with his fist. “U.C.A.,” he chanted. “U.C.A.”

Back in his mother’s kitchen, Carl asked, “What does U.C.A. mean?”

“United Colonies of America, of course,” said Mrs Weston. “Get me the butter from the fridge, will you? Thanks, dear.”

Thoroughly mystified, Carl excused himself and went upstairs to his bedroom. From a shelf he took down and opened An illustrated Encyclopaedia of American History.

‘Criminal acts,’ read Carl, ‘by the Boston Harbour Saboteurs against the Motherland’s economic interests, led to the War of Dependence (1775-1783). After the Blue Coats’ defeat, the Fledgling Fathers of the thirteen Colonies signed the Declaration of Dependence. This signified an end to hostilities and pledged allegiance to the Crown.’

Stunned, Carl flipped to a picture of the flag he saw being hung from the street lights. The accompanying text said, ‘The American flag is commonly known as ‘Starry Jack’. The stars represent the fifty American colonies, whilst the main body of the flag incorporates the Motherland’s famous ‘Union Jack’.’

“Come down, Carl,” Mrs Weston shouted from the foot of the stairs. “Your dad’s home.”

Carl closed the book and let out a nervous laugh. “This must be a prank,” he said, scouring the room for hidden cameras. “Let me just play along.”

Carl found Mr Weston out on the porch.

“Nothing like a sun-downer on the veranda,” said Mr Weston, pouring himself a gin and tonic. He indicated the cool box beside his chair. “Grab yourself a can of bitter, Carl.”

It wasn’t until late evening, when Mr Weston raised his glass to toast the Queen of England, and when Mrs Weston suggested that after the Dependence Day parade they could watch the one-day cricket match, that Carl’s patience finally ran out.

“Enough, already,” he said, his speech slurred by alcohol. “This is the United States of America and tomorrow’s In-dependence Day. I don’t know what reality show deal you’ve signed, but this isn’t funny.”

With that, Carl got to his feet, went indoors, stumbled upstairs and flopped onto his bed.

An hour later, tiptoeing to the kitchen to get a drink of water, he overheard voices from the porch.

“This is just like Jeff McCarthy’s daughter,” Mr Weston was saying. “She kept going on about weird sports no one had ever heard of – basketball, and a game she called baseball.”

“I blame university,” said Mrs Weston, “and all these drugs the kids experiment with. So what are we going to do about Carl?”

“The McCarthy girl became normal again after just a week at Springberg Mental Asylum,” said Mr Weston. “Let’s wait until after Dependence Day, then get Carl sectioned at the asylum.”

Making a U-turn, Carl tiptoed back upstairs. “It’s not me that should be in the nuthouse,” he murmured, and lying on his bed made plans to escape from Springberg.

Next morning, blaming his previous evening’s behaviour on a twenty-four hour virus, Carl accompanied his still suspicious parents to the Dependence Day parade. There was the ‘Sad’ King George the Third float (‘Sad’ due to the rebelliousness of his subjects), the Battle of Bunker Hill float with Red and Blue Coats re-enacting the great English victory, and marching bands in eighteenth century regalia beating drums and playing penny whistles.

When the hero Benedict Arnold’s float had passed by, Carl made his move. Ducking between school children attired in period costume, he crossed the street and headed for the bus station.

Once the Greyhound reached its first rest stop, Carl breathed more easily. Inside Gracie’s Diner he ordered coffee and waffles off the menu. Only now could he reflect calmly on what was transpiring in Springberg. There had to be a secret government department that dealt with this kind of thing, hadn’t there?

Staring out the diner window, Carl watched as the side of the Greyhound bus shimmered. The sleek greyhound motif transformed into a pugnacious canine face, and the lettering altered until it spelt out ‘Bulldog Buses’.

Then the waitress arrived at Carl’s table with his meal.

“I didn’t order buttered scones and tea,” Carl insisted, snatching up the menu in time to see ‘hamburger’ change to ‘fish and chips’ and ‘apple pie’ change to ‘rhubarb crumble’.

“Is everything alright, sir?” said the waitress, frowning.

Carl wasn’t sure how to reply. There was something important he needed to remember, but try as he might, he didn’t know what. Instead, feeling a bit of a chump, he smiled up at the pretty young waitress and said, “Happy Dependence Day, miss.”