Weekly Photo Challenge – Admiration

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/photo-challenges/admiration/

Where Admiration lies. 
Places far off in distance
Places close to your heart
Places that never leave your mind.

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#weeklyphotochallenge

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Stairway

Stairway

The path up or down.
     The landing between
          Things settle here waiting
               Lingering until purpose strikes.

                            The right path up draws
               Easier to drop down lower
          Expectations are dead weight
    Promise is weightless at first.

I climb to a better place
    I cling to hope desperately.
         My eyes keen to path below
               Every stair frees me from doubt

Will there be rooftop views?
     How far does one need to climb?
           What if the door is locked there?
                       Where will beginnings end?

Hotel Restaway

The smell of bleach. It fills a hall.  Rooms surround the abrasive odor.   The darkness in the hallway didn’t come from lack of light.   It crawled in on two legs like everyone else did.   One lost the power to drag itself out however.

Down the hall, Perry leans against the door frame.  His pale form, a ghost with growth rings like a tree.  The ring of grey hair covers part of his head.  Grey stubble gives his pinkish face detail.   Hollow eyes peer out.  A cigarette clings to his lips.   The dead look cones from to many visits here.

“You see anything?” Thomas looks over at him.   His eyes likes daggers.   Dark balls of hate latch on him.   The cop knows nothing is ever said here.   The guy lost everything so long ago.   He’s asked him the same question about once a month for three years.

“Officer, I saw a mop it was red.   But the piece of as moving it around was great for 50 year old.   I asked her if she could clean me up a bit too.  The bitch said ‘fuck you dirt bag’.  Wish I could do more.  But I got no money..you know? ”

“Well, next time…maybe it’s you? You had to hear something.   Noone bleeds out in a hall without a struggle.”  Thomas tries the cop look again.

“Dude, my pizza is here.   Have a nice day Officer Shithead.” Perry smiles.

Perry’s eyes lock on two girls walking down the way.   They are younger with she’s put together than him.  The darkness on them is dark as his desires. There’s no pizza.   It’s a different kind of room service.   Common to the place.   Unstoppable nature of money and sex.

Thomas looks over the girls.   His cap could cloth both of them.   They don’t know the price they will pay.   Until their bodies are in the dumpsters, they ate his problem.

“Young ladies.   I don’t see a pizza!   You selling something else.   He pays you.   I arrest all of you.  That smell is last girl who made money on her back.  Don’t let me see you out back! The dumpster sleeps enough already.” Thomas knows the hollow words echo only in his head.   The feeling of having to try dies hard.

“Maddy, maybe Officer Stiffly needs a piece too.   I bet he’s a mean fuck.”  Sylvia plays with her hair extensions.   The tips rub across her breasts to make sure everything is noticed.   She’s young but has experience in finding cash.

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Reblog – A Devilishly Detailed Map of the Most Hellish Places in America | Atlas Obscura

Hell’s half acre.  I often heard this from my farming relatives.  Now I know of 63 places known by this moniker

http://www.atlasobscura.com/articles/a-devilishly-detailed-map-of-the-most-hellish-places-in-america?utm_source=Atlas+Obscura&utm_campaign=37faf3f962-Newsletter_4_28_20164_27_2016&utm_medium=email&utm_term=0_62ba9246c0-37faf3f962-60609717&ct=t(Newsletter_4_28_20164_27_2016)&mc_cid=37faf3f962&mc_eid=4a70697cd0

Solitude

Solitude

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Photo credit : Pixabay

I revel in my solitude.
Life’s treachery is a stranger
Hollow walls beat empty friends
I know the cry in the night.
My own echoes haunt me.
It gives comfort deep inside.
I built a fort stronger than myself.
Ramparts are perilous things to behold.
I await the Trojan horse you send.
I will not open the gate.
The battering ram of emotion failed.
Catapults raining sympathy fell silent.
My castle overlooks where I want to be.
The view is stunning.
The view is stark.
The territory of solitude.
This is my kingdom.

Draft Day 

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Today is the beginning of a special annual event here.  No place on Earth would find the word celebrate as self inflicted wounds as much as the fans of the Cleveland Browns.  There was actually a fan that had in his will a request for six members of the team to lower his casket into the ground.  This way the Browns could let him down one last time.  The team agreed but the family thought otherwise.  There are people who think fans are crazy. The word is short for fanatic.  Yes, crazy is part.  So is the hope, despite all evidence of something to support it, Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny have got over what we all did as children and pony up a winning Team!
Starting in about a dozen hours, we will watch a TV show parading 20-26 year olds out for 32 teams.  The fans Good teams really don’t care as much.  Sure, it’s nice to know something about new players but the are good, and have talent.  They actually win games.  We in the shadows know the agony of defeat.  Not losing, oh no!  Defeat is inexplicable finishes of assured victory.  I’m talking aliens landing would be acceptable if our team was called for delay of game.  In one opening day game, our rookie quarterback was tackled by an American Flag that was 250 feet long!  I mean run over by it and taken to the ground.  He needed help getting out.  The poor bastard had six turnovers, the rookie head coach tackled an official (by accident) and got penalized.  It was the start of another year of 4-12 football.

But today, another new coach leads another stab at horrific potential. In 1964, the Cleveland Browns win the NFL championship. Since then that team moved. It’s owner needed bank loans to sign players. The league is run by billionaires! They moved and won 2 Super Bowls.

The best players in 16 seasons were a kicker, a kick returner, a offensive tackle and a corner back with concussion issues. So here’s to hope!

Delaying the Wedding

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Photo credit : Mary Shipman

“Ma! Pa! Dem’ Greeley boys done struck again!  My dresses are gone from the line! They took my unmentionable too!  Mamma, I can’t believe they do this.   I need ’em by 3!  Why today!  Why today!” Barbara bounces in and out in a flash.   Her long brown curls springing up and down as she moves.  

Ma looks over at Pa.  “How long do you think you can keep a hold of her? She’ll figure you out.   I’m not havin’ none of it.”

Pa looks up.  “I only have till 3. After that, we’ll see.  You want a Greeley in our house?!”

Written as part of a challenge called Friday fictioneers, https:// rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com