I know your scent
The silhouette you cast
Every curve and smile
You walk paths through me
When do we meet?
Memorize
posted originally to http://project21words.wordpress.com
I know your scent
The silhouette you cast
Every curve and smile
You walk paths through me
When do we meet?
Memorize
posted originally to http://project21words.wordpress.com
Cold fingers slowly squeezing
Breath of life from within
Desire for everything deserved
Acceptance never an option
Insatiable want steeps the soul
There are no cures fittingly
They wouldn’t be good enough
Or plentiful in the nice things
Cast by insecurity within wax
The hollow shell, all that remains
A life lived by envy and greed
if only being human was enough
“Clearly, you can see it is a cycle of killing. The arrows are death at their own hands as they bowed and surrendered more and more to the white man.” Jenny looks at her Grandfather.
“Honey, it wasn’t that simple. Half the tribes used us to get rid of their rivals. We took land they weren’t using and set up farms and cities.” Grandpa points at the ring with his cane “This is a bone colored ring with a couple of arrows and blood. Hell, you could make something better with some paste and paper.”
“Grandpa! He is a world renowned artist. They brought this here to commemorate the opening of Indian Hills at Columbus Circle. It’s a real piece of art.” Jenny looks at Grandpa like she has seen a holy relic
“It’s a piece of work, all right! But you’re shopping at a place named for the guy who ended the Indians way of life.” Grandpa looks around at the glass enclosures and brightly colored banners. “Yep! Those Indians sure would like all this spread out here.”
178 words
Written as part of a challenge called Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers, details are available at
dead reckoning: to find yourself bothered by someone’s death more than you would have expected, as if you assumed they would always be part of the landscape, like a lighthouse you could pass by for years until the night it suddenly goes dark, leaving you with one less landmark to navigate by—still able to find your bearings, but feeling all that much more
My life in walls
Always looking to patch
Finding something to hang
The walls separate rooms
Those keeps of secrets
Those keeps of lost ones
Ear to the door
Voices ring hollow
Trapped in past
I hear a moment
Clear, faces come forward
Soft images built on memory
Suddenly, they are there
Like they never left me
Short sided view steeps
It was me that left them
To dwell in netherworld
I reassure myself
it keeps them alive
dead reckoning: to find yourself bothered by someone’s death more than you would have expected, as if you assumed they would always be part of the landscape, like a lighthouse you could pass by for years until the night it suddenly goes dark, leaving you with one less landmark to navigate by—still able to find your bearings, but feeling all that much more
My life in walls
Always looking to patch
Finding something to hang
The walls separate rooms
Those keeps of secrets
Those keeps of lost ones
Ear to the door
Voices ring hollow
Trapped in past
I hear a moment
Clear, faces come forward
Soft images built on memory
Suddenly, they are there
Like they never left me
Short sided view steeps
It was me that left them
To dwell in netherworld
I reassure myself
it keeps them alive
His eyes walked up and down then side to side across the velvet dress. Her face wrapped in a scarf of blue clouds. Still he knew. His troubled mind knew. His nose wrestled to keep the scent from being taken in. His ears could create her voice in the wind. Her presence was’ll disconcerting at best.
“Not all dreams are created equal. You can not ignore men as I am no more than what you made me.” A coarse soft whisper rasps Clancy’s ears.
“Go away! Go away! You’re not real!” Clancy spins in his dark room. Eyes wide searching for her shape. Nerves taut. Chill of icy fingers brushing softly against his back.
“You can’t refuse me. Ha ha, silly Clancy” he voice climbs as falls in laughter of a child. “I’m your every embodied desire and want. You built me in those likenesses you could not possess. My touch is all you’ll care to know. You made me from your cold indifference then added desire.”
“You’re just a nightmare! No, no…..no more. No, no … no less. A bad dream. Charlotte! Be gone!” A frail silhouette waves at the darkness.
“Years that fall through cracks in days fashioned us. You call me by a name.” She reveals her face with the features of all his loves unknown.
Another night in which our monsters return. Clancy’s ghost settles into his mind for another night.
Written as part of a challenge called Photo Challenge, details are available at https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2017/08/22/photo-challenge-177/
“Hello, good sir! Have any troubles to remedy yourself of?” Elijah’s almond face lights up like a child’s discovering a new toy. “Write your troubles down. Ask for a direction! Divine winds will take your troubles and bring your mind the key to free yourself.”
Patrolman O’Niel doesn’t smile back. Just stares into Elijah. “No street churches either. Get your things and get’em outta here.”
“Try it, you’ll feel better about yourself and the world. My boss is kinda happy to see good.” Elijah points upward.
“My boss says give you a ticket,if a warning work.” Patrolman O’Neill reaches for his ticket pad and furrows deep ridges on his forehead. “Here, you just cone next Tuesday and explain this to a judge.”
Elijah smiles and takes a deep breath. He walks to the closest pyre and throws the ticket in it the smoldering ash. “My troubles are set free.”
“That’s not going to help you!” Patrolman O’Neill yells “No-one burns my summons! Why I oughtta!”
Behind Elijah an ashen dove flies out of the pyre.
188 words
Wrtten as part of a challenge called flash fiction for aspiring writers, details available at https://flashfictionforaspiringwriters.wordpress.com/2017/08/21/fffaw-challenge-week-of-august-22-2017/
Heart beats into my eardrums
Stray thoughts loose and running
Fruitless pursuits dream
Upon unseen mountains
My thoughts echo
Pulled within illusions
Places only fools trust
My soul seeks peace
Reflection against the world
Chasms fill with echoes
Voices writing lyrics
Waves of comfort spill
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An onion has many layers. So have I!
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Fiction Writing
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A dose of fetish. Good friends. An incomparable muse.
I want to sing like the birds sing, not worrying about who hears or what they think.
My view of this wonderful and crazy life - as I travel and explore.
A different kind of beautiful
An Introvert's "Ice Cream Social"
We are freaks. Society dejects us...so we find solace in things that don't exist...
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Boston's Best Sports Blog Since 2017
photos and thoughts for sharing
Karin Ravasio nature photography, motivation, products
HOPELESSLY ROMANTIC
An onion has many layers. So have I!
Views on Football from the Front Row
Life is simple... So take notes
Never get lost in the Sauce
Fiction Writing
my writing junkyard
A dose of fetish. Good friends. An incomparable muse.
I want to sing like the birds sing, not worrying about who hears or what they think.
My view of this wonderful and crazy life - as I travel and explore.
A different kind of beautiful
An Introvert's "Ice Cream Social"
We are freaks. Society dejects us...so we find solace in things that don't exist...
Live your life in style!