Sweet as Nectarines – Wordle

Week 157.png

1. Blood

2. Despair

3. Woman

4. Seek

5. Seclusion

6. Willowy (adj.) Lithe, graceful, slender)

7. Beaten

8. Aware

9. Nectarine

10. Scaffold

11. Wolf

12. Mimeomia ((n.) the frustration of knowing how easily you fit into a stereotype, even if you never intended to, even if it’s unfair, even if everyone else feels the same way—each of us trick-or-treating for money and respect and attention, wearing a safe and predictable costume because we’re tired of answering the question, “What are you supposed to be?”)

Use at least 10 of the words to create a story or poem

The words can appear in an alternate form

Use the words in any order that you like.

Tag: Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie and Wordle

Moon beaten, a willow woman leaves her seclusion. Inside her blood beaten by despair induces a walk to the scaffold. Self aware of the will es surrounding her.  They see her mimeomia as sweet as nectarines.

Writtenas part of a challenge called Wordle, detailsavailable at https://wordpress.com/read/feeds/19271780/posts/1475648297

Time Shadows

Time left me still 

Details have subtly faded 

The cold light of then, now shines

Like rid yourself of ghosts 

What if it’s you there’s no belief in

Memories are gilded cages 

Feelings cling Like cobwebs 

Their sticky threads still have teeth 

To purge the light is the only cure 

Creating shadows that obscure sundials 

Time uses distance against me 

I’m robbed of judgement 

Memories fill feelings into missing parts

Was the you, you back then? 

Or has me changed whom I was too?

Postcard – FFAW

I stand at the roadside. 

The sea slides so softly against the sand.  Bisbee Bay, a mecca of gentle summer days that last forever.  Whose touch on the memory vanish like morning dew. 

I state into a postcard.

Gone are the floats of plastic trash.  No Styrofoam cups or grocery bags. The place is smaller now.  My eyes aren’t the same.  The smell is different.  The people aren’t families.  Their faces carry weight of misery.
I get back in my car. Going back is not always a good idea.

Written as part ofa challenge called Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writersttps://flashfictionforaspiringwriters.wordpress.com/2017/05/22/fffaw-challenge-week-of-may-23-2017/

Demeter’s Tears ComplimentaryPo.em

While orange taloms of dawn scratch at fading moonscape

Demeter’s tears fall like shooting stars

Each droplet a new life founded 

Each droplet new visions seen

Widening landscape of inherrent possibilities 

Probability washes among rainbow beaches

Another commentary po.em from  Lorraine and myself.  Her words are italicIzed.  More of her words are located at http://myfrillyfreudianslip.wordpress.com and http://25wordsmoreorless.wordpress.com

Inside Thoughts

I wantto take your breath away.

I watchyou move completely 

My mind locked on every part

My eyes flash to keep up

Your body converts to road map

Some curves are far more dangerous 

At least in my view from here

You’re an addiction wanting to hook me

I linger on thoughts of being emerged

What If – Encounters

I poke at the fire. Deep red and orange embers spit flames skyward.  As the flames grow thinner, the realization of more wood needs found. 

“Damn it! I should have did this before it got dark.” I see my heat source dwindling before my eyes.  

Dawn is several hours away.  My camp hid well with a pine grove.  I must venture forth to where the wild things roam.  My way guided by the worst flashlight ever and the pale glow of Eris. 

The Moon has long turned in for the night. The false silver light of Moon2 as it was called during its building.  Mankind’s solution to energy build a second Moon.  The crazy light show on its surface was beautiful until they told us it was pieces breaking off and streaming back to Earth.

My third spark has sailed overhead.  They tell us it’s just normal. No one has ever been hit by one of these pieces.  

“Who the hell would know I was hit it here?” I keep eyes open for anything out here.   We used to worry about coyotes and bears.  

This is the last crumb of avoiding civilization. The government will covert this to receiving station for that damn Eris. The greater good.  So we at told.

I leave my little corner for an arm full of wood.  Just enough to keep warm.  Just enough to give me the peace of wilderness. The woods have been cleaned of anything bigger than a twig. 

A light flashes in green behind me. A wave of heat. A sound like an exploding building.  My legs feel the ground shudder.

My vantage point is sparse trees in an island against open darkness.  I can see light from something below a ridge I was unaware of before.  Mechanical sounds whirl.  Static and broke words burst forth. None are clear.  I search for a path to get me closer.

A lonely motor winds.  I hear treads click and blacking. Voices rise but never clear the commotion. 

I walk through scrub oaks. I snap an occasional branch. I was walking by rolling feet to not annouce my presence.  A half mile hike takes less time when you stop breathing from fear of being heard.

“Billy!  The cage.  We need the cage out here now! They’re coming in from North in 130 seconds.” The deep voice crawls through the still night. 

My eyes reach the edge.   A pit that collapsed to reveal gated under ground.  Two cages ten feet tall with twice the length and width gleem in low light.  In one corner, a small grey man tends to something inside. 

A green glow blinds me. Whispers of wind spill on to me.  

“They’re real! Oh shit….They are real!” I try to stay quiet.  The scaly hand on my shoulder tells me I wasn’t quiet enough. 

“Billy! We got a peeper!” The thing attached yells out.

The small grey man looks up suddenly. He walks over to see my body hanging in the air.  His tall friend keeping me off the ground by hanging me like a towel.

“Put him on with the others. We need to get these humans off our planet.  I told you they hid like rats. They know it’s illegal but they still come out here.”

https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2017/05/11/tale-weaver-119-what-if-11-05-17/

Memory Lane

“Hmm…” I fumble with a CD case with more scratches than clear plastic and no liner to tell what’s inside.  The yellow CD is as worn… no clues to mark it’s past. 

“I guess we’ll have to try it out.” I talk to myself as I work through assorted stuff. Somehow keeping it means something. Bread crumbs to a past.

“Hey listen,  don’t let ’em get your mind” screaming guitars blast between they pause “Fill your brain with orders… that’s not right! They’re playing a game that draws you closer.” more guitars “Until you’re living in a world ruled by fear” 

The voice is raw.  But I know this.  I pulls at the corners in my mind.  I  know every word, every guitar riff. Drums echo in my mind before they crash. My head instinctively moves forward and back. 

“Wow, don’t hurt yourself old man!” A young voice laughs. 

I look to my left.  Skinny young kid looks back.   Loner hair than mine with less forehead showing.  His easy smile is slightly unnerving yet disarming at the same time. I know him.  I’ve seem that face before.   I struggle to name him.  

“Hey, this is mine.” I wave an empty unlabeled CD case. I’m half joking and half defiant. 

“I listened to this well before you were aaarrouund.” My voice stops slowly.  I remember things. 

“What ever you say. You know it’s only been out for a month.  The video, six weeks.” His face shows the same puzzlement of who I am that I have for him. “I didn’t know people your age listened to this kind of music.”

That did it.  I catch up with the music.  and lunge at him “Scccccrrreeeaaming  screaming for vengeance!  The world is defiled in disgrace.”

Time stops. Lunging was a bad idea.  Hitting notes that high…didn’t work either. Still I hold my ground. 

His eyes go wide.  His half step back is a win for me. Fooling oneself is difficult sometimes. I know him.  I was him. 

“You seen the video! He ticks and forth then jumps on the drum beat. Wow, I’ve been trying that.  I have practice late I’m supposed to surprise Riley and Jimmie with that.” He pauses. “Now that I see you do that…. I’m not sure it’s such a good idea.  You looked like s fish jumping out of water, Dude.”

“You’re younger.  Jump, plant and then scream. Gilbert will freak out.  He always thinks unexpected shit is cool.” I’m locked into a time 30 years ago. “Nadine, wow, mood watch out for her!  She is going to do somethings to you….”

I stop.  Dear God, he had no idea.  Hell, did I even know Riley’s real name before his mom Nadine… And the spandex tiger pants.  That’s when I find out her name.  She was fitting me for those pants alright. I can still see her… The difference between a 16 year old and a 36 year old was like finding a new planet to explore. 

“Dude, who the hell is Gilbert? I don’t know how you think that this ‘jump, plant and scream’ will help me.  This is too weird.” Je looks back at me. His mind sees who I must be. That didn’t help either. 

“Remember it doesn’t last long.  Enjoy the moments as they happen.  Yoy won’t believe the things ahead of you.” I reach out toward him. “But make sure you sing ‘You got another thing coming’ first.  Trust me. You’ll thank me in another 30 years.”

I reach his hand it fades. 

“Is Nadine his mom?” the young voice hangs but doesn’t hear any response from me.

I had no idea how lucky I was at the time. 

Italized words are lyrics from ‘Screaming  for Venegeance’ by Judas Priest

If you dare the link to the live video

Photo Challenge -Tea leaves

I bask in her warmth.  My mind holds those moments that are special because they are our moments.   There is a certain calmness that stills my heart.  

The night drifts by.  Time is a ceiling fan counting by whoosh sounds.   Light stays at bay. 

My dreams morph.   Subtly I’m drawn away.  Her face warn and kind grows.   Her smile looks more relaxed.  I twist to better see whay keeps me whole.

The warmth returns. Strange white shiny walls curve up from below. I feel like am burning.  Parts of me break free and float off.  Her smile twists more profound.  

Being someone cup of tea is not always good

Wordle – Scrawny Thoughts

Week 154

1. Pile

2. Smart

3. Pâro ((n.) the feeling that no matter what you do is always somehow wrong—that any attempt to make your way comfortably through the world will only end up crossing some invisible taboo—as if there’s some obvious way forward that everybody else can see but you, each of them leaning back in their chair and calling out helpfully, colder, colder, colder.)

4. Vicarious

5. Mash

6. Nasal

7. Disagree

8. Witch

9. Shed

10. Primitive

11. Wedge

12. Scrawny

Use at least 10 of the words to create a story or poem

The words can appear in an alternate form

Use the words in any order that you like.

Tag: Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie and Wordle

My thoughts a vicarious pile of disagreeable cash.  There’s a witch called Pâro. My head smarts from the primitive wedge pushed into my nasal cavity. The shed were scrawny thoughts of unproven wait to be spoiled in front of everyone. 

https://wordpress.com/read/feeds/19271780/posts/1449968851