Strangers Waiting for the Plane 

“My friend, we will be here awhile.”  A voice travels to my ear.

I have no friends here.   I’m in lay-over purgatory.  I turn to see a bright smiling face.   A rather Foriegn face but charming British accent. 

“I’m sorry… I was starting at people and didn’t realize who you were talking to.  They told me four hours ago, this flight is the most timely they run.   Travel is hell.” I try to figure the nice man out.  

We simply don’t act this way at home.  My God, he could be a terrorist, or a religious nut, or run a foreign money scam.   The news of full of these types in other countries. 

“Travel is like a present.   You think you know what will be inside.   Then like a flower it opens… simply amazing what happens.   We seldom believe what we know not.” His hands gesture something popping up out of box.   I hate to fly alone. You seem much better than most here.  Calm to the outside.  At least.”

I turn to catalog his features. Dark eyes,  softly set amongst richly tan skin.   Dark hair well controlled at ear length with a bushy mustache.  His crisp cotton shirt  almost glows white.  He has one small carry on bag.  

“I returning from finding a brother who thinks the world is a grand adventure.  He found simple things aren’t simple in other places. I’ll be the first to tell him how wrong he is…” My voice falters.   Why am I telling a stranger this?

“He is good to have you.  Someone to go when he needs. I have to deliver things to family.   I’m the only one who has the time.” His dark eyes lock into me. “I will find other things.  Make this a real trip for me.”

“Oh.  You been to the States before?” My mind erupts.  A real live terrorist.   There’s a bomb not even five feet away from me.

“No. The place scares me.  Kilometers to travel.  We do not drive like that.   But must see something.  When I deliver this, I am then free. Free to travel.” His smile is truly a master weapon. 

I freeze.   What dies one say you a mad killer. 

“Where are you going?  I have traveled a bit.” I fake friendliness.   My eyes look for security personnel.   

“You are tense all of a sudden.   I will be in Seattle.  We are on the same flight.  I didn’t mean to…. cause you any discomfort.  Strangers sometimes want their space.”  He smiles that damn friendly smile. 

“I’m sorry.   I’m a bit tired.   Didn’t mean to push you away. ”  My lies get deeper.  

He sits foward and speaks  “I’ll return.”

I watch him walk over to a security person bag in tow.  They smile and talk.   The smiles disappear. They both look my way. 

I’m no terrorist! 
Written as part of a challenge called Tale Weaver https://wordpress.com/read/feeds/19271780/posts/1436456071

Drifting Away 

I watch you drift 

Each passage leads you further 

You never look back 

Currents toy with your ambition

Eddies await to swirl your direction

On shore, any hope floats past you

Your empty hands only reach from afar 

Past the length of any arm 

Tomorrow you will out out again 

The tides await your efforts 

Again I’ll watch to see if you return 

We dance until the chord breaks 

The waves drowned the sound 

Until the horizon welcomes you 

 I’ll still be on the shore 

Waiting to see where you’ll go

Tea for Two

“I don’t get it?! She up in left.” Marty’s hand shakes the phone. “We just got here. i took her to Reading the Tea Leaves, just like you said. Seriously, Darla what kind of freak did you set me up with?”

The phone starts quiet for too long.  

“Ok, she loves the place.  What else happened? She goes there every week. What did you say?  or do?” Darla half asks 

“We ordered and say down.   I put down the little table flag with 19 on it….” Marty doesn’t get to finish.

“Nonadecaphobia. I should have told you. Sorry, she doesn’t do well with signs.   You know how it is.” Darla explains. 

“No. No, I don’t.” Marty hangs up

End of the Road 

A knock on the door.  Followed by six more.   Staccato wraps follow the first soft touch.  A solitary light shone in a living room. 

The full moon rises.   It lights the last house on the pavement.   The road falls to gravel and disappears into the woods.  The woods reaches around the simple house and its barn.  The white glow of the moon paints it better in the night than the Sun.  The door hides within a small porch, shrunk by the boxes and tables stacked around. 

The hand rises again.  The knocks continue six at a time.  Staccato beats. 

“Hang on baby! hang on…. We’ll get you help.” Brian looks down.   A face looks back.

“No one will open the door… it’s too late they’ll never open the door.” Connie voice fades.   Her jeans covered in blood.   The yellow t-shirt dirt covered and suddenly wore out. “It’s cold.  Maybe there’s blanket in this stuff.   Maybe morning…”

“I see someone.  They are in there.   They’ll help us.” Brian wipes his head.  A streak of blood runs down fron his forehead.  His face shows he doesn’t think help is coming. 

Brian returns to the door.  A series of knocks continues.   Each becoming a little more panic stricken. “Hello?! We need help.   Just call the police…  anything! Please!”

Connie is on the wooden porch. She is sitting against soft boxes that lean over toward her a bit.  She’s scared but holding on a brave front. “Sit next to me.  The morning.. They’ll see us.”

Shuffling sounds inside stop her.   The dragging and stopping catch their attention.  The door had three little boxes that show how dark the inside is but little else.   

“If you open that door, I’ll kill you both. Shotgun is in my hands.” The voice followed by a tapping on the other side of the door. “You live to see tomorrow…. I’ll habe to deal with Y’all then.   Stop banging or you’ll wake up the Dead!”

The shuffling starts again.   This time fading away.   The single light flashes out.   

The Moon –

I run.  A staggered path weaves between rock, trees and cactus.  My enemy is above.  I feel the eyes scanning the landscape. 

“Shadows are my friend.” I whisper to my fellow creatures of the night. “I will sleep on safety beneath your own nose!”

I want to laugh.  But sound travels to easily here.  Its bad enough I see my quarry.  But it’s myself dug in the hole hunted.   He can’t get what he can’t see.   The plan is working so far.

The clouds thin.  Moonbeams stretch out.  Rays of silver like nails in my coffin.  I hide with my back finding an uncomfortable Saguaro.  I watch the light chase the darkness.   Hope is a thin shadow.

My pulse rises to match a deep thumping heart.  If heartbeats slow maybe I can breath.  But for how long?

I turn my head to look.  

His face smiles back.  An oblivious look or game over expression.  If I could hear him.  I hate the distance between us.  Only in moving do I get to find out who wins this night.

“I would stab at you.  You hide too far away.” I look away from him. “There has always been a man within the Moon.  He stalks us all.   He had always been death. He will always be death.  Tonight, better be someone else’s turn.”

I curl into a ball and wait. 

Written as part of a challenge called Tale Weaver, details available  at https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2017/04/20/tale-weaver-116-the-moon/

You’ll Fry

“You’ll fry!” Burger shrilly screams. 

The crowd jeers.  Frantic spectators mix anxiety and anticipation.  

Sizzles and pops fill the air as the burning starts.  Trapped in a basket as the world goes black. 

These are the final moments of a French fry 
<a href=”https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/fry/”>Fry</a&gt;

Opaque Window of the Soul 


Your intentions are clear 

Why do we dance around them?

Like a broke compass pointing away 

I see the working within better 

Than I see the person you present

Toying and teasing worked years ago 

Long past the point of hoping anymore 

In your mind, justification wins 

In your heart, distance breaks even 

Lost individual adrift on unseen waves 

Tides come and go beneath your world 

Yet you spiral around blaming the rocks 

You merely stayed in the same place 

Everything else surely moved

The opaque window of your 

Colors us to your disliking

One day you’ll open it and see


<a href="https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/opaque/">Opaque</a>

Wordle – Fuzzy Thought 


1. Cloud

2. Crumble

3. Flight
4. Ambedo ((n.) a kind of melancholic trance in which you become completely absorbed in vivid sensory details—raindrops skittering down a window, tall trees leaning in the wind, clouds of cream swirling in your coffee—which leads to a dawning awareness of the haunting fragility of life.)
5. Blackberry
6. Dazzle
7. Switch
8. Tide
9. Care
10. Voracious
11. Eminent ((adj.) high in station, rank, or repute; prominent; distinguished: conspicuous, signal, or noteworthy: lofty; high: prominent; projecting; protruding.)
12. Misbehave
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 clouded mind crumbles.  Tides of care take flight and dazzle my ambedo mood. Voracious blackberries take eminent roles.  They misbehave in whispers leading me from my troubles.

Dear Death 


We spend our time hiding 

From what, do we ever know? 

Shadows tugging at our heels 

Or a scythe swinging unseen

Some hide from possible life 

The taker of last breathes 

You will run to catch me 

I’ll not go quietly into the night 

Good or bad, Dawn will be waiting

Look not for me Death 

I’ll return the favor

https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2017/04/16/writing-prompt-203-letters-to-death/

Ooh death
Whooooah death
Won’t you spare me over ‘til a another year?

Well what is this that I cant see 
With ice cold hands taking hold of me

Well I am death none can excel 
I’ll open the door to heaven or hell
Whoa death someone would pray 
Could you wait to call me another day

Ralph Stanley,  “Oh Death”

https://g.co/kgs/eKvdUs


Kindred Spirits – Commentary Po.em

Free to explore each other’s 

Kindred  spirits left unbound

Tastes desire longing to run

Full frontal onslaught, eyes wide

Stolen moments lost in amazement

Touching of souls; touching of faces



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