Utopian Green Home – Photo Challenge


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“It will be perfect!” She exclaims “Out here… We can be free. A green house with every environmental feature.”

“Imagine all laminate floors and steel beams to save the trees…. After they take out those on the middle where the house will go.” He smiles. “The dream house.. Once they tear out that horrific brown stuff growing where the sod should be.”

“Our own 3200 square foot 3 bedroom, 3 and half bath place for us two!” she looks at the full-size SUV. “And the dogs.”

“It’ll look so much better when they build the other 35 homes here. Nice manicured yards. This country life is really what we looked forward to.” he smiles back at her.

“Ouch!” she swats at a mosquito “We’ll need an exterminator! And a lawn care guy. But they have to be green.”

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Lost Days of Youth – Wordle #174

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1. turn signal
2. corrupt
3. pester
4. swain [a young lover or suitor|a country youth]
5. gibbous moon [any moon that appears more than half lighted but less than full is called a gibbous moon. The word gibbous comes from a root word that means hump-backed]
6. fen [a low and marshy or frequently flooded area of land|flat low-lying areas of eastern England, formerly marshland but largely drained for agriculture since the 17th century|wetland with alkaline, neutral, or only slightly acid peaty soil]
7. brunette
8. bombshell [an overwhelming surprise or disappointment|a very attractive woman|an artillery shell]
9. Lilliputian [trivial or very small|a trivial or very small person or thing|early 18th century: from the imaginary country of Lilliput in Swift’s Gulliver’s Travels, inhabited by people 6 inches (15 cm) high]
10. mawkish [sentimental in a feeble or sickly way|having a faint sickly flavor]
11. melodious
12. garage

I would pester her. The brunette bombshell whose melodious voice could corrupt my every thought. But like some mawkish lilliputian werewolf want-to-be, I waited upon a gibbous moon to become full and set me free.

I realize with no car in the garage, i was no more than a swain. The person driving down the road left turn signal stuck on like i had no idea when to turn. And when i did, there I was stuck in fen, knee deep in ooze.

Wordle – Night Moves

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1. bough
2. distils [*alternate spelling of distills]
3. owls
4. musk [a strong-smelling reddish-brown substance that is secreted by the male musk deer for scent-marking and is an important ingredient in perfumery| a relative of the monkey flower that was formerly cultivated for its musky perfume, which has been lost in the development of modern varieties| *late Middle English: from late Latin muscus, from Persian mušk, perhaps from Sanskrit muṣka ‘scrotum’ (because of the similarity in shape of a musk deer’s musk bag)]
5. viol [a musical instrument of the Renaissance and baroque periods, typically six-stringed, held vertically and played with a bow]
6. stained
7. swagger
8. sodden
9. strike
10. tinctured [be tinged, flavored, or imbued with a slight amount of| denoting a dye or pigment|‘imparted quality,’ likened to a tint imparted by a dye]
11. cowslip [a European primula with clusters of drooping fragrant yellow flowers in spring, growing on dry grassy banks and in pasture]
12. villain

The owls swagger within the boughs of the apple tree. Their song reminiscent of a viol. It strikes a nerve like a villain.

My nightly trek. Moonlight harvesting of cowslip for tinctured distils. Instead my sweat sodden clothes smell of cheap musk. This night stains my mind. There something unnatural about.

Tale Weaver #140 – Water

“Come in Rogers. Are you there?” The silver box speaks again

“Piece of junk! Like the damn tin can that got us stuck here!” Rogers kicks a stone and tries it again. “Yes, we are here on this damn empty rock!”

“We have a read on you finally. We show ship is down. What’s your status?” the silver box squeals out it’s song.

“We’re stuck. Phillips is taping the ship together and calling this forsaken place Terra Firma. I’m looking for that water line on the map. I don’t think it works. The valve is missing.” Rogers calms down as he stares at the valve.

“You have 2 weeks worth of water left. You should just make a pick up if you can’t activate the ship.” the silver box continues “Check for life signatures, as your mission goals.”

“Well forget that life signature you saw here. The place is dead. Dead! Just like the two of us. Get another ship here. He can’t fix nothing without parts.” Rogers snaps back.

He touches the rusting wheel. His grandpa worked the waterline on Mars. He knew he wouldn’t be the one to die of thirst here.

Wordle – Haunts of You

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1. monkey wrench
2. dust bunny
3. jejune [naive, simplistic, and superficial|(of ideas or writings) dry and uninteresting]
4. rowboat
5. goose-neck lamp
6. dementia
7. angst
8. vexatious [causing or tending to cause annoyance, frustration, or worry|denoting an action or the bringer of an action that is brought without sufficient grounds for winning, purely to cause annoyance to the defendant]
9. pernicious [having a harmful effect, especially in a gradual or subtle way]
10. mollycoddle
11. milk bottle
12. vermilion lipstick [vermilion:a brilliant red pigment made from mercury sulfide (cinnabar)]

My vexatious glances lock on that vermilion lipstick stained milk bottle. The effect of dementia or angst… i know not. I’m drunk on pernicious ideals life is fair.

“Mollycoddle, your word to label me” I yell at shadows cast from the gooseneck lamp.

I see monkey wrenches you laid into my plans. Row boats beached on distant shores. They mix in their darkness with the dim light. A dust bunny becomes a dragon. More jejune debris from brief in humans.

dead reckoning – Wordle

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 – Wordle

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

Photo Challenged 177- Clancy’s Ghost

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/

Through a Keyhole

Week 169

1. Fell

2. Grin

3. Local

4. Naive

5. Touch

6. Fata Organa n. a flash of real emotion glimpsed in someone sitting across the room, idly locked in the middle of some group conversation, their eyes glinting with vulnerability or quiet anticipation or cosmic boredom—as if you could see backstage through a gap in the curtains, watching stagehands holding their ropes at the ready, actors in costume mouthing their lines, fragments of bizarre sets waiting for some other production.

7. Imbibe

8. Oppurtunity

9. Malleable

10. Keyhole

11. Trammel

12. Hindsight

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

A gaze through a keyhole. Naive in hindsight, but grinning at the opportunity to imbide in fata organa. People malleable in trying to touch others appear to fell short everytime.

Somewhere – Stories by 5

Zephira draws up her mandolin. A few gentle strums of its strings lets loose the amora of fall leaves and vanilla. Her head lowers beyond sight. The air rushes by suddenly perishing dreams of Summer. Her words turn staccato like piano notes. I resist with all my might.

A distant cello joins in with her melody. The world bends to her. Maybe tomorrow, I’ll slip back to where I belong. The world is so small within the looking glass.