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.

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Farewell – Photo Challenge #180

Dear People,

My time has come. You’ve spent eons trying to understand me. I have wrote my messages in blood, white chalk, paint and tried digital for awhile. The whole was “the End is near”. With humanity it always was. Every sense of fear created conquest, war, famine and death. My saddlecloth changes and your names do, as well. In my bid adieu, I cast the last light upon the end of your path.

My nature is much that of your languages. The ability to redefine what it is the I may be. In a final attempt to reveal the truth, I appear as I should to your modern words. You may not look upon my face, lest you may remember my true name. Your time for heroics past. Like your history and adherse to the myths of belief, you will rise into the air as dust.

Farewell. My efforts to teach you the importance of tomorrow and banding together have failed. Tomorrow, finally will come. Remember how you wanted to live your last day. It’s close.

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.

life’s journeys

Week 168

1. Feign

2. Gait

3. Torn

4. Press

5. Left

6. Labyrinthine adj. complicated, torturous, resembling a labyrinth

7. Look

8. Embed

9. Malformed

10. Gritty

11. Natural

12. Dead-reckoning (In navigation, dead reckoning is the process of calculating one’s current position by using a previously determined position, or fix, and advancing that position based upon known or estimated speeds over elapsed time and course.)

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

I look upon my world. Naturally dead-reckoning has put me nowhere. My gait has deeply embedded a left turning path of malformed circles. But still I press on.

My gritty reality torn from labyrinthine puzzle that feigns living.

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.

Watched Over

“In the end, we all become stories.” Derisè whispers to her child. “Margaret Atwood told us.”

Her left hand rises.

“There was a hummingbird. He set forth on this world to let loose the seed of the rainbow papaya. His partner is transforming our place was the fox. The fox driven by his interest in funding something better than gooseberries no eat. Mr Hummingbird was much to fast to be eaten. The fox liked him for that.” Desirè looks down at her little grandson.

“Why didn’t he eat something else?” Peter looks up at his Granny. ” Foxes sneak and grab everything.”

“Peter, everyone has roles to play and rules they must follow.” Desirè laughs “Mother Earth is the water barrier. She spills life. This life picks and chooses how they will help out the world.”

“But how does she know the animals are following what they have to do?” Peter moves his hands waving at the stars emerging in the purple of twilight.

“If you ever see an eye looking at someone’s window, she is there.” her voice becomes a laugh “We are at peace when every animal follows the plan. It is we, that she watches.”

Written as part of a challenge called Collage details are available at https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2017/08/06/writing-prompt-205-special-collage/

Missing

“Did you notice a girl? She ran be this way… maybe an hour ago.” Barry looks at his diminutive counterpart.
His eyes notice the old house. Great spidling detail with cracked flakes of paint that should have been white at one time.

“Seen noone, slick. It’s not where you turn a little piece run…. loose.” Sly spits out a watermelon seed. It beautifully arches ten feet landing on the toe of brand new white shoes.
Barry kicks toe clear of seed. “Its important. She isn’t the kind to be, well here.”

“You don’t like MY neighborhood?!” Sly sits up his fill four feet. He slips a knife through the watermelon. The blade slides effortlessly. A single stream of juice bleeds across the red table. But dark tiny eyes burn against Barry’s skin.

“Dude, just looking for my girl. I never spent time here. You circus people don’t seem to like…. My people being around. I feel the looks.” Barry standing slightly slumped. His back curls and he tries not to look normal. “Seriously, if you seen her..”

“You are what, a model? Us circus people are so judgemental. What would a normal girl do here? I’d love to have, say dinner with one like her.” Sly takes a napkin and wipes his mouth. The white napkin shows of his rudy hands with yellow nails.

“Did you see her?” Barry stands tall and steps toward the porch.

“See her?! We had mystery dinner tonite. It served twelve of us. I even had room for dessert.” Sly spits out a fingernail. The silver ombre tip catches the light. “Watermelon? It’s National Watermelon Day!”

“Is that what i think it is?!” Barry shakes.

“Genius it’s a watermelon!” Sly smiles a crooked smile.