Future Pasts Complimentary Po.em

Days of reckoning, days of glory?

Finish lines in moving sand

Vaulting into hyperspace

Passing future pasts 

Foot race to reason

Across ribbon candy fantasy land

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

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

Do You Remember? 

Do you remember 

when thought was evereverything 

We danced among fire

Never wanting to burn

We hoped for dreams

drama was not needed

Air was for breathing 

not to fill a pause.

Tomorrow’s allure

beat Yesterday’s issues.

We were caught between

What should be done 

And what I want

We wandered into the dessert 

We cast aside our second hand dreams

Embracing the hollowness of maybe 

We whisper ‘it’s better’ to each other 

We blind our eyes 

We still our hearts 

The Sun is darker

The night grows cold 

But my feelings yearn 

Return to those days 

Do you remember?

How did we ever forget?

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

Happy Earth Day 

I grew near a river that once burned a dozen times.  I have seen orange horizons hours from sunrise or sunset.  Places in woods and desert where trials were filed with debris.  We have only one place to live for now.   What view should the next generations have? 

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;