Author Archives: Dee

About Dee

I am a working wife, geek, and mother of two with opinions about just about everything which I plan to share here.

Poem Starting with a Line from Norman Dubie #2

Read Write Poem Prompt

first lines of Norman Dubie poems

His chapel fell into flowers long ago.
a holy land of milk and honey
righteous anger nearly felled them all
eyes refusing to see creation color
wandering lost on the other side of
a wall he built one brick at a time
unknowing, stiff and alone
no sin to confess makes
a cold unforgiving heart of weeds
nothing blooms like faith
or breeds tenderness like
grace extended toward good soil
he refused to reach out his hand
but the garden grew anyway
tended by others

Hide and Seek

One single Impression: Vicarious

we peek around the tree
to see who’s peeking back
and are they smiling
sitting by the window breeze
the pen the page
the writing freeze the scene
is what it is and we
are not within
but lookers only
looky look we see and write
we are not in the scene tonight
but eyes have ears
and fingers agile as the mind
allows them to be a moment
please can you repeat
I think I missed that beat
put down the pen
and come outside the sun
in shining down and warm
and you can hide behind
the tree
and I will find you peeking
out and smile
home free

Reflection

One Word: reflection

mirrored through the words
the letters hide the faces
spaces of pores that breath in and out
the life of each who holds
the glass and says
the sassy sayings we say
to keep each other far away
the words the sounds
go round and round
and each arranged
and changed, estranged
from one another now
it’s your turn make them burn
the sounds the sights
the feel of all the spins
the ins and outs
of all the people by
them, for them, in them
why then is it so hard
to say what we mean
to mean what we say
break through give to
the light the way
the day is long as
we make it
take it it was always yours
the mind is a
wonderful thing to waste
have a taste
it’s lo-cal pork belly
apple jelly sweet
it’s held out to you
but knee jerk pull back
off the rack might fit
candle lit – the light
the light, give up the fight
we all fall down
you can have mine
the crown never suited me
anyway

Once and Future

In olden times
to sing in rhymes
was honored by the kings
and queens
and harps were gifted
banners lifted
wars were lost and won
their stories sung
the mighty and the brave
the maiden and the knave
the glory stories fed
the fires of hearts and
virtues praised in golden
notes in olden days
bards sang and spells
wove vales and dells
and mountains high
the lands they loved were
all and more
and welcomed at the
feasting table royally toasted
given ring, and land and horse
even wandering, gold
in his purse
in olden times
and days gone by
the stories loved and proud
would that the stories of today
make proud to sing in
tomorrows halls
by poets, bards, and minstrels all
and not be shame
a grievous fame
penitent unsung no strings
no words eyes turned
the music gone for all until
the world can find its poets soul
a harpers thrill
until until
in olden times

I am reading Charles de Lint’s Moonheart.  New to this author but introduced in his story to Taliesin a Welsh bard in the 6th century. Urban fantasy that combines modern day Canada with almost poetic otherworld bards and mages.

Fridays Poem

One Word: Potato

fridays poem is full of grace
but saturdays a whole different animal
unwrapped and baked
the potato cake
can’t cut the mustard
custard dreams from sleeping in
the weekend deep end
drops off the cliff and
nukes the grannies
the nooks and crannies
the bacon hidden
butter me up
and I smile

Surrender

Muravian comment riff

Surrender sense
feel them most always deeper
than the head washes over, under
through shifting sand
never gave you solid footing anyway
you just thought so too
much thinking not enough drinking
sinking into what if you can’t stand
you can always float
your boat is needing a paddle
what’s the matter as a hatter
but he’s a star these days so don’t be
late or your head will feel it deeper
sense is overrated so
surrender and feel waves
wash over hold your breath
for a second for a minute
for an eternity wash it down
worn smooth the river
stone warm in the sun
veins of quartz run
through and through
glinty shiny summer rays the
days come down forever

Poem Starting with a Line from Norman Dubie

Read Write Poem prompt

beautiful line that caught my eye

Worlds are being told like beads
like strings of whirly pearly seeds
stories falling like the rain
each drop a universe contained
reflected mirrored magnified
each tiny detail visualized
by jewelers thieves of science proof
who claim to know the only truth
but if a world can thus be shown
Can it be bound by what is known
worlds light refracted by the jewels
loosed at last from silly rules
each word a world a work of art
a way of seeing from the heart

A Walk On The Beach

I had no idea where I was going with Three Word Wednesday prompts brash, lubricate, and saint until I visited here and took a walk on the beach. click.

a night at the beach what is left

toes covered in sugary sand

lubricated by coconut lotion frosting

seagulls squawk and dive

in sunglass mirrors

brash waves run up and tease

leaving bits of flotsam

angel shells

seaweed hair

siren songs

salty jetsam ain’t no saint

hips swaying

Beach Boys playing

cool breeze drives the sun down

down into the deep

just follow the moonlight trail

to the end of the world

where dawn sleeps

Between

Thursdays Tales #2

iron fingers curled
round street lamps
coat wrapped around me
fending off damp
color bled out to the gray
time suspends the gift of day
to the east
the dark approaches
western light holds
last reproaches
stand between
with outstretched hands
for one sweet second
the hourglass sands
cease their descent
my breath is postponed
nights secret hope
tomorrows unknown

Night Wings 12 Trouble

Sunday Scribbling 210: deadline

This takes place right after a meeting where we are introduced to Ryall’s father and a little back story in Night Wings part 8

After the meeting Thomas smirked at Joshua.  “You aren’t fooling me.  I know your son is one of them. You got a soft spot in your heart for them kids?”

Joshua stiffened.   “You accusing me of something?” He locked eyes with Thomas, tension in every muscle.

Thomas smiled and held his hands up. “Should I be?  All this talk about citizens just caring about their own lives.  Seems to me like you were just changing the subject.  You ever hear from that boy of yours?”

Joshua shook his head.  “Be careful Thomas.  You are coming dangerously close to crossing a line. If you had proof of anything, we wouldn’t be standing here talking.”

“You’re right. I don’t have proof of anything.  Yet.”  He turned on his heel and walked out the door of the conference room.

Once out in the hall, Thomas waved Sam Toland over.  “Hey Sam, how’s it going?  How about going for a cup a coffee?” He clapped Sam on the shoulder.

Sam  turned to Thomas, startled. “Gee Thomas, I don’t know.  My wife will have supper waiting.”

Thomas put his arm around him and pulled him along. “Just one cup and a little chat.  You’ll be home by the time the table is set.”

Thomas found them a booth in the back and ordered coffee from the waitress. “Thanks honey, now go on if you want a tip.”  He winked at her and turned back to Sam without noticing her rolling her eyes as she turned away.  “Now let me see, Oh yeah, you voted for Joshua in the last election, didn’t you?”

Sam stirred cream into his coffee.  “You know our vote is private, Thomas.  Why are you asking?”

Thomas was spooning sugar into his own cup.  He stirred and took a sip.  “I just wondered if you have noticed how Joshua never wants to discuss the “reborns” problem.”

Sam set his cup down. “I’m not sure what you’re getting at.’

Thomas leaned back against the vinyl seat. “Easy there, Sam.  I’m not getting at anything.  Just making an observation.”

Sam frowned and scratched his head. “Look, I haven’t really noticed anything and this makes me a little nervous.  Joshua has never done anything to make me doubt him.”

Thomas patted Sam’s hand with his own big paw.  “Hey, no big deal.  I was just wondering.  Just forget I said anything.  Tell you what.  You get on home to the wife and I’ll get this.  Say hello to Helen for me.”

Sam nodded and grabbed his hat and left.

Thomas left exact change for the coffee on the table and left the shop. He whistled as he strolled down the street, thinking and planning.  No use making a frontal attack when you can just plant a few seeds of doubt.  He smiled to himself.  Those kids could be useful if we could figure out ways to control them.  First step, get Joshua out of power.  No deadline here.  He could bide his time.

You can read more on the Night wings page

This weeks class was all about dialogue and using attributes and “beats”.  Fun stuff.

Tartan Festival

We spent the day in a pasture in Athens La. at the Northeast Louisiana Scottish Association Tartan Festival and here is a video of one of the bands.   The band is called Needfire and they are from Dallas.  Amazing. I could feel the didgeridoo vibrate in my chest.  We watched the fiddler completely wear out a bow.  I completely wore out my ankles tapping my feet and my hands ache from clapping.

The weather was perfect and I had a haggis plate for lunch.

My grandmother would have loved this.

I loved how in the middle of rocking things out they would all of a sudden throw Scotland The Brave on the pipes into the mix.  These guys had enough energy to power the lights in a small town.

Daughter gets credit for the photography 🙂

Also at the festival:

Alex Beaton

Smithfield Fair

Jed Marum


Exercise for Class

Assignment:

Write a single sentence that uses conflict to create suspense. It should be a situation affecting your protagonist.

Now add a sentence that starts a clock. Whether the clock is explicit or implied, it should give your protagonist a limited time to act before something happens.

Finally, add a sentence that turns the suspense into action. The action is not what happens to the protagonist; that would end the suspense. The action is what your protagonist starts to do; that continues the suspense.

The reason for using just three sentences is to show how each one serves a specific purpose in the suspense structure: conflict, clock and action.

conflict – Just before the line went dead, the voice on the phone said he would come for me after dark.

clock – The shadows grew longer and the light  changed, clear and soft the way summer evenings feel just before the sun sinks below the tree line.

action – I plodded down the cellar stairs to sit with my back against the damp wall, loaded gun in my lap.

Wolf Moon Reunion

Three Word Wednesday Deviate,Identify, Saturate

“Come in child.”

She staggered through the door.  Simon closed it behind her.

“Put him on the bed.” There was a raccoon in the corner, standing on his back legs and hissing.

Simon picked him up and gently put him outside. “Away with you now, you’ll not want to be here when that wolf wakes up.”

He lit a couple of lamps and pulled a chair up near the bed so he could examine the wolf.  Jae stood ramrod straight, arms at her sides, even though she was exhausted.  Simon carefully looked at the wound and without looking up, told Jae to sit down.

Jae stood there for a moment and then wearily, pulled another chair up to the other side of the bed.  “You don’t have to take care of me.  Just see to him.” She laid her head on the bed next to the wolfs face and stroked his muzzle.

“I don’t need two patients.  There is some bread over on the shelf. Get yourself some water and eat. I’ll to need your help and I don’t want you passing out.”

Jae’s face was burning.  Even after all this time, he could make her feel like a guilty child, with a few words. She got up and walked to the shelf and broke off a hunk of bread.  She then dipped water from a bucket into a cup and drank.  Simon moved calmly around the room mixing herbs into pastes and doing whatever it was that he always did.  He took a bowl of something over to the bed and a cloth and told her to soak the cloth in the liquid in the bowl and drip it into the wolves mouth.

“What is it?”

“Just something to keep him asleep while I take that bullet out.”

Jae took the cloth and did as Simon instructed.  “Will Aedan be okay?”

“He’s lost a lot of blood, but he’s strong. You know I’ll do my best.”  Simon worked pulled the lantern closer.  He worked quietly and once he removed the bullet he looked at Jae. “If we can keep him quiet and keep the wound from getting infected, he will heal.”

A distant howl could be heard in the silence of the house. Jae stared at the blood that saturated the blanket and started to shake.

“Go on child – get out.  He’ll be asleep for hours.”

Jae stroked Aedan’s fur and murmured something in his ear and stood.  “Thank you.”

Simon nodded and waved her off.  Jae turned and walked out to the porch.  In a few moments there was nothing left on the porch but a pile of clothes.  Jae changed and trotted away from the light of the house and then flew through the dark, her senses so acute, she could identify a rabbit that ran for its home and she smelled a deer, near by.  She was hungry and she would bring meat to Aedan who would need to eat to heal.  She chased the deer into the woods and circled around. She ran up an outcropping and hunkered down and froze, still and quiet. The rock bordered the trail on one side and on the other was thick undergrowth.

The deer was wary but stepped daintily along the path and when it was in the natural chute and couldn’t deviate from the direction it had chosen, Jae leapt and clamped her jaws on it’s throat.  It was over in minutes and when she had eaten her fill, she tore off pieces of flesh and carried them back to the house.  She ran up the steps and dropped the still warm meat on the porch, whining at the door.

Simon opened the door and light from the lanterns inside spilled out into the night.  He couldn’t help smiling at her.  “I’ll take it.  I’ve bandaged him and he’ll sleep for awhile yet.  He’s still breathing.”

Jae lowered her head once and then held it up proud, gazing up at him with golden eyes.  Simon stepped back inside, closing the door to give her privacy while she changed back and dressed hurriedly.  When she entered the house, Simon was sitting at the table, cutting the meat into bite sized pieces.

They would have to stay here for awhile.

More Wolf Moon Tales

Split Ends in Space

Sunday Scribblings: Mentor

After a three hour nap I am feeling a bit more human.  Either allergies or the East Texas crud has moved in and knocked me down.  Not my best but it has the scene elements that we were instructed to include: Goal, Conflict, Disaster, Emotion, Thought, Decision, and Action.

sorry I AM foggy – the scene elements were referring to a class I’m taking, not our Sunday Scribblings prompt 🙂

Sheila wanted a few days Earthside.   She needed a little retail therapy.   Jumping through wormholes was hell on split ends so a hair appointment was in order too.   Her boss and mentor Jonesy had other plans.  He griped about too many contracts, not enough results so a few warps later and she was hiding her transport in a dank cave next to the dunes of planet 287.  Dry and hot and no redeeming features except for the orange stones that littered the sands.  She had nearly filled her cargo hold with stones  and had gone back to the sand for one more load.  That was the last thing she remembered.

Now it was barely dawn and she was hanging upside down on the wrong side of a hostile planet.  If she had made it out the door three minutes sooner, Jonesy wouldn’t have had the chance to talk her into this crazy assignment and she would be sitting in a stylist chair right now getting highlights instead of hanging here waiting to become a snack.  This was not going to help her split ends. Sheila twisted and swung and would have yelled if she thought it would have helped.

She had three options as far as she could tell.  She could wait for the Sand Jammer to come back and try to fight her way out when he took her down for meal time. She could try to work a hand loose and get her communicator out and hope Jonesy was listening to the com unit,  or she could get herself down from here and find her way out to the dunes where her transport was hidden.

She figured she had the best chance with option three so she started to squeeze first one hand and then the other loose from the ties.  Lucky Sand Jammers weren’t very bright.   She got one hand loose and used it to hold on while she worked the other one out.  The legs were easy once the hands were loose.  The com unit was still in her pocket and she started easing around the corner as she pressed the button, hoping Jonesy wouldn’t shout.

“Jonesy, Sand Jammers!  I could use some help!” She whispered into the com, hoping he could hear.

“Do you need transport?”

“I might. Can you get a fix on my com?  I’m going to try to get back to my transport and cargo.”

“On it, Sheila.  Be careful.  Jammers are dumb as mud but mean.  You probably smell like steak and eggs to em!”

Sheila stared at the com thinking about how she would like to split Jonesy’s ends if she made it back in one piece.  She glanced around her looking for a possible weapon and saw her boots, hat, and collection bag over by the wall where the Jammers had left them.  She grabbed them up and found her stunner in the pocket of the bag.  Good timing too.  She smelled him before she saw him, pressed herself up against the wall.  He lumbered through the arch and the moment he saw her, she hit him with the stunner and down he went.  She had to climb over him to get out and the stench made her want to gag. Once over she ran and kept going.  It wasn’t completely dark and she followed the light that got brighter the closer she got to the entrance.

“Jonesy, I’m out.  Send me coordinates on my transport.”

Her screen started blinking and she threw her bag over her shoulder and ran.

One Word Humor

Everybody has to get into the act 🙂

and the word really was : humor

I love April Fools Day

if you can’t find oneword.com you can always Topeka it.  Google also had a vowel outage this morning.  🙂

Growth

Three Word Wednesday caustic hunch sacrifice

shoulders hunched
bunched with tension
no pretension
helpless heart unshielded
soft belly yielded
weighted down by caustic words
jagged shards
drawing blood, invisible flood of
pain the streams
through dreams
of future man
the sacrifice, no plan
no thought for
tomorrow’s sorrow