Flight

Creative Copy challenge 189

1.    Shy
2.    Ground
3.    Luck
4.    Treat
5.    Touch
6.    Face
7.    Desire
8.    Need
9.    Urgent
10.    Done

I was angry.  I wanted them out of my head.  I didn’t ask for this and I was damned if I was going to just roll over and do what they wanted.  I ran across the frozen ground, down through the ravine to Simons’ house.  He had the touch. He could help me.  He would know what needed to be done, how to treat this thing.
I slipped on the icy rocks. This urgent desire for answers was making me careless. Even a wolf can run out of luck up here.
“Jae, wait!” I could hear him in my mind but I ignor him.  He thought I was just shy.  Shy!  After what the rogue did to me!  I would face them down. Every last one of them. I wanted my family back.  I wanted my life back!  I could see a glow.  Simon would have a fire going on this cold night and I needed to be behind closed doors in front of that fire before Aedan caught up with me.

What To Do With a Sick Collie

Creative copy Challenge 188

 

If he has the collywobbles
and he hobbles after rabbits
chasing silly pretty baubles
you should never feed him holly
tea from kat is a bad habit

if he slowly coughs up furballs
like a silly willy kitty cat
and tries to wear a turtle
for a winter doggie hat
then the cure will just be slower
you can bet the hat on that

  1. Collywobbles
  2. Collie
  3. Wobbles
  4. Holly
  5. Slow
  6. Slower
  7. Turtle
  8. Rabbit 
  9. Cat
  10. Kat

riffing off Vivien Shipley with a little Dr. Seuss thrown in.

Afloat

I envy those
who plan and walk
with measured steps
and measured speech
at peace with their lives

would that I could
slow the heart
move with purpose
and grace
stop making noise

instead
I flail like a clumsy child
learning to paddle
in the shallows
going nowhere fast

just trying to stay afloat

inspired by “I am deliberate and afraid of nothing.”  Audre Lorde

Water and Electricity

I shall wonder tomorrow
what happened yesterday
I won’t remember the answer
to the question I didn’t ask
it’s hurricane season in my mind
and who knows where
that will make landfall
these things are hard to predict
you know
there are traps hidden in
deep water
so I try to stay on the edges
but sometimes time
washes over me
in waves of contusions
and sandy abrasions
I need a commercial break
from worrying at the ache
at the bones of the river washed
conversations rehashed
words lashed out and sparking
no parking in the red zone
in case of a fire
like negative and positive
we keep dancing around it
never making contact
iron filings arrayed in
magnetic patterns sashayed
in and out and around
but never ever touching

Wolf Moon Cave

Written for Creative Copy Challenge 187

  1. Erroneous
  2. Advent – a coming into place, view, or being; arrival: the advent of the holiday season.
  3. Innocuous – not harmful or injurious; harmless
  4. Decisions 
  5. Virility
  6. Catacombs – an underground cemetery, especially one consisting of tunnels and rooms with recesses dug out for coffins and tombs.
  7. Weathering
  8. Placate – to appease or pacify, especially by concessions or conciliatory gestures
  9. Catatonic – a syndrome characterized by muscular rigidity and mental stupor
  10. Gelatinous

Jae ran through the catacombs making decisions on twists and turns based on memories.  She had lived here in human form before she met Aedan.  Weathering the change from the forest to this place had made them both nearly catatonic. She missed the woods and the smell of snow on mountains. With the advent of Lucia’s reign, they were no longer safe.

Jae heard Aedan in her head. “Hmmmph, I could have kept up just fine in human form!”

Jae sped into a tunnel on the left. “Relax, your virility was never in question.  I knew you would follow my scent and we would make better time.”

“Are we getting close?” Aedan made one erroneous step and slid through something gelatinous. “What the??”

“These are tombs, Aedan.”  The stench assaulted her delicate nose.

She could hear faint growls ahead. “Almost there.” She hoped that would placate him.  She heard a crunching noise behind her and turned to look. Aedan had disappeared.  Jae skidded to a stop and carefully retraced her steps. She heard Aedan whine. She looked over the edge of a jagged hole. Rotten dirt covered boards had given way as Aedan crossed.

“Aedan!”  The wolf moaned.

“Aedan don’t change.  Hold on, I’ll get help!”  Jae took off down the tunnel toward the barking sounds.  After a series of barks the pack followed her back to where Aedan lay, now very still.

“Aedan, I’m coming!”  All around the tunnel sounds echoed as the fur disappeared and flesh and bone remolded itself.  Jae had always been able to change quickly and she was the first to assume human form.  She looked around and one of the pack ran up with rope in his mouth.  She tied it around her waist as the last wolf changed.  The walls were not smooth. She could see dark places that looked like side caverns.  Ryall took hold of the rope and nodded at her as he passed the rest of the rope behind him.  Anchored by the rest of the pack, Jae started the climb down to Aedan.  He was whining again and Jae hoped that meant his wolf form was helping to heal.

Safely at the bottom of the passage, Jae knelt next to the wolf.  She felt for breaks and was relieved to find none. She stroked his fur.  “Aedan, come on. We made it!”  Aedan opened his eyes and nosed her hand.

“Can you stand?”  Jae moved away a little.  Aedan struggled to his feet, whining.

“Is he okay?” Ryall and the rest of the pack looked down at them. Jae nodded her head and then realized it was probably too dark for them to see her.

“I think so but I’m not sure I can get him back up.  We’ll try one of the side passages down here and find you.”

Ryall tossed a sack down to her.

“Thanks Ryall!  Thanks all of you!  Wait in the hall and we’ll meet you later! ” Jae found a torch in the sack along with an apple and a freshly killed rabbit.  Ryall knew Aedan would need to eat. Healing took a lot of energy. The apple was for her. She put the rabbit down in front of Aedan and sat down by the wall to eat her apple.  Glancing around, she wondered why they had never found this place when she was here with her family.  Remembering her family made her sad.  Aedan made quick work of the rabbit and Jae brushed herself off.

“Ready?”  Jae nodded her head at the side cavern and Aedan started walking. Jae took a last thoughtful look. It seemed innocuous but she shivered anyway. She knew from experience that death lurked in more than the ancient coffins. She wished she could see the moon.

Feathers

Creative Copy Challenge 186

  1. Happy 
  2. High
  3. Sunny
  4. Blue
  5. Feathers
  6. Horns
  7. Diamonds
  8. Grass 
  9. Fire
  10. Stars

 

Happiness is as light

and fleeting as feathers

in the wind

beautiful and hard to hold

as bright stars

too high to reach

but we try anyway…
We are on fire

strive for diamonds

find them perched

on sharp horns

that cut us leaving us

skewered and bleeding

in the grass

staring at the blue sky
watching hope float by

Here I Would Sit

 

from here the grass
a soft quilt of warmth
for the earth wrapped
around clay knees
holding the skin
of a planet together

if I lay on my belly
look closely each spike
the quilt unravels
millions of pieces
growing so close
with one purpose
fed by the body
pointing to a bright sky
bearing the seeds
of a new generation
bearing witness

a tree dances in sea wind
arms akimbo
hearing a song
melody of breath
with the rhythm
of seasons spinning
out a tale of moon
and sun and wisdom
rooted deep in rings
of joyful abandon
loving the air

waiting as it has always waited
the sea sits beyond
beyond the edge of the grass
beyond the reach of the tree
cupped in muddy hands
overflowing with the
memories of creation
that give birth to the rain
that feeds the grass
that holds the earth
that cradles the tree

Here I would sit

The Soucouyant

Written for Creative Copy Challenge 185 Loquacious, Sedentary,  Artistic, Voracious, Fluorescent, Rad, Delicious, Rotund, Decapitate, Slimy

and thanks to Wordnik – Word of the day – Soucouyant!

 

Henry thought the party tiresome. Being stuck in a corner with a loquacious youth who seemed to think “rad” was an actual word, was not his idea of a good time.

“These little crackers are rad!”

“Isn’t the Dean’s home rad?”

I should have wacked her with my cane.

He only accepted the invitation because he had heard that the Dean of the university had quite an artistic flare and stories of the beautifully decorated home and delicious fare had been spoken of in awed tones at his gentleman’s club. Henry had lived a sedentary life and was a bit on the rotund side. He walked with mincing steps, skirting the slimy puddles.  The fluorescent street light shone on his balding pate.  He poked at a piece of paper with his cane and glanced around uneasily.

The night was warm and humid and Henry was sweating as he turned away from the lights, down his quiet street. The house mother had left him was in need of a few repairs but it wasn’t his fault that his investments hadn’t paid off the way he had expected. Henry had an astute mind and a flair for finance.  How could he foresee the market going soft?

He shivered slightly, even in the heat. It must have been the tale told by the Dean’s sister. A disturbing woman with wild hair and clothing that was far too bright. Her eyes glittered and made Henry’s heart pound in the most disconcerting way. She spoke with an accent and claimed to have traveled from the West Indies. Even her name was exotic…Valencia. Henry didn’t much care for exotic people or places. He preferred his own home, his daily newspaper, and his morning tea at he same time every day.  He pulled his handkerchief from his jacket pocket and mopped his forehead.  He walked quickly now. The shadows were deeper and the usually comforting lane seemed menacing. He heard an echo of footsteps somewhere behind him. He thought again about the story of the soucouyant – an old woman who could turn to a fireball and slip through your keyhole and suck your blood, either turning you into her kind or killing you so she could wear your skin and pursue more victims. What a lot of rot. Henry chuckled at his nervousness.  Too much rich food made for crazy thoughts.

He could see his home just a few doors down and he nearly stumbled in his haste. He remembered the strange woman extending her hand to him as he made his goodbyes.  She smiled at Henry.

“You are not superstitious?”

Henry frowned and pulled his hand from her grasping fingers.

“No I am not. Nothing but a bunch of silly tales made up by uneducated people trying to explain the world.”

She smiled again and the glare from the lamps glinted off her teeth. Henry felt the room spin and drew back. Surely a trick of the lights…She licked her lips.

“There are many things in the world – terrifying things with voracious appetites that cannot be explained.”  She patted his cheek. Henry had been backing up slowly and jumped when his back touched the door.

“Ggggood evening madam!” Henry stammered and turned to escape into the night.

Now as the conversation came back to him he kept seeing those shiny teeth.  He nearly stumbled as he hurried up the front steps and let himself in, throwing the deadbolt behind him.
He shook himself and sighed in relief.

I am being ridiculous!  A glass of brandy and then bed!

Henry took off his shoes and set them next to the door, putting on his slippers. He poured a glass of brandy and sat in his leather chair with the lamp spilling cheerful light around him.  A combination of nerves and the brandy (and a very full stomach) made him sleepy and he soon dozed off.  Henry was snoring when the front door lock began to glow.  A bright ball of fire flowed through the keyhole and Henry jerked awake in time to see the flames shimmer and fade until the form of Valencia stood before him.  His lamp dimmed and just before the room was plunged into darkness, Henry screamed at the sight of those bright white teeth.  Henry stopped screaming as the vampire jaws nearly decapitated him.

The soucouyant would have to wear her own skin another day.

Help!

 

I’m drowning in
tomato soup
I’ve paddled fast
and furious
but can’t escape
the goop
the eyes, the flies
are watching me
and will not
let me out
I pray that they
don’t fill the spoon
and snort me
through their snout!

Image source: http://wallpapers.free-review.net/12_~_My_plate.htm

The Break-up

Written for 3 Word Wednesday

Celia took a sip of wine and stepped back to admire her handiwork.

“Perfect!  Look how your eyes follow the natural direction of color on the wall.  Maybe one last piece…”

Tom stared, eyes glazed over. She held her fingers up in a square, squinting a little to get just the right perspective.

“Right there on the left I think…”

She set her glass down on the coaster and bent down to pick up the gun. She put one hand under her wrist to support the weight and aimed at the left side of his head, gently squeezing the trigger. His head jerked just a tiny bit from the impact. Celia smiled at the tableau.

She turned off the stereo, washed glass and returned it to the cupboard and wiped her fingerprints from the gun, placing it in Tom’s hand.

Celia paused at the door for one last look, glanced at her hair in the mirror, turned out the light and headed for the parking garage humming Ravel’s Bolero.  These breakups just got better and better.

3 Word Wednesday Word choices: admire, follow, piece

Doors

there are doors
that keep us safe
and doors that
keep us near
and doors to worlds
we wish to see
down paths
so dark and drear
we cannot see
around the bend
the future all unknown
and yet we walk
without a map
and hope
to make it home

all must walk
the path alone
though married
young or old
a hand may make
for comfort now
staving off
the cold
but to the world
we come alone
and leave the
very same
pass through the
veil of sorrow here
leave words
our only fame

 

image credit: Carmen Spitznagel

Magic Chicken

Rowan examined the pages of the codex for the third time. The words blurred and rambled over the page.  She pushed her hair off her face and wished for a breeze. The fire burned hot enough to make satan uncomfortable but a shiver ran through her, chilling her blood til it felt gelid and swollen in her heart.

“If I don’t do this, Aidan will die.  If I don’t do this right, I will die.” she thought.  Neither choice was acceptable. She had walked all day after visiting the old woman in the cave.  Most of her advice was nothing but headology and that might work on the poor folk in the valley who were ignorant of the true path.  Rowan needed real magic tonight and real magic demanded blood.  She had a catheter ready to insert into her own vein and prayed for the resilience to follow through.  She sighed and read the page one more time.

“Defenestrate?  Why didn’t it just say throw it out the window?” She sighed half from frustration and half from exhaustion.

When she had drained the required amount of blood from her own arm, she applied herbs and a clean cloth to close the wound. She was ready for the incantation.

gizzards and feathers
shall be mixed with the blood
for reincarnation
needs more than mud
twice to the left
thrice to the right
at gibbous moon
in pale dead light

Aidan moaned on the cot and opened his eyes.

“Shazam” He smiled weakly at her.

“Shut up fool”  Rowan’s knees gave out and she sank down beside him.
“You owe me seven chickens!”

creativecopychallenge.com

codex
defenestrate
gizzard
headology
gelid
catheter
reincarnation
shazam
resilience
burn

phew, that was a tough one…

The Business of Life

going about
the business of life
running and pleasing
never feeling you are enough
breathing constricted
thinking conflicted
you can lay it down
look around
feel the air on your skin
sun warmed a mystery
of cloud shadows
moving over your face
over the valleys of deep
sorrow and peaks
of joyous heights snowbound
where the bristle cone pine
twists around your heart
chases rabbit and raven
and laughter and haven
for all earth just waits
while going about
the business of life

inspired by “Wild Geese” by Mary Oliver

Written for dVerse

 

Not THAT Tired…

there is tired
and there’s tired
and right now
I am feeling
every stinking sinking
ache and creak
and pain that sneaks
in older bones
like telephones are
calling all the joints and
things are screaming
this is seeming
like it should be
happening to someone
could be maybe older
temper smolders
I’m not that one
I’m not aging
I am raging and not going
with no fighting
let me tell you
I’ll work through it
I am staying and
I’m playing and some
singing
maybe dancing
there’s a party and
I’m hanging I’m not missing
one sweet second
if I have to then
it won’t be graceful
if I go
well then I know
that you will all start
doing fun stuff
so I’m calling
father time’s bluff
stick me up
in that back corner
I’ll be quiet
and just listen
write my stories
and my poems
just a scribble
maybe nibble on a snack
or maybe two
just let me stay
what do you say?

Written for Open Mic Night at dVerse

Disappearing Ink

Albie wrapped the rags around his neck and mouth and shivered.  The smoke from the fire smelled of something dead and gave off little heat.  He got more warmth from the people gathered around. He longed for quiet as the noise pounded into his head.  A group on the corner was beating on cans and rusted sheets of metal, shards of glass rained down from the vacant building above and someone in the corner was moaning. Albie kept his eyes lowered and shoved his hands deep into his pockets.

Just yesterday, the sun was shining as he kissed his wife goodbye and left for the office.  Everything had been one long night since. His office was an empty lot like the whole east side of town. At least that was what he heard. It was forbidden to go to that sector so there was no way to know for sure.  Albie wondered about Jeff who used to be in the office next to his. Did he survive? He used to keep a picture of his family on his desk. Pretty wife and two tow-headed daughters grinned in front of a brick house in the burbs. He would rather think about times at his old job than Sarah.  That opened up a desolate pit of pain that was best avoided.  People whispered about an apocalypse. Albie figured he was in hell.

An old man shuffled forward, breaking all the rules. He looked each person straight in the eye until they returned his stare for a second.  He patted this one and that one on the shoulder as he wandered around the alley.  Fool! He will be dead before morning, Albie thought! Sure enough, the old man wandered into a dark corner and after a scuffle, he was just gone.  Crazy Mary cackled and rocked, pulling her cardboard up around her.  Albie wondered once why no one bothered her, Then one night he saw a fat man reach down for a piece of her makeshift house and screamed when a flash of silver drew a dark line across his hand.  Albie stayed well away from Mary’s wall after that. Her cackle ran shivery fingers up his spine.

Albie’s fingers closed around the crumbling piece of paper in his pocket. He had rubbed it for so long the ink was gone. It didn’t matter. He knew the words by heart.

Ten words from Creative Copy Challenge

Yesterday
Apocalypse
Gone
Empty
Desolate
Forbidden
Time
Eyes
Know
Vacant

99%

ejected from polite society
presumed impropriety
how was I to know
and now there’s nothing
left to show but
oily shadows inching away
from salvation
coating grace with heart debris
keeping joy at bay
keeping me down
keeping me sleeping
under cardboard
under fire escapes
that go nowhere
nothing but dead air
and the rat-a-tat
of an impact wrench
around the corner
I am rendered silent
spinning out on waves
of our disconnect
strung out cans
with no string between
slip the grasp
as morning clears
peeling tar paper
revealing concrete
frosted by rusted pipes
I turn my head
make myself small
make myself small
you don’t see me

 

Three Word Wednesday prompts: eject, impact, render

 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j8t4Sjmlc-w&feature=related

 

This gentleman says it much better than I ever could.  http://wheneftalks2.blogspot.com/