Writers Book of Days prompt: It was that kind of day…
I was never good at waiting
itchy antsy
pantys in a wad
need to know the now
the how the why
and wherefore
what’s the deal
you ask I’ll tell you
if you give me answers
fast
hurry worry
scurry around like rats in a
closet closer to
my heart apart
my heart
I want to know
so show the down low
slow to listen
quick to smart off
but sorry all the laters
alligators
after while
crocodile I’m outa here
Three word Wednesday CXCVII
gentle, praise, vulgar
the wind it sings a lullaby
and tells me where it’s been
and though my body sleeps below
my soul as if on gentle wings
takes to the air where souls will sing
all gathered in amongst the stars
from all the corners of the earth
sing loudest harmonies
of praises to the one who made
us all and as we gather
angels watch in silence til
the dawn is raised in chorus
no vulgar words can ere compete
with glory blowing through the night
amid among around and round
through starshine moonshine
raining down as softly
as a mothers touch
each soul arrives back home and then
earth gravity settles all to stir
in waking heartbeats
memories pure
of nightsongs heard not
through the day but
we will once again be free
when sunsets pillowed wrapped
in quilts of deepest blue and
purple take us to
the midnight chorus once again
where we will soar in majesty
The Writers Book of Days prompt for July 14th: Write about an epiphany. Come back for my post later.
Writer’s Island #11 prompt: Treasure
we search and lurch
from dream to dream
hoping for well
anything
that makes us less
or makes us more
underwater
yearn for shore
on the shore now
thirst for
what was first but now
is last beginnings never
last for we
are moving ever
forward when we
only want to stop the clock
and stay a moment
for a day or maybe longer
time to hold it in
be stronger than
we were the daydream
passes without notice
hours and minutes
taken from us
by the choices
voices of
the ones we love
and those we don’t
the soundtrack in
the background wind
will blow the treetops
over and the shade will hover
for a second then
the sun will out again
our breath our heart
beat from within
without the hands that
hold our days and ways
of passing time
the search is quest is
journey through
the best is still
a part of all our
memories of days
and trees
The Writers Book of Days prompt for July 13 is Write about a theft.
This blog is my journal so I remind myself here that I have my own permission to suck as much as I want as long as I write something.
Wolf Fear
Jae curled herself up into a tight ball, pushed as far into the corner as she could get. Small, hidden. Her inability to make a decision and her fear of confrontation had lead her to this moment.
She had let life happen to her. Every decision made first by her parents, then Simon, and now the pack. Aedan. Everyone told her what was right for her. Jae go here. Jae hunt there. Jae do the right thing. Right for who?
Now she was hiding in a corner in Simon’s cabin like a child afraid of the dark. Simon was gone with a promise to return in two weeks. She couldn’t even be alone without someone giving her permission!  She took what was offered because she needed time to think. Too much too fast. She was learning to hunt and there had been such a feeling of freedom with the pack. At first. Then the fighting began. The tension built until Aedan took her on a walk one morning and through pictures in her head, showed her herself as his mate. Everything crashed in on Jae at once and she ran until exhausted she found herself on Simon’s porch.
Simon! How could he do this to her. She snarled at him when he opened the door. Angry or not, she was horrified at what she had become. She could have…well she didn’t even want to think about it. She backed off the porch and Simon shut the door. He waited until she had calmed down, then told her through the door that he would set clothing outside and when she was changed and dressed he would be waiting inside.
The door open a crack and a pile of clothing appeared on the porch. The door shut again. When Jae was human and dressed, she opened the door. Simon was sitting in his rocking chair waiting. Jae stopped in the middle of the room and stared at him with her fists clenched. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Simon sighed. “Tell you what?”
“Tell me that I would be forced to choose a mate! Jae started pacing. “A wolf stole my humanity. A wolf stole my family from me. I can’t go home! Now my choices for the rest of my life are being stolen too!
“Maybe you better explain a little about what happened. I am not a wolf, Jae. I don’t know the inner working of everything.” Simon spoke in a clam quiet voice and waited for her to answer. Jae realized that she was shaking and sweating and took a deep breath. She didn’t need to change while she was in the house with Simon and her anger had her feeling more wold than person. She closed her eyes for a moment until she felt she had control again.
“I can’t just hunt with the pack when I feel like it and then come back and be human here. I don’t understand it myself but Aedan told me that unattached females can cause the entire pack to become unstable. If I want to hunt with them I have to choose a mate! Jae’s voice rose on the last word and she started pacing again. “I haven’t even had time to get used to being a wolf and now I’m supposed to be a wife too?”
Simon closed his eyes in thought. “It seems to me that what you are needing from me is time alone to think some things through.” He opened his eyes and waited until she stopped pacing and looked at him. “I have never lied to you Jae. I’ve never intentionally left anything out. It is what it is. I can try to give help, but I can’t change anything. I wish could.”
Jae looked at Simon and knew he was being honest with her. She could see in his eyes that he hurt for her. She bowed her head. “I’m sorry. I’m so angry and I don’t know what to do! Maybe you’re right. I need time to think.”
Simon stood and began packing things in a sack. “I’ve needed to take a little trip for awhile. It will give you time. You are safe here and welcome to stay. I will be back before the next full moon.”
“Simon. Thank you and…I’m sorry.”
Simon took her hand. “You have been strong and I am proud of you. I have dealt with Aedan before. He is a fair man and will answer your questions. There must have been trouble in the pack for him to just throw this at you..”
Jae frowned. “I’ve never met him in human form.”
“Then maybe that is the answer.” Simon kissed her forehead. “Take care child.”
Jae was alone. That night the howling started. They were all around the house. She could hear the clicking of their claws on the porch and they banged into the door. She put out the lantern so they couldn’t see her and allowed her eyesight to adjust. She rocked herself with her arms wrapped around her knees. “Go away, go away, go away.” She whispered.
Just about the time Jae thought she would lose her mind, she heard growling and the sound of fighting. There were yelps of fear and pain and then silence. At first the silence was a relief. Then fear began to grow. Would they come back? What stopped them?
That was how she found herself in this corner. Trying to hide from her life. Angry and frozen inside.
For More Wolf Moon stories go here
Adelyn lay still in the dark, staring at the sliver of light shining around the edge of the drapes in the motel room. In the light she was tough and all business but here in the silence, the fear crept over her, smothering her like a blanket that was too heavy. She could just make out the lump he made, wrapped in the bedspread on the floor. She had offered to share the bed, but he said he was used to the floor. Maybe it was the pistol she set on the nightstand next to her. He moaned quietly in his sleep.
She shivered thinking about the day and this new responsibility. What would daylight bring. If they made it to daylight. Adelyn hated the dark because she couldn’t see what was coming. She loved it because whatever was coming couldn’t see her. She glanced over at the glowing green numbers of the alarm clock for the thousandth time. Three in the morning. She wished for a switch that would let her turn off her mind. Adelyn willed her eyes closed. She needed sleep.
Among the pile of mail stuffed into our mailbox was a book I ordered before we left. “A Writer’s Book of Days” by Judy Reeves. The cover describes it as “A Spirited Companion & Lively Muse for the Writing Life” The book is filled with prompts for every day of the year plus encouragement, inspiration and much more. My plan is to post the prompts each day here which hopefully will not violate any copyright issues and maybe encourage others to purchase the book and possibly join me on this little sidetrip. I don’t know that I will post my results here every day though I am committed to writing SOMETHING in my journal everyday even if it is something small. I have no plan to start a participation site or take anything away from the ones I currently participate in. That said, if you want to play you are welcome to comment or drop me an email at deedeekm at sign gmail dot com. Most likely if you decide to play I will already be reading your work anyway.
The prompt for today, July 12 fascinated me so here it is:
“Throw away the lights, the definitions and say of what you see in the dark.” Wallace Stevens (a modernist poet that I had never heard of. See I’m learning something already!)
I have been letting things slide this summer, not counting the vacation – the slippage had begun before that. This is my public challenge to myself to put the ass in the chair and write.
The How to use this book section tells you to use the prompt in a line or as a jumping off place, turn it around – whatever you want. Just turn off the internal editor (mine is a pure bitch). Maybe you could turn on the lights and come out of the dark. I’m going to visit some friends blogs and do some reading and then see where this prompt takes me.
It is good to be home.
Three Word Wednesday cxcvi acrid bane tepid
Hello from a motel in Opelousas 🙂
chocka chocka chocka
road seams keeping time
wheels turn wheels turn
taking me to and away
miles and miles of separation
mind numbing vibration
other lives not chosen
distance closing
change is coming
I am going home
other eyes other hands
trailing memories in my wake
what to take
and what to leave behind
years of days good times passing
in between the standing still
seconds ticking moments picking
what to choose what to lose
the pieces of
puzzle unfinished
would have wished for
less or more
a closing door
while I would throw
the window open
acrid smell of smoking
ashes burned up past
I cast aside the tide
the trees the sands of
dream stuff trickled
through my fingers
scent that lingers in
my hazy waking thoughts
we fought but kept
the peace the signs
were there
the choice we bear
hours of discussion
scenery keeps on rushing
past the kudzu frosting
we are lost in
separate but together ties
that bind us
still remind us
of the roads that swallow
up the miles
that start as inches
late night conversations
day to day familiar
obligations passions cooled
to tepid hesitation
future is a blacked out game
wishful thinking
all a bane
eternal as the pines and rain
I hold my breath a beat
or two
fingertip to fingertip
I walk with you
Writers Island: Imagine
There is a feel to Florida
like nowhere else I’ve been
the ocean softens the air
lazy hazy heat
back in the day
palm trees made me smile
tall and thin
strong and I
eager to run in the sun
I can still imagine that girl
and love the feel of sand
between my toes
but now I feel more kinship
with the liveoaks
dripping with spanish moss
I would sit in their shade
and listen to the bullfrogs
smell the ocean
and watch the palms sway
like so many ladies
fanning themselves
whispering secrets
One Single Impression: Ochre
morning dawns with ochre beams
blanket warmed and pillow soft
fetching me from wandering dreams
sprawled and tangled set adrift
nothing moves, disturbs the quiet
days flow into honeyed days
outside sunlight summers riot
peaceful slow and easy ways
It would seem that both my children believe in freedom of expression in the press 🙂
Published June 24, 2010
I am a 2009 graduate of North Lamar High School, and am more than ecstatic for the One Act Play and softball team on their State Championships.
However, I am not at all thrilled with this city when it comes to academic recognition. There are students at North Lamar who have been crowned UIL State champions in debate for two years in a row. There are students who have made All State Band twice, and are only sophomores. Where is their recognition? Where is their city-wide rally celebration?
This town needs to get its head out of the sand and realize that these kids work just as hard as any athlete or actor, and deserve just as much recognition by not just the school or The Paris News, but by the City of Paris as a whole. If you’re going to honor one group of kids for being state champions, you need to honor them all.
Jessica Martin
Paris
One Single Impression: Ochre
and I would lay me down
in leaves of ochre and pine green
soft forest shadows all around
cool and misty dreams
and as the shadows grow
midnight blue and charcoal deep
fear is driven far below
enfolded in the wings of sleep
Sunday Scribblings #221 : lifeswap
Adelyn always heard that the kitchen was “the heart of the home”. She didn’t know about that, but it sure was where everything happened in her home. He was passed out now, head on his arms on the kitchen table. He muttered drunkenly and she whipped her head around, making sure he was still asleep.
He never made a move as she fished the key to the gun cabinet out of his pocket. She had her bag packed with necessities, not that she needed much. Now she was raiding the gun cabinet. He could just consider it payment for the knot that was swelling over her left eye.
She stayed after mama died. Didn’t have much choice. There wasn’t much you could do when you were fourteen. That was three years ago and things were different now. He had gotten worse, for one thing. The more he drank the angrier he got. This was the second time he had ever hit her. It would be the last.
She grabbed several handguns and boxes of ammunition. He knew what mama was when they married. She didn’t know until years later, that he tried to get mama to quit. He never understood that it wasn’t something she had a choice about. He blamed her and when Adelyn started seeing shadows, he blamed mama for that too. Said it was bad blood. That was the first time he hit her.
Mama walked in just after the first swing of the strap. The second swing caught mama on the back as she reached for Adelyn and pulled her out of his reach. She stared at him without saying a word until he lowered his head. He walked out of the house and stayed gone for a week.
That was all in the past. It was her turn to leave. Mama was from Michigan. Adelyn had a name and a town. She turned the key and the truck engine caught. She pulled up to the mailbox at the end of the drive and slid an envelope inside. She would be a thousand miles away before he woke up and found the note. There was a time she would have swapped lives with anyone for normal. Not anymore.
I could see no way to embed the video shown on this page but wanted to share it anyway. The video “We’ll Always Have Paris…Texas”  features a few friends. Enjoy!
National Geographic Travel Bob Krist
Make sure you check out “High Strung Bluegrass” too 🙂
Writers Island: Change One Single Impression: Dawn and One Word: Tide
if I held the moon
in my hands
I would command
the ebb and flow of
ocean tides
hidden strings
wolves would sing
their night song
gazing at my face
my light would paint
the trees and streams
and though I change
and disappear
I would return
huge and bright
haunting dreams
if I held the sun
I would pour it out
flowers lifting faces
following my path
I wake the birds
to sing you the dawn
while I bath the sky
watercolor ballet
delicate traces
bring forth sweat
as you toil
then rock you at eventide
a symphony of royal purple
and flame
setting and rising
warmth my name
But if I could breathe the wind
I would cover the sun and the moon
with clouds and
blow them all away again
make you chase your hat
while I laugh
the trees would dance and bow
as squirrels cling
the oceans leap and burst
spraying the sky with diamonds
seeds scatter to wait
for the sun
carry the birds
fill the sails
in darkness and light
power of butterfly wings
Sunday Scribbling 220: Birth and Big Tent Poetry: milk, resent, praise, hungry, dangerous, cough, part, dark, comfort, stars, dull
milk and honey
land awaiting someday
dangerous to bet
on future wishes
leaves you hungry
in the night
resentment dulls
the appetite
a cough in the dark
becomes fear
that too much time
has passed just
sing your praises
to the stars and
take comfort in
the arms of
the present
part the veil
brush the darkness
away for daylight
gives birth to
another chance
One Word: without
without rain
I am dry and cracked
future mud
ever waiting racked
with need for something
I can’t even name
to tame the wild flame
of wishful thinking
sinking to the bottom of
the well of all I ever wanted
haunted by the ghosts
of many lives long
past the corner of
the street I used to walk
the ghosts could talk to
you but won’t they’re
mine and mine alone
atone for sins not understood
but do we even
if we could would we
make the change
arrange our lives just
so adjustment made
a sacrifice
for rain
This puts it in perspective