Saturday, June 29

No-Prompt Thursday-Eight, françoise MICHEL

françoise MICHEL

CHIROMANCIE

Du creux de notre main
Nos doigts tracent des chemins
Qui décident de  notre destin
Mes choix pour demain ?
Saisir un avenir plus serein
A vivre chaque matin.....


In English:

PALMISTRY

From hollow our hand
Our fingers trace paths
Who decide our destiny
My choices for tomorrow?
catch a most serene future
and live it every morning .....

I would like to add it’s not easy to write in a language that one doesn’t speak. Therefore when reading this the original language will express this person the best. ♦Website’s owner.

Thursday, June 27

Prompt Tuesday, Image-Ten, Bekkie Sanchez

Bekkie Sanchez

DSC09871-moonhidetail1

No-Prompt Thursday-Eight, Letitia Minnick

CaptureWiz_049

Letitia Minnick

Perseverance

Knives stab at knots
in the lower left lumbar as
the bells toll
unmercifully.
Willing forward motion
to give the dog
his morning walkies,
popping pills
to punch the clock just
to make the mortgage,
feet half step
half shamble
like walking dead
praying for poetry
to voice the silent scream.

Prompt Tuesday, Image-Ten, Ian Andrews

DSC09871-moonhidetail1

Ian Andrews

Justin stared up at the fat round moon hanging low in the sky like a dead eyeball overlooking the world and all its sins. Tonight the moon was his judge and jury. But of course, he was the executioner. It had taken some time to pick the lock on the door even after many dedicated hours of practicing. Justin chalked it up to nerves. It was his first time after all and some anxiety was expected.

He had managed to prepare everything else with a neat almost compulsive precision. His backpack hung heavy on his shoulders with all the necessary tools of the trade. He ticked each item off in his head as he ran the picks into the deadbolt of the door desperately probing for the tumblers. Knife, duct tape, rope, syringe and surgical gloves. He was ready for the evening to begin. Justin felt the final tumblers fall into place as he twisted the deadbolt free. He took one final look at the bloated moon in the sky behind him and whispered; “Don't tell anybody.” With a smirk he crept into the darkness of the house and vanished.

The inside of the dark house enveloped him and gave Justin a surge of confidence. He wasn't exposed, instead he was like a shadow creeping silently up the wall almost imperceptible. The din inside the house was that of a funeral home and corpses would have made more noise. Justin had an idea as to where to go despite the unfamiliarity of the layout. The bedroom would be at the top of the stairs. It was all the same in these cookie-cutter homes prefabricated in the suburban wasteland. As his he listened carefully, Justin could make out the soft sounds of snoring from up above. He longed to breathe that same air because she would be there.

Knives of moonlight streaked through the windows but Justin managed to avoid them as he made his way up the stairs. Light felt like poison on his body as he embraced the darkness. He now stood in the doorway that led into the bedroom.  He caught his breath as he saw her. She was laying on the bed with only a sheet covering her nude form. The moon cast a light upon her that accentuated her shapeliness from beneath the covers. His urge grew stronger and he noiselessly stepped into the room with a purpose. He had been watching her for weeks, like his little doll or a pet. His pet! He wanted nothing more than to curl up beside her in bed and wrap his arms around her entwining both bodies until neither could be distinguished from the other.

Justin smiled wide and reached his arm around to the opening at the top of his backpack and produced the duct tape. Using the tape right here would make too much noise and was an irritation in the dark quiet of the house. Justin decided to move out of the room and peel off a strip before coming back in and gagging her. In the hallway he picked at the tape’s edge with his fingernail. Finally a strip gave way and he quietly tore off a six inch piece ready for silencing any protests. Aside from the setbacks and the anxiety, Justin thought this was going better than planned.

He was finally ready and entered the room. But she was gone! Frantically, he scanned the room. Had she gone to the bathroom or did she actually know something was wrong? Panic flooded him as he swung his head from side to side looking for her. He moved towards the hallway feeling like he should make his escape. At the very least, if she knew he was here she would have called the police. Justin couldn't let that happen. He stepped into the hallway at the top of the stairs when he suddenly felt a sharp pain on the side his head.  

Justin came to, dizzy and disoriented and tried to look around. She was taping his hands to the bed frame and as he lay on the bed incapacitated he wondered how this would end. She swam into his view, her naked body straddling his and smiled at him. “So you thought you could sneak up on me is that it?” She asked with just a hint of superiority. Justin looked at her coolly and said nothing. She pulled a knife from beneath her pillow and ran the sharp edge down Justin's chest. “You should have planned better;” she murmured softly.

The moonlight filled the room like a beacon as she ran her fingers across Justin's chest and groin. Giggling softly, she said; “You know I am going to have to make you pay for your mistakes, don't you?” Justin smiled broadly and said; “Next time you get to be the burglar.” She kissed him deeply, and for once the moonlight felt inviting."

Prompt Tuesday, Image-Ten, françoise MICHEL

DSC09871-moonhidetail1

françoise MICHEL

ATTRACTION

Ce soir, elle est tellement près
Etendre mon bras pour l'attraper.
Ramener à moi ce bout d'inconnu,
Cette planète pour poètes et farfelus.

Ce serait oublier le sens originel :
L'équilibre de notre bonne Terre
Qui dépend de l'astre lunaire.
Pas question de couper la ficelle !

Je résiste à la tentation,
Simplement en admiration.


In English:

ATTRACTION

Tonight, it is so close
Extend my arm to catch it
Attract to me this piece of unknown
This planet for poets and eccentric.

That would ignore the original sense :
The equilibrium of our good Earth
Which depends on the lunar star.
No matter of cutting the cord !

I resist at the temptation
Simply full of admiration.

I would like to add it’s not easy to write in a language that one doesn’t speak. Therefore when reading this the original language will express this person the best. ♦Website’s owner.

Wednesday, June 26

Prompt Tuesday, Image-Ten, Pensador Louco

DSC09871-moonhidetail1

Pensador Louco

A Gift

If I had, between possessions and funds
The whole world kept in a thimble
And if I rejected each one of its corners
The way I disown grains of salt

I would still wonder, daydreaming
About this plain, simple globe
That in its full, silver, shiny way
Gave light to this endless dark

But anyway, tonight is yours alone
See, I land the dark at your hands
Keep this moon with you, then
Turn your howls into a song

And awake from their sleep, in tears
A world who hasn't yet realized
That the night, the moon and its charms
Are in a thimble that is yours from now on.

Prompt Tuesday, Image-Ten, Letitia Minnick

DSC09871-moonhidetail1

Letitia Minnick

Luna

Majestic and cold
she sits among diamonds
yielding only
when the morning begs
an offering of gold

Monday, June 24

No-Prompt Thursday-Seven, Letitia Minnick

 photo Animated-FlashingPhotographersLight.gif
 Letitia Minnick

The Critic's Poniard

A flash of pugnacity
blinds
as whetted metal
stabs and stings--
every word
a subtle slice
to prolong the point
and make wounds weep.

Sunday, June 23

Show Off Your Skills-Prompt/List, 6/23/13, Ian Andrews

Using this list of words for a prompt write a story.

  • Apartment
  • Brother-in-law
  • Cello
  • Driver
  • Earthquake
  • Level
  • Paint
  • Rule
  • Step-father
  • Trade

wqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqq

Ian Andrews

I slammed the door to my apartment. "Fuck you, Aaron!" I yelled through the doorway at my Brother-in-law. I could hear him in the hallway cursing, and suddenly he began kicking at the door. I engaged the deadbolt and as I leaned my back against the door as if to brace it, I could feel the reverberation of his kicks like an earthquake violently shaking my body. He stopped.  I listened, pressing my ear against the door. He was gone.

My heart was racing but soon, as I settled into my couch, the erratic beats within my chest started to level off. Three flights below from my open window, I heard the slam of a taxi door (most likely Aaron still seething). The driver peeled away, tires screeching for the briefest of seconds.  I imagined that somehow the taxi driver had been infected by Aaron's rage.

I thought back to the party. Harold, my Step-father, was stumbling drunk. This was not uncommon. In fact, it would be more fair to say it was rare when he wasn't drunk. Mother had only one rule: no hitting on other women. She knew he would never cheat on her. He was too loyal of a man. But he did become a bit more frisky when he'd really tied one on.

I sat in the corner staring at the wall, as if watching the paint dry. I was never big on weddings. It all seemed like a big waste of money. But my Step-sister Carol was beautiful. It was her beauty that caught my attention, drawing me from my reverie. Her white gown flowed with an unearthly elegance. She seemed to walk in slow motion. They entered the dance floor, Carol and Aaron. A cello began playing. and then it was joined with other instruments. A soft melody swam through the room.

I don't know if it was the melody or the fact that I too had been drinking, but I suddenly felt the urge to tell Aaron the truth. Of course, any rational person would have realized this was the exact worst time in the world to tell your new Brother-in-law that you were in love with his wife who also happened to be your Step-sister. I suppose tonight, misery was my trade.

I sauntered onto the dance floor, hearing gasps and mumbles of confusion from the onlookers. Brazenly, I wedged myself between them, my back to Carol, and I pushed Aaron away. "You don't deserve her. I know all about you and that girl from the country club." I pointed my finger in his face. "I followed you one night and saw you and her fucking behind the stables. How dare you do that to Carol, you son of a bitch?!"

Aaron stared in awe, dumbstruck. I could hear Carol begin crying from behind me. Then she ran out of the room sobbing. The entire ballroom was silent then suddenly I felt a sharp pain in my cheek. I was sitting, not standing any longer. I could see stars move around my field of vision. I held my fingers to my cheek and pulled my hand away only to find blood. Aaron towered over me now with a look of murder burned onto his face.  I sat, waved my hand out, still struggling to orient myself from the blow. Then, with renewed vigor, I jumped up and made a run for the exit.  I sped through the audience, pushing and shoving until I found the main entryway. I drove into the door, swung it open, and took off into the night. Aaron had followed.

We both must have ran a mile; in tuxedos no less. I imagined a strange mob scene from an old Empire City film. As I rounded the corner, I saw my apartment building in plain view. I raced inside, not bothering with the elevator. My legs and arms were burning with fatigue but my adrenaline helped me up the three flights until I found my door. Slamming my key into the lock, I turned for a split second and saw Aaron sprinting down the hall toward me.

I slammed the door to my apartment.

Prompt Tuesday, Image-Nine, Bekkie Sanchez

13 - 1 (5)

Bekkie Sanchez

Sweet Dreams

Stars shine bright
In a field of blue
The stars will twinkle
And bless you.

As long as your heart
Stays kind and true,
Sweet dreams
Will always be with you.

Friday, June 21

Prompt Tuesday, Image-Nine, Letitia Minnick

13 - 1 (5)
Letitia Minnick

Unexpected Ember

Caught in a web of memory,
she could not breathe.

His gruff tenor,
unmistakable,
resounded from behind
the closed door--
warm to her ears
as it shattered
what was left of her heart.

Saturday, June 15

No-Prompt Thursday-Six, Letitia Minnick

Letitia Minnick

Wary on a Wednesday

Greeted by caution tape
strung outside my cubicle,
I paused wondering...

Was it was to warn me
of the tile work
out in the front hall or
of the emails
lying in wait for my log in?

Prompt Tuesday, Image-Eight, Letitia Minnick

dreaming

Letitia Minnick

Momentary Lapse

A path to nowhere
in the middle of nowhere
centered somewhere
in the dark recesses of my mind.

Fighting a temptation toward panic,
I stand still
breathing--
focused on being
now here.

Friday, June 14

Show Off Your Skills, 6/14/13, Jeff A

Jeff A

No Title

Within dreams things seem serene,
Its likely that their chill.
In these dreams
Things come unseen,
I'm going for the kill.
In my dreams
things
Are never as they seem.
But at least in these,
dreams of poetry,
I can be
Undisturbed and unperturbed,
Alone to finally face me.

Show Off Your Skills, 6/14/13, Bekkie Sanchez

Bekkie Sanchez

Here’s my acrostic poem describing and spelling out “Acrostic.”

Acrostic’s

Create poems

Rhyming or not

Often silly poems

Short stories also

Tied to one subject

Interesting to read and look at

Contrary of more serious forms.

Show Off Your Skills, 6/14/13, Jeff A

Tishkov_Moon4_thumb[44]

Jeff A

Show Offs

Showing off,
for the fun.
Were showing off
For the sun.
A shitty poem,
Is to be shown-
Until the day I'm done.

Thursday, June 13

Show Off Your Skills, 6/13/13, Yobial Marin

Yobial Marin

THE WINDOW

Grey clouds make way to skies of blue,
The sun breaks through to warm the earth.
I stare out of the Window,
A ghost that looks upon an empty space,
Not of this world.
Eyes see, the heart is closed and dormant.
A single tear frozen in time,
The soul is lost in transit.

Figures walk past, look up and smile,
A blur, unrecognizable.
Distant voices reaching out,
The sound is always silent.
A speeding car, a changing light.
The distant cry of a new born child,
A dying man's last breath.

Contrast and contradiction,
Life offers and withholds.
Shrill laughter, quieted by the cries of anguish.
Alone I watch ...
The Window shields me from an unknown world.

Wednesday, June 12

Prompt Tuesday, Image-Eight, Pensador Louco

dreaming 

Pensador Louco

- Despedida -

Sigo ao longo das raízes
Corpo imerso em terra e sal
Feito terra como fui carne
Nu, deposto de moral

Sem mais lágrimas, sem luto
Uma lembrança tão presente
A qual absorta tal qual chuva
Então se vai com a torrente

Nesta noite sou o vento
Percorrendo a mata em paz
Um adeus, adeus, ausente
Que não se perderá jamais


In English:

- Farewell -

Following along the roots
Body immersed in earth and salt
Ground meat was done as
Naked, deposed moral

No more tears, no mourning
A memory as this
Which as it absorbed rain
So it goes with the torrent

Tonight I am the wind
Walking through the woods in peace
Goodbye, farewell, missing
That do not ever lose

I would like to add it’s not easy to write in a language that one doesn’t speak. Therefore when reading this the original language will express this person the best. ♦Website’s owner.

Sunday, June 9

Prompt Tuesday, Image-Seven, Bekkie Sanchez

bomb

Bekkie Sanchez

The End

Hat crammed onto my head I walk

the streets. Nowhere to go now we have failed

ourselves for the last time. Elbowing through dirty

crowds of lost souls, I trip over a warm groaning body.

Sweating and feeling not unlike a corpse myself

I contemplate the glaring truth; we are all

beyond help; finally I spy the

park! Amazingly it’s

quiet here. Most

seek the

churches.

On my

bench

I sit

alone.

I can

see

the

end

from here.

As I watch the mushroom cloud.

No-Prompt Thursday-Five, Bekkie Sanchez

Bekkie Sanchez

Piles Of Smiles

 

Do something nice for somebody.

One act of kindness today.

Always be patient and thoughtful,

 

Leaving piles of smiles

As you go through your day.

No-Prompt Thursday-Five, françoise MICHEL

françoise MICHEL

Funambules

Je voudrais être un oiseau
Dormir dans le nid, tranquille
Attendant le petit vermiceau
Que me ramène un parent, habile.

Chanter à tue-tête
Dans le petit matin
Mon coeur en fête
Sans peur du lendemain

Me balancer sur un fil
Piailler sans répit, futile
Etourdir une amourette
Et l'emmener en goguette

Joindre nos deux émotions
En une seule passion
Du monde être les maîtres
Pour le faire renaître.


In English:

funambulists

I want to be a bird
Sleep in the nest, peaceful
Meanwhile the small worm
That brings me back a skillful parent

Sing loudly
In the morning
My Heart on holiday
Without fear of tomorrow

Throw me on a wire
Squawking tirelessly, futile
Deafen a flirtation
And take her on a spree

Joining up two emotions
In a single passion
Be masters of the world
For its eternal revival

I would like to add it’s not easy to write in a language that one doesn’t speak. Therefore when reading this the original language will express this person the best. ♦Website’s owner.

Saturday, June 8

No-Prompt Thursday-Five, Letitia Minnick

Letitia Minnick

Wallpaper from Wonderland

Swirls of bright hues offer
their pleasant distraction on
this dreary morning.

Having awakened with a brain
bustling and flipping
through the monstrous rolodex of things to do,
I find myself swept
into a curling embrace of color
whispering of Munch, Van Gogh
and the sweet,
sweet softness of Monet.

As the first clear chords of
"Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds"
echo in my internal ear,
I smile -- fully armed
against the day's rain.

(Thanks for the inspiration Bekkie!)

Thursday, June 6

Prompt Tuesday, Image-Seven, françoise MICHEL

bomb

françoise MICHEL

Event Entries 10:29 AM

Attérrés

A ce banc adossé comme tous les soirs
Je regarde s'envoler mon dernier espoir
Quel est ce champignon blanc, me direz-vous ?
La dernière navette qui part de chez nous

Notre Terre est devenue trop exsangue
Polluée, elle sort bientôt de sa gangue
Nos jeunes partent s'installer dans l'espace
Pour eux, l'ultime chance de trouver leur place

La planète est devenue l'immense mouroir
D'âmes trop agées pour vivre cette croyance
Nous restons dans ce monde au désespoir
Dont il ne reste plus qu'un grand silence

Le ciel va se refermer sur ce nuage blanc
Effaçant ainsi le souvenir de nos enfants.


In English:

Aghast

At this bench seated like every night
I look fly my last hope
What is this white fungus, you say?
The last space shuttle taking off from here

Our Earth has become too anemic
Polluted, it will come out soon from its coating
Our young people move to live in space
For them, the last chance to find their place

The planet has become huge hospice for the dying
Of souls too much elderly to live this belief
We stay in this world in despair
Of which It only remains a great silence

The sky will close on this white cloud
Definitively erasing the memory of our children.

the end

I would like to add it’s not easy to write in a language that one doesn’t speak. Therefore when reading this the original language will express this person the best. ♦Website’s owner.

No-Prompt Thursday-Five, Frances Harris

Frances Harris

EARTH

I’m flying in a space ship,
Looking far below,
The sky is black, the stars are bright,
I’ve been here quite a while,

I look to left, I look to right,
I see so many wonders,
There’s nothing much that can outdo,
The blue orb that’s down under,

It is my home, my refuge,
Blue and speckled skin,
Clouds, and sea and desert,
The lights flick off and on,

Like any traveler far from home
I think about its future,
Are we the ants that matter not?
Or do we bring salvation?

From this place so high above,
We don’t seem so important,
If we don’t care and love our home
We’ll disappear completely.

Wednesday, June 5

Prompt Tuesday-Image Seven, Letitia Minnick

bomb

Letitia Minnick

Event Entries 4:22 AM

A Bench with a View

Put me at ground zero
when the folly of men
push that demonic button.

Let me feed the ducks
and contemplate the clouds of
some serene vista
as I vaporize.

It is enough to be at the mercy
of political foolishness
without being made
to suffer its aftermath.

Tuesday, June 4

No-Prompt Thursday-Four, françoise MICHEL

françoise MICHEL

Event Entries Jun 2, 2013

LE BRIN D'HERBE

Graine née d'un peu d'eau et de terre
Pluie et soleil en nourriture élémentaire
Mon terrain de jeu est votre jardin
Je me balance au vent, d'un air badin
Avec le trèfle fleuri et le beau pissenlit
Les compagnons avec qui j'ai grandi.

Souvent, le coiffeur vient à domicile
Il me rend séduisant et gracile.
Quelquefois, vous m'écrasez par mégarde
Mais sans trêve, je relève ma garde
Comme la mauvaise herbe, je suis un dur
J'envie le ver de terre qui se ballade heureux
En prenant du monde, la vaste mesure
Tout cet inconnu a air si dangereux :
Maintes fois, il en est revenu raccourci
Puis...malgré tout, il repousse à la vie.

Mais pourquoi cet ombre qui fâche ?
Le soleil a soudain disparu
Et quelle est cette main nue
Qui me tire dessus et m'arrache ?
Me voilà mis en sac, dans la rue
Un camion s'arrête, le prend et le vide
Nul doute, cela me parait limpide
De mon grand voyage, c'est le début...!


IN ENGLISH :

THE BLADE OF GRASS

Seed born a little water and land
Rain and sun basic food
My playground is your garden
I move in the wind, a playful air
With ornate clover and the beautiful dandelion
Companions with whom I grew up.
Often the hairdresser comes home
It makes me attractive and slender.

Sometimes you inadvertently crush me
But without truce, I raise up my head
As the weed, I'm a hard
I envy the worm that strolls happy
Taking of the world, the vast measurement
All this Unknown looked so dangerous :
Many times, it returned shortcut
Then ... after all, it pushes back to life.

But why this shadow which angers?
The sun suddenly disappeared
And what is the naked hand
Who shot me and tear me?
Now, it puts me in a bag, in the street
A truck stops, takes and empties out it
Null doubt, it seems to me clear
My big trip, this is the beginning ...!

I would like to add it’s not easy to write in a language that one doesn’t speak. Therefore when reading this the original language will express this person the best. ♦Website’s owner.

No-Prompt Thursday-Four, Letitia Minnick

Letitia Minnick

Event Entries Jun 2, 2013

Mounting Anticipation

Like stones on velvet
silent and shimmering,
the words lay
scrutinized under the poet's loop
scoured for inclusions,
imperfections, and
irregularities.

Pretty pieces,
precious but as yet unadorned,
patiently wait
for their proper setting.