Feverish now, thrashing among sodden sheets
grown bristly and coarse, soaked with salty tears
in a tangible horror of torturous linen…
no smoothing touch of pumice could relieve,
to sharply barbed cloth…once satiny to the touch…
The dying man’s angular body wracked with agony,
viscous sweat turning waxy his once swarthy skin
as rigidity overcame and replaced malleability.
“Oh! Let me die!” he entreated those who
could do nothing else.
A gun, dark and dreadful,
cold steel caressing the unwilling hand
seductive music of silence and pain…
among bloody ravages of the plague
as dancing creatures
defy the promise of the Tarot foretelling the kiss
that comes forth—
levitating, tentatively echoing
the sparking retort of the pistol’s release
of a penny’s worth of death.
Here’s a Wordle that I’ve been working on. I like these prompt-forms so much that I write them down in my notebook and work on them when so inclined. Here’s one I worked on for a long time but haven’t gotten it published on my blog. The twelve words given are: apple, frigid, pain, gall-and-wormwood (deep resentment,) dive, cinch, halfway, grime, wind, vintage, pause, and Palinoia ( compulsive repetition of an act until it is performed perfectly.)
Vintage memories pause halfway
on the stalled turntable of
Palinoia’s imaginary grime…
brought on through “gall and wormwood”
that eats my craw and forces me
to dive into the frigid apple wine
that dulls the pain and
quiets the howl of the wind.
I like to use the Wordle words for poems, although any literary form is acceptable. Wordles are great fun, and anyone is welcome to join in. Yves Morrow, the owner of the blog always welcomes contributors to his various and daily prompts…or any visitors, there is some really excellent material found here. https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/
Here are some pictures that just tugged at me to create while walking through my entry. They are twelve-inch natural stone tiles. I never noticed the (featured photo) before, but once the face popped out at me…at least three faces in fact…I knew they were perfect for Cee’s Odd Ball Photo challenge. The eye just seems to adjust for the scene.
These shots remind me of mountain and desert terrain, the color scheme of the Southwest. What wonders do YOU see here, boys and girls? I’d love to hear….
I am unique among my peers
having arisen from the Winter
more or less intact… if a bit bedraggled.
One might say the word—disarray?
to describe broken remnants
and staring, bleary rimless eyes
askew and discolored
arrangement of my limbs and leaves,
disheveled scraps of nascent green
tones, silky serrated edges of hemline.
Better days have been….and will be again
and my modest Winter garments
will have fallen to the ground.
Please don’t judge me—for who among us
can preserve the beauty and newness of Summer
beyond the ravages of rain and snow
and Cold from the relentless winds?
You are invited to return in half a year hence,
and feast upon my resurrected beauty
as new green foliage and velvety petals
of red and white roses prevail.
A grey Cygnet has lost its Mum
adrift on a branch of fennel.
A tad of soft nectar escaped from a bloom
inexplicably left by a passing Sparrow…
serves well as emergency forage
against hunger pangs, until Mama’s return
to bandage the Cygnet’s distress.
The sunlight reflects beams of light
which belie the clarity of vitrified matter
embodied in clear bubbles of resin.
No I really don’t need another blog. I am happy with SOMETIMES, which is a conglomerate of photos, poems, eclectic ramblings…and contributions from other bloggers who have consented to allow their posts to be re-blogged here.
I admit that the temptation to tinker with WordPress blogs is almost over-whelming, always searching for the perfect blog. I invest each year in a Premium site, which means choosing great colors and various innovations that make a blog…well, unique…in the intended use of the word to mean “one-of-a-kind”—not “unusual,” or (god-forbid) “amazing!.” Sorry, I am not trying to be the grammar/vocabulary/Nazi….it’s just that I hate the misuse of perfectly good, precise words.
This new blog, which I am naming “AMONG OTHER THINGS,” is not a Premium blog, although if I find myself using it frequently I will upgrade. Just choosing the colors alone is worth the cost.
[Here is my entry for MindLoveMisery’s Tale Weaver #105, The Dark Side
The challenge is to write a horror tale, something dark and scary (if possible…asking for “scary” is like asking for “humor.”) I usually don’t write this kind of thing, but here goes….]
Some call them “entities,”
the mysterious forms that appear
out of the dark identities
that linger beyond their time to disappear.
Would they remain if the light fails
when the switch malfunctions
or a passing cloud the bright moon pales
or if we freeze before we give in to compunctions?
Or if our night visitors are figments of imagination,
as we reassure our waking senses,
would the benefit of a new orientation—
like turning our backs to them—compense?
Just think, how a chilly shiver might give us pause…
if Mr. Poe’s “tapping,” instead of just a black bird,
had been in fact a creature’s pecking claws,
an unspeakable thing from a mired pit, so untoward.
So what if the cloudy caricature figure (our entity,)
solemnly menacing from the dark places beside our bed
would not fade into nothingness at flash of first light…
but take form of the night terror within our head?
ever the scapegrace (his position aside)
given no quarter of tolerance
for sudden nicotine cravings…
mealy-mouthed and queasy from years
of parapraxis and gelatinous back-bone…
he longed for a fusion of wit and wisdom
to complement his vast popularity.
Then at last came the day that a spark
took flare and he enacted a non-smoking law
of dubious but far-reaching value.
As we walk along the darkened trail
pine needles crunch beneath our boots
giving pungent aroma into the night.
Lanterns glow beyond curtained mist
we laugh as an owl a “good evening” hoots.
We take the trail to the river edge
where trim gardens hide their colors
as they gather rest for tomorrow’s sunlight.
The moon parts clouds to reveal the bridge,
silhouetted demurely against midnight sky.
The horn of a passing ship on a mystery trip
captures our fancy as we breezily speculate
on excursions we still might have taken—
these are the things… a sigh, a kiss…
form memories that linger in clear view forever.
As all two of you know, I LOVE Wordles! Wordles is a feature of MindLoveMisery, and I enjoy doing them. I search for them on the MLM site, and write the word list in my working notebook, and work on them when I have a chance. Sometimes it is an extra challenge to make a story or poem using all of the twelve words given.
With a mysterious scapular fetish
caught in a maze-like web,
a necroscope’s lover lingers…
his mistress an ingénue:
a beautiful vandal
in scarlet sandals
regretting a soupçon of elephant’s tusk,
to constitute a nod to preservation.
* Wordles are a favorite exercise. I enjoy the challenge of attacking a list of a dozen random words in a given list, and creating a work of writing. So this is my entry for WORDLE #128, originally published by MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie. https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2016/11/07/wordle-128-november-7th-2016/
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