Thursday Rune: Vet’s Day Poem


Why I am Here

Are we united? One,
indivisible nation
facing all that division
and diversion
has to offer.

When politically
trapped rhetoric becomes
the dark knight, when
lies form gospel,
when logic is lost, when
hate becomes faith,
we form our own
deep “Troubles”
dis-united.

On this Vet’s Day,
let us remember,
and never forget,
why we are here.


Look both ways and work for peace.
Mind the gaps as we make it a better world.

Friday Fictioneers 11 – 12 – 2021

Another Wednesday as marvelous Rochelle inspires us for Friday Fictioneers. We write micro-stories given ideas by a new photo each week, provided by creative and imaginative compatriots. You can read the rules over on Rochelle’s blog and join in the fun. Here is the photo and my story for this week.

PHOTO PROMPT © Ted Strutz. Click for trip to Rochelle’s blog.

Genre: Historical Fiction
Word Count: 100
Title: Blind Man’s Bluff*

If Russians discovered us, we’d be captured or killed as spies. The last we saw before submerging to the bottom of the fjord were escarpments and mountains.

Life in a submarine a thousand feet down on the ocean floor is tense with fear and physically miserable. A whisper meant discovery and death. We sat for days entombed in dark silence.

Our air gone foul; our batteries low; we decided to escape. We started. Slowly, we crawled between underwater mountains.

Then, the skipper’s voice, “We’re clear. Surfacing in international waters. Another day at the office for Cold War bubbleheads, eh mates?


Look both ways as you run silent and deep.
Mind the safety of gaps between glacial mountains.
Learn the endurance capabilities of human life.

***

Click on picture of the Spy Submarine (USS Connecticut) to read other stories from the same prompt.

*Title from the Book, Blind Man’s Bluff: The Untold Story of American Submarine Espionage, by Sherry Sontag and Christopher Drew.

 

dVerse Prosery: Bombarded


Say What?

The doctor’s face was serious as she cut each stitch.

I joked with her. She was quiet.

Then she said, “There! That part’s done.” I caught on—that part?

She frowned, “I wondered why the pathology report took so long.”

I asked, “What are you talking about?”

She said, “The report said the cyst was undifferentiated pleomorphic sarcoma.”

“What’s that?”

“It’s cancer, Bill. We made an appointment with oncology. There’s nothing more we can do. Good luck. I’m so sorry.”

I thought she would cry. I asked, “Can you please say what it is again.”

She repeated the diagnosis.

I said, “I am bombarded yet I stand.”

She looked at me, puzzled.

I said, “It’s from a poem. I often wondered how you folks handled this.”

“They will give you all that information on the way out. Good luck.”

 


Look both ways because life if full of surprises.
Mind the gaps.
Thank medical science and live every day with gratitude.

Click on the image to link with dVerse.

Sammi’s Weekender #234 (Empire)

Click the graphic to go to Sammi’s Blog. There you may read more prose or poems, and you can play along.

Yearning for Old Broadway

The Empire State’s
wonderful people
of the city that never sleeps.
Coney Island, Manhattan,
Central Park, and the Brooklyn Bridge.
That tall building, George M!,
Lady Liberty, the Bronx,
‘the city so nice
they named it twice,’
Gotham,
Broadway Joe, the fucking Yankees
in the Big Apple.
Herald Square, Times Square.
How I want to be there.
Sadly, the day of many hearts
broken by hate.
I love New York!


Look both ways.
Take the Staten Island Ferry and the NYC Subway.
Mind the gap, as in watch your step in the City of Five Boroughs.

Thursday Rune: “Tom”


We were
crew mates and friends,
Tom and I.
He came from
South Carolina,
via the
University of Hawaiʻi.

Partners.
A team of two.
For a couple of years,
we had laughs.
But it ended.

Lieutenant Tom, an enigma,
half of a nuclear bombing team,
a pot smoker,
beer drinker (me too),
almost certainly
a skeptic.

A kind of Buddhist,
politically left,
a sky diving
motorcyclist, and
the class clown.

We were different.
Tom deeper,
more spiritual,
and funnier.

After the Air Force,
Tom became a teacher,
back in South Carolina,
and a renowned
BASE jumper.

An avocation
that brought
an early end to Tom’s life
at the bottom
of a high SC tower when
his parachute gear
failed.

I’ll not forget.
I wish it had been
different. I’d call him.


Look both ways and remember even brief friendships.
Mind the gaps, they sometimes hold truths.

Friday Fictioneers 11-05-2021

Many thanks to the wonderful Rochelle for herding us cats on Friday Fictioneers. We write micro-stories inspired by a new photo each week, provided by very creative and imaginative compatriots. Here is the photo and my story for this week.

Click on this week’s PHOTO PROMPT © Jennifer Pendergast to link to Rochelle’s Blog.

 


Genre: Fiction
Word count: 100
Title: Krumpas Coop


Excruciating pain shot from my foot to my brain. I yelled, “Those damn Legos are diabolical. That hurt!”

Mary yelled back, “Are Steven and Julie there?”

I said, “I think the Krampas got them. The window is open and no sign of them.”

Mary walked in, “Well Krampas knows how to write.” She handed me the note.

I read aloud, “The ransom is a bag of M&M’s, a gallon of Rocky Road ice cream, and two new ponies.”

As I handed the note back, we heard giggling coming from the attic.

I asked, “Do we negotiate with terrorists or Krampas?”


Look both ways and mind the gaps.
Especially when Legos are involved.

Click on Krumpas to read other stories.

Sammi’s Weekender #233 (vellichor)

Click on graphic for hyperlink to Sammi’s blog.

Because it was not in my MW online dictionary: John Koenig wrote that the word vellichor, which he apparently created, refers to “the strange wistfulness of used bookstores, which are somehow infused with the passage of time…”


Dear Enemy

When Jean Webster
lived, wrote, and died,
grandmother was still alive.
Both lives ended
from new life inside.

My century+ old copy
with stains and library marks
has redolent suggestions
of hidden stacks in bookstores.
Vellichor, the petrichor of paper,
print, and the souls
of past passionate readers.


Look both ways as you hold hundreds of years in your human hands.
Mind the gaps in time as we admire the history of the human mind.

Thursday Rune: Halloween


Let the Season Begin

Halloween is coming.
Costumes, children, singing
and tricking for treats or gifts.

Midseason American football,
next is a Marine Corps birthday,
Vet’s Day for live parades,
And the eating of ugly birds.

More football and Black Friday
sales as time to spend, soon
another year is at end, and
off we go to auld lang syne.

After Christmas,
nothing good happens
until Saint Patrick’s Day,
when some damn fool
drinks green beer,
remembering The Troubles.

Halloween,
the threshold of good times,
and New Year’s Day
as we wait out Winter.
Endless beginnings
and sadness of endings.
Spring—the only good thing
about Summer.

The burden of January,
is less than July,
has cause
in mourning the loss
of October’s promise,
the harvest
of November, and
December’s done revelry.


Look both ways along the line of time.
Mind the gaps, bless each day.

Friday Fictioneers: My Sold Soul

Many thanks to the wonderful Rochelle for herding us cats on Friday Fictioneers. We write micro-stories inspired by a new photo each week, provided by very creative and imaginative compatriots. Here is the photo and my story for this week.

Click on this week’s PHOTO PROMPT © Douglas M. MacIlroy to link to Rochelle’s Blog.

Genre: Satirical Epistolary Fiction
Wordcount: 100


Dear Mr. Bill,

Back in 1969, you agreed to our soul safekeeping if you got lucky with one Fancy Fox.

Enclosed herewith please find your damned, odoriferous, devil-moth eaten, blackened, rotten soul.

Our Diabolical Board of Demons directed soul safekeeping be returned to original owners since repossession is inevitable.

Due to Texas PowerGrid uncertainties, the ravages of our dark virus experiment, and subsequent chip shortage, we are terminating soul safekeeping, forthwith.

Please store your stinking, grain alcohol-soaked spirit in a warm, damp, moldy place until we confirm by certification your final demise.

Insincerely,

Wormwood Chinaski,
Human Soul Safekeeping Division


Look both ways, keep smiling,
mind the gaps of the damned, and ride the soul train.

Click on Mr. Wormwood to link with all the other stories for this week.

Sammi’s Weekender #232 (question)

Click graphic for new tab link to Sammi’s blog.

The Weight of Truth

Your question cuts to my core.
You long for unnuanced truth bathed in heavenly light.

Who am I, naked, closeted?
Yet, you ask for the dark light, to know my vulnerable,
captive, and bound heart.

Will my truth set you free?
Shall my vulnerability be set back upon me?
My silent deception belies both truth and trust.

Long sleepless nights.
Regret, haunting wonders of who I am.

If I answer your question the world will hate me.
My truth is heaviness mankind cannot hold.


Look both ways before you answer.
Value truth but weigh the gaps and consequences.