Damn Reality
Here I go again reading
Bukowski’s clear vision voice
poems lacking picturesque pastoral principles,
with plainly different aesthetic dispositions
of attitude nobody loves.
We know that deep inside,
his way is part of us;
part of him, hides in us.
How many ways
can we paint the same picture,
or tell the same story.
Look both ways reading anyone’s poems.
Mind the gaps hiding deep within when writing your own.
Mistress Rochelle gave us a double dose of reality today as she announced her recovery from the dreaded COVID CRUD with one of her photos. Nothing can keep her down for long. But the lovely flowers and get-well balloon should inspire us to find the words to tell our own story.
Click on Rochelle’s bouquet for a lift to her page to scope out the rules and regs of the game.
Genre: Military Fiction
Title: Friendly Enemies
Word Count: 100
***
Timo and I were life-long enemies. We always argued and fought. Didn’t know why.
Fatefully, after graduation we ended up in the same platoon. One night on recon walking about ten feet behind the point man, Timo shoved me and whispered, “You’re too close. Spread out!”
Just as I put distance between us, the point man tripped a mine. I remember the flash and loud blast.
I awoke in the hospital to a bouquet of flowers: yellow carnations, white snapdragons, buttercups, purple and violet petunias, and orange lilies.
The card read, “Keep friends close, enemies closer. Get well soon. Timo.”
***
Look both ways for friends and enemies, discernment is key.
Mind the gaps, it may not be what you think.
What would you send your enemy? To know why I used those flowers, click here.
When does it happen, if it happens at all?
The innocent child becomes a troubled teen,
Then a vicious young man with an M-sixteen,
Or a rivetted young woman focused on his fall.
Is this the formula of a coming dystopia?
Is the excitement of the fight so much greater
Than desire for tranquility and gods’ opium?
Is power over people the dark masturbator?
Some change. Many don’t. Over time
We all morph and grow to some degree
For better or worse, but will I ever be free?
Human life’s permanent paradox of paradigm.
Look both ways with conscious contemplation of then and now.
Mind the gaps for lessons of fortitude,
not the comfort of fear.
You can only die once, Bukowski notwithstanding.
Today the marvelous maven of Friday Fictioneers tempted us with a majestic photo of scenic waterfalls by David Stewart. What one-hundred-word (or fewer) story does it inspire you to tell us?
Click the pic to swim on over to Rochelle’s purple blog for the rules and to sign up for future email notices.
Genre: Romantic Fiction
Title: The Big White Lie
Words: 100
***
My fiancé and I hiked into the forest and up to the beautiful, dramatic waterfall scene.
She said, “Look how beautiful, Bill—proof that God exists.”
I took a deep breath. “Yes, Babe. It’s a wonderful gift of nature. No poem would be enough. Thanks for bringing me here.”
“Bill, I’m not sure about us marrying.”
“Why? Because I’m atheist? You want me to lie?”
She said, “Yes. Or at least don’t tell anyone. It’s embarrassing.”
I kissed her cheek. “I’ll think it over, Love.”
She looked puzzled. We left.
Her parents still think I’m a dad-burn heathen Yankee Catholic.
***
Look both ways as you decide what is most important and to whom.
Mind the gaps around the falls and in concerns of the heart.
This Prosery is written around a line/sentence from a Facebook poem called, Notes on Uvalde. The dVerse line chosen by Lisa was, “These are the things they don’t tell us.”
To read other prose responses, click HERE.
My First Experience
I was barely 20 years of age and newly married when on August 1st, 1966, Charles Whitman, after killing his mother and wife, packed three rifles, three pistols, a shotgun, 700 rounds of ammunition, food, coffee, vitamins, medicine, earplugs, water, matches, lighter fluid, rope, binoculars, a machete, three knives, a radio, toilet paper, a razor, and deodorant. He went to the observation deck of the Main Building Tower at the University of Texas at Austin.
Whitman killed 14 people and injured 31. He was shot dead. For 18 years, it was the deadliest mass lone gunman shooting in U.S. history. It was unthinkable.
Whitman had sought professional help for “overwhelming, violent impulses;” fantasies about shooting people from the tower. He told them what and where. These are the things they don’t tell us.
“I wish I didn’t know now what I didn’t know then.”
Look both ways. To the beginning and to the end (if there is one).
Mind the gaps as you live in this moment of grave concern with sadness or anger.
To see the Notes from Uvalde poem and Prosery rules, follow this link: https://dversepoets.com/2022/06/06/dverse-prosery-how-many-more-will-it-take/.
I Admit It
Sometimes I don’t understand, or
(and it’s not the same thing)
I misunderstand, hoping
somehow to be brought
to correction and truth,
by way of clarification,
minus animosity.
Like one day
writing to prompts.
A young lady made clear
her (pre-pandemic) intention
to complete
the several months long hike
of the Appalachian Trail,
Georgia to Maine.
Starting in February,
finishing in May (unlikely),
by hiking
twenty-seven miles
every day for months.
She had done eighteen miles in one day,
no more; none
during March or July
on a rocky or muddy ascending trail.
I wanted to say,
that’s a marathon a day,
every day, for at least three months
(more like five to seven)
bearing a pack, food, and water.
But I didn’t. Is it for me to say?
Lest I dash her dream with reality.
Is it for each person to discover
our dreams? To defeat challenging demons?
Not with wisdom but with grit.
Each of us must, on life’s long wander,
one day, one step at a time, take the risk.
Look both ways on every trail.
Watch where you step and mind the gaps lest you find a limp.
Follow your dreams.
Wisely.
Booklovers
Unlike the discomfort people feel toward harmless book collections, fearful of those pillars of civilization, even dumb readers are smart. Readers aren’t rich, poor, intelligent, or stupid. They zestfully relish reading books like the ignorant cling to guns and unread bibles.
Look both ways and cherish lifelong learning. Mind the gaps and be who you are and what you are, enjoy life, and read on into eternity.
Happy June, y’all. Today our friend, Lisa Fox, purveyor of dao and Daoism, productive blogger extraordinaire, unafraid of flair and finer hints of purple, partners up with Mistress Rochelle to present an interesting photo to stimulate our story telling senses and to help us with a one-hundred-word escape plan.
Click on Lisa’s pic to escape on over to Rochelle’s page to see how it’s done.
Genre: Fiction
Title: Boys in the Belfry
Word count: 100
***
After the Army, we snagged this great side-hustle with awesome pay and bennies.
I remember telling Jimmy.
“Wait until he’s halfway down the ladder. Empty your clip up his ass. Get the picture and ear. We meet Warren in the belfry at eight.”
Jimmy said, “No problemo, Mister Sunshine. You be careful chasing him. He’s a bad one.”
I walked to the front, checked the address, banged on the door, and yelled, “State Police. We have a warrant!”
A lovely lady opened the door. I heard muffled shots. “I’m sorry, Ma’am. Wrong address.”
I turned and walked to the church.
***
Look both ways for an entry and exit.
Mind the gaps in the escape.
And remember, cops never knock.
I’ve decided to kick the Monday Rune a week down the road because today is Memorial Day in the USA.
My mother still called it Decoration Day even long after 1971, when Memorial Day was declared a national holiday. If you want some good information and background on the day, click HERE.
On this and every Memorial Day, I hope Americans remember what it’s factually all about. It is a day of memorial, a day to honor and remember people who died in service to the country.
Saying happy Memorial Day is inappropriate, but curbing that gets more difficult every year as more people lose sight of the purpose, which I consider unfortunate, if not sad. While it may never be incorrect to thank a veteran for their service, this day is about the dead, not the living. Veterans Day in on November 11th each year and it is totally correct to say happy Veterans Day, which is also a national holiday.
There are entire vet organizations set up for exactly this purpose: to get it right on Memorial Day. While there is a lot of hoopla, sales, and military prominence on this day, the purpose is still to memorialize the dead. I hope we don’t forget that.
Brenda Cox threw in with the ever-mystical mistress of purple, Rochelle our belle, who took time from the pool to deliver this refreshingly cool love shack photo to inspire one hundred words of well mused Friday Fictionary to charm and warm all readers.
Click on the PHOTO PROMPT by © Brenda Cox to outrigger on over to Kansas City’s most swimmingly artistic native, the maven of purple, Rochelle Wisoff-Fields’ addicting blog.
Genre: Twisty Memoir
Title: Escape
Word Count: 100
***
I walked up to the bar and told my lady, “I’ll have a piña colada, please.”
She smiled and said,
“If you like piña coladas
And gettin’ caught in the rain
If you’re not into yoga
If you have half a brain
If you like makin’ love at midnight
In the dunes on the cape
Then I’m the love that you’ve looked for
Let’s plan our escape.”
I replied, “I never knew. Meet me tomorrow noon, At a bar called O’Malley’s.”
Me and my old lady been on the run since then, never fallen into the same old dull routine.
***
Look both ways and love the love
of musical tunes and magical lyrics, especially 70s tunes.
Mind the gaps and put a wedge of pineapple with the rum, coconut, coco lopez,
and suck it through a fat straw.
***
***
If you’re not familiar with the piña colada song (Escape), here it is with lyrics. Hopefully, this works for everyone. Cheers, y’all.
Our Literary Journey 