Left, Right, Left
Loudly, we would wrangle well into the wee hours.
Gene and I would worry all but us; uneasy friends, smok-an’ drinkin’ buds
with different ways we saw our world.
Not even—no more.
Look and listen both ways. Lean from friends.
Mind the gaps of age and wisdom, our unforgiving nature.
***
I Lied to Me
His first words,
“What will you get?”
With such words our brother
accounted for decades of silence.
“He can’t help it,”
I’d tell myself.
“It’s not his fault.
He was raised like that,”
I told myself.
“Forgive him.
He’s your big brother.
He should be your hero,”
I still tell myself—
Not some pitiful old man
Who’ll never understand why,
I told myself, again.
Our sister’s bequest
was that he suffer
as he caused her, but I couldn’t
let her love lapse, I told myself.
Look both ways with family and friends.
Mind the gaps, but learn to live without them.
I came up with an acrostic.
Hopeless romances never die from
Eroded unrequited loyalty, nor
Awkward, embarrassing, green jealousy.
Thankless deceptions give us
Hollow empty feelings of
Eviscerated, torn, pride; and
Ruined trust.
Look both ways, especially if 27 is your “lucky” number. Mind the gaps for unfounded fears and feelings of unrequited love.
The video is Conan Gray talking about his song, Heather, which sort of inspired the poem.
Note: I used the noun form of rectify in the title and three synonyms in the piece. Mia culpa.
Rectification
His heart and hers, broken, they had caused their own tragedy. Together, they moved forward, not on, using glue of the gods, Mars & Venus, to correct, reform, and amend repairs. Their common desire: love.
***
Look both ways to “mend a broken heart”.
Mind the gaps for “misty memories of days gone by.”
My inspiration.
Thanks to Rochelle @ Rochelle Wisoff-Fields-Addicted to Purple for another Friday Fictioneers inspiring Wednesday photo. Her weekly challenge is to write a story of 100 words or less based on a photo prompt. This week’s inspiration is provided by C.E. Ayr.
Genre: (Autobiographical) Fiction
Title: Some Friends
Word Count: 100
***
I was to meet Clair, Jack’s wife, on the movie set. We met for coffee during her break. Clair introduced me to Astrid, who left us alone to talk. She got to the point.
“Bill, I’m leaving Jack.”
I said I was not surprised.
She said, “You’re his best friend. How can you say that?”
“Yes, I am. But I have no idea why anyone would want to be married to him.”
“Bill, you don’t understand. I am leaving him for another woman. You just met her.”
“Oh shit, Clair. I wish I could be there when you tell him.”
***
Look both ways in life and love.
Mind the gaps in close friendships.
Many thanks to Rochelle @ Rochelle Wisoff-Fields-Addicted to Purple for pointing me to another photo-inspired Friday Fictioneers. The weekly challenge she presents is to write a story based on the photo prompt, provided today by Ted Strutz.
My task is to write a complete story in 100 words or less.
Title: One Last Time
Genre: Fiction (Southern Gothic)
Word count: 100
***
Abject fear hit me when I saw his house, familiar feelings founded on my childhood nightmares with an abusive father and an enabling mother.
I love South Carolina’s low country but have few good memories, a good place with fine people. But not him.
I walked the three steps to front door. A gunshot stunned me. I ducked, looked around, then carefully opened the door.
He put the WWII .45 on the table and said, “Safety’s broke. I ain’t goin’ to no death house.”
“Well, Dad, you cannot live here. And you damn sure ain’t livin’ with me. Now pack!”
***
Look both ways for the life you’ve lived.
Mind the gap like a bad dream.
Thanks to Merril (from New Jersey) for hosting this dVerse bar challenge: Prosery Monday: A Time, to which I am responding on Tuesday. Merril says to write prose of less then 145 words in response to this line from the poem “A Time” by Allison Adelle Hodge Coke.
“when it is over said and done
it was a time
and there was never enough of it.”
Genre: flash memoir
Word count: 143
Title: L’esprit de l’escalier
***
Last Fall, I wrote a poem about watching my father drink coffee and smoke when I was a young child. Our father-son relationship improved slightly later in life.
I’d received good reaction to the piece, so I considered its potential for submission. I requested further feedback from a critique group (mostly fiction writers). I was aware of the potential risks, but I wanted to know their thoughts.
One person asked, “I did not understand the last few lines where you said, ‘I figured it out. He did too. In the end, it was just the end.’ Can you explain what you meant?”
Stumped for a good answer, I copped-out with, “He died”—a true but poor response on my part.
Now I could simply say, “When it is over, said, and done, it was a time. And there was never enough of it.”
***
Look both ways for answers.
Mind the gaps in the poetry of others,
it’s where we may find answers.
Now abandoned, there sits an old home
convent campus of providence sisters,
a cloistered retreat,
once a thriving worshiping community.
Now greedy developer fodder,
this sad waste-like memory rots,
loved only by climbing and scratching
brambles of blackberries. There’s
no salvation for the old.
Look both ways for revitalization of the past
and for the hopes of the future.
Mind the gaps for invasive species.
Dream Real
Colorless kaleidoscopic
images,
sounds of heat,
windless breaths
through closed eyes,
defenseless hearing:
run, kick, yell,
stop breathing.
Fight back!
Awaken.
Dream real.
It’s a dangerous world. Look both ways.
Mind the gaps. Watch for guns and teargas.
Day 23 prompt: write a poem about a letter of the alphabet or letters forming a short word.
Words of Woe
You came to save us from distress,
simple, yet smart, and set in Morse code:
dot dot dot dash dash dash dot dot dot,
signaled in sight, sound, or touch.
S O S, an ambigram palindrome with
a beat in songs by Abba, Avicii,
and Rihanna with a telegraphic
message of mayday, mayday, m’aidez.
From Germany to boy scout merit badges
to beach branches and mirrored flashes,
your footprints in the snow, simple,
unmistakable, unambiguous.
A call . . . for help – – – to be heard . . .
around the world.
Sometimes something lifesaving,
too often, distressfully not. S O S.
Look both ways for signs and signals of distress.
Mind the gaps for the meaning of space and time.
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