55 to Enchanted Oak and Steveroni

Listen to your cries at night

Hold a candle to the light

Throw open every window in sight

Capture hatching thoughts in flight

Accept the wrongs you can’t make right

Arise today to win one fight

Aim higher than the imagined goal’s height

Release the demons guilt and spite

Face each addiction as a blight


This is a flash fiction poem in exactly 55 words.  Join us with our host Mr Knowitall HERE  Post on Friday, and visit one other 55!  This is a response to Enchanted Oak's intense and honest series this week HERE and Steveroni's farewell to blog land HERE

Wordless Weds. = Tuesday Toes. Trick or Treat

Smell my feet, give me something good to eat!  (crab, anyone?)



Photo: Thanks to Kim.
I'm speechless and MY blue toes are working on their Avatar costume....hee hee hee.....

Sunday 160, Look what the low pressure system blew in

clear horizon a day away

I want to be

where sky touches trees

the wind whips my face

the ground meets me

scrambling granite

shouldering pack

leaning back

into the sky


Photo: D. Gross.

This is a flash fiction poem in exactly 160 characters with spaces included, all I have time for by the way.

Visit our host for the Sunday 160, Monkey Man, HERE, write your own, post on Sunday, and let him know!  My doesn't that feel better?

Wordless Weds. = Tuesday Toes

After our early rain, in a region known for drought, my rose bush explodes with a second generation.

Each bloom goes out to my friends with breast cancer, survivors and fighters in the front lines.

by any other name, she still smells sweet

 Here is a poem for my breast cancer survivors:

such a bloom to caress, a velvet mew.
stems uphold, even cut through.

thorns exposed, outside of you.
nectar infused, elixer to renew.

water to quench, in droplets of dew.
rosebuds to kiss, one
or two....!

(for some reason, our photo upload for Tuesday Toes doesn't work tonight)

Sunday 160, leadership

Terrified by too many of them, holes in the tactical plan, only a backup prevented casualties.

I surrendered to a tiny hug, & an adoring grin after Sunday School.

(This is a flash-fiction poem in exactly 160 characters, spaces included. I cheated with the ampersand.  To try one, or see more, visit Monkey Man HERE . Post on Sunday, and let him know!)  For those fellow bloggers who follow me, these are rarely fiction.  I write what I know, and what takes me deeper into life by observing..........

Rapping with Buddha

What I want now

has nothing at all

to do with anything more

I can do for anyone else

other than myself.

And it has to be more
and it has to be now
and it can’t be for nobody
but for myself.

What I wanted was
never a reality
and never received
and never even asked, for
fear of disappointment.

I've always asked less
and hoped for less
and expected less
to be happy with less…
than what I ever wanted.

Now what I want
is connected to everything
and connected to nothing
but that which I hunger for
and am driven to want.

What is satisfying?
…addiction to wanting
fuels the hunger for wanting
for more than enough,
when life ain’t so fulfilling.

And it will be more
and it will be now
and it won’t be for nobody
but for myself.

Or else I’m not alive,
and I won’t find my path
and I won’t feel like anyone
and I won’t be myself.


Still seething from the turmoil in our community, but keeping my writings to myself.  Here is an older poem filled with agressive drive.  I'll need all the drive I can get, to leave behind Macbeth's "Gentlewoman" and find my center with the Buddha.

Wordless Weds. = Tuesday Toes

No poetry today, but a question.  Have you ever felt like you've had a second birthday?  A "rebirth" worthy of commemoration every new year?  I think mine is 10-10-10.  I have many reasons why, some too private to post here.  But here is a fun reason why:  I choose it as the start of the second half of my life, as a birthday of my own decision.  It has a logical reason for a landmark, it is 9 months exactly after my 50th birthday.  If we look at the average life expectancy for the year 2060, it might be 100 years of age!  (Whether that statistic is for those born that year, or of a certain population, I don't know.  I just looked at points on a graph and continued the graph another 15 years forward, and 10 years older.....) 

It is food for thought.  I am impressed with the 90-year-old women I meet today!  So, don't get me wrong, I don't want to live to be 100, just looking at the 2nd half of my existence with a new life....

What would be your second birthday?  Write about it.

Sunday 160 Accepting Motherhood

Solitary night

walled insight.

Hissing words

the dragon came.

Faced it unslain

burned to the core.

Ride its back

anticipate each tack

dousing fires

my offspring

devour.


This is a flash fiction/poem in exactly 160 characters, hosted by Monkey Man, post on Sunday, and let him know HERE .
This is VERY metaphorical, and no, my offspring are not dragons!  Three events brought the reality of motherhood to my awareness, and a dragon image emerged.  First, the "calling" that I would not be a spiritual leader after high school, but a mother. This was God's message to me, on a retreat.  Second, the actual labor and delivery should have killed me, and the courage to continue naturally felt like walking through dragon fire.  Third, the dangers our children face are sometimes self inflicted, by accident or intention, from playstructure fires to drinking and drugs.  The dragon flies on......

55 flash fiction friday, what am I?

I resonate like a drum:

Thrum thrum, thrum thrum,

singing in stone cellars

to echo my abandon.

I satiate hunger in a tick of time:

for those seconds “we” become mine,

like a flash in a pan.

I warm like bellows on a coal

from a torch at the core:

into the chest, from the hand.

This is a flash fiction poem in exactly 55 words.  Meet the challenge by G-Man at Mr Knowitall HERE  , let him knowitall, and visit one other 55. Post on Friday, if you dare!

Wordless Weds. = Tuesday Toes

Inner beauty isn't easily seen.  We have many hidden qualities, some ugly, some beautiful, some useful, some freakish.  I produced offspring with this webbing between his toes.....and yes, he IS the best swimmer in the family!

What hidden quality do you have, making you unique?

Microfiction Monday: Point of View

Cloudy skies, from an isolated tower, view a barren lake and land.  By taking her hand, soaring in winged embrace, seek your silver lining.

This is a microfiction story/poem in 140 characters or less.  Visit Susan at Stony River HERE for details, other entries, and try one yourself!

Sunday 160: Creektrash

Homeless mattress

two tire swings

strange glass bong

a Mexican Pepsi can

recycled,

styrofoam saved from ocean gyre

sludge-filled baby bottle

a gnome

re-gardened.




(My 3 teen boys participated in an annual community cleanup day, with the Boy Scout troop and the rest of the town.  This swing-set was still here, 4 years after our first cleanup day!  A bit of found poetry and found humanity.)

This is a flash non-fiction prose poem, written in exactly 160 characters, spaces included.  To meet the challenge hosted by Monkey Man, post on Sunday and let him know HERE