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Silent Drift
December 1, 2017
— 1 Comment
Amos 5:24
The squeeze is on the middle class, the workers’ families
Will be brought up to sacrifice for the war machine
The overlords hold education over the heads of the population
Bringing slavery into closer focus for specific purposes
The reign of ignorance and terror begins in the classroom
But ends with the death of liberty and justice for all
Salt River
Inquisitor
November 17, 2017
— 1 Comment
haunted gate
Contrary and contorted, the inquisitor retreated
To study the rules and regulations for details
To bribe the authorities to seek the maximum
Penalty for betraying the monarchy and the court
Treason and heresy had been found in high places
Now the entire population had to fear for the future
Chaos had consumed the wealth and the wisdom
Once widely respected in this now violent place
Leaving widows, orphans, haunted institutions
Of what was once called being on the right side of history
The Inquisitor
Paradox Passage
November 8, 2017
narrow passage
metallic angel
Between the walls of the ruined buildings plants grew wild
Some metallic angels flew over the houses and smiled
Merry pranksters fell down laughing long after the joke
Any resentment or anger had long ago gone up in smoke
Vintage remnants of times that will not be remembered
Scatter over the narrow path like a fire burned down to embers
Night Riders
November 7, 2017
Stagecoach
The coach pulls out at midnight to fly around the hills
The riders are invisible and the driver feels the chill
Of the howling wind as it whips through his bare bones
The stagecoach is a spirit vehicle with a will of its own
The destination is always kept secret until the horses stop
Then passengers are invited to the free store to shop
They rummage through the past, the deeds they left behind
The burden of past mistakes is magically lifted from the mind
They leave the area on foot with new paths to discover
Each one has witnessed transformation from which they will never recover
Free store
#WritePhoto Tower Of Power
October 12, 2017
— 9 Comments
Tower Of Power
The Roman army built the arches, aqueducts, and city streets
Then conscripted the local constabulary, farmers and priests
They marched off to conquer and manage all humans and beasts
The emperor demanded tribute in service, and taxes paid in gold.
The able bodied were enslaved and abducted to serve the will of Rome
It is hard to say which one issue caused the empire to crumble and fall
Maybe that imperial power concentrated in one place was never real at all
The ruins of foundations laid down long ago are remnants from the past
Mighty political forces appear and disappear, never meant to last
#writephoto
This poem is in response to this week’s photo prompt on Sue Vincent’s Daily Echo. Join us each week to read, comment, or submit your own take on the photo. I think this poem is also inspired by today’s political climate.
Tom Petty’s Last Show
October 3, 2017
— 4 Comments
Tom Petty had some final words for his audience in Los Angeles, California as he closed out the last concert of a world tour. “I wanna thank you for 40 years of a really great time,” he said. One week later the rock legend would be dead, after suffering cardiac arrest in the early morning…
via Watch the Final Moments of Tom Petty’s Last Ever Live Show — TIME
#WeekendCoffeeShare Shift Change
September 24, 2017
— 3 Comments
When You Are Engulfed In Flames
If we were having coffee in Tucson this weekend I would invite you to sit down in the living room with a cold iced tea. It is lovely weather now, with a little bit of chill at night. You probably think of this as summer weather, but for us it is a big deal to have highs below 100. We get all excited when “sweater weather” arrives, sometime in October. I have switched my hours at work in order to be there early to harvest outside. This is a fun change of pace. I am, however, having an issue with lack of ambition when I arrive home. I was finishing all my fitness activity and writing before going to work in the morning. That way I can relax when I get home. Now I am all about relaxing when I get home, but have not finished my own daily tasks. I must apply some discipline to make this shift change work. I am slacking on everything but my job.
The clearing out of the barn across the street is going very well, with only a few more personal items to move and review. I have thrown away loads more useless, outdated paper files. Just this morning, I found something I really wanted to find. I bought some amazing double sided cashmere fabric in Paris about 15 years ago. It has been in a plastic box for the last 10 years, with a couple of little pieces of cedar wood to repel moths. Lo and behold, the cedar works and the fabric is much more than I thought it was. I am lucky it is all still in perfect condition. Now that I have kept it so long I must find the perfect use for it, but not so perfect that it takes another 10 years to decide. I am thinking of a long reversible wrap skirt. I have one in silk, and think it is classy. My new motto is use it or ditch it for a clutter free life. It is time for this heavily hoarded fabric to get to work clothing me.
If we were having tea I would tell you I am behind on all my office work, which includes blogging. I excuse myself during this time because closing my real estate deal and finding space for all the stuff I want to keep is the most important task I will complete all year. I think once this job is done I will gratefully return to by diligent practice of writing. My financial load will be lighter, and my office will be better organized. The one task I have completed ahead of schedule is the payment of my real estate taxes. I am delighted to be paying about half of the tax bill I have had for the last 10 years. This makes me feel super happy and free. In 3 weeks my erstwhile tax burden will be another family’s future home. Everyone is a winner in this deal.
If we were on our second glass of iced tea I would ask how life and writing is going in your world. I hope you are more focused and productive then I am these days. I am listening to David Sedaris read his book, “When You Are Engulfed In Flames”. This does inspire me to try creating memoir again. His stories make me laugh out loud. When I finish his book I will dive into an eighteen hour course on the history of ancient Rome. Listening to different kinds of books on my audible account makes my work day zip by quickly. I get a lot of “reading” done while doing my job. There is a contest to produce a 30 second promotional video for audible telling how you use it. The winners will be awarded new Volvos. I am seriously considering entering this contest. Have you tried audio books? They are my new favorite thing.
#WeekendCoffeeShare
Thanks for joining us for this digital beverage party. Join us to read, comment, or share your own week with the crew. Follow the hashtag #weekendcoffeeshare on twitter to join the party.
#WritePhoto Refraction
September 15, 2017
— 4 Comments
Patterns
When the light streamed through the glass we could see the patterns on the ceiling and the walls. The old stairway stood at the center of the building. It was the grand entry to the upstairs office suite of the wizard. Guests would be met at the front door by the secretary butler, then shown to a small waiting area to be announced to the staff on the upper floors. When the bell rang the wizard was ready to receive petitioners. The group filed up the stairs in silence, taking in the opulence of the place. When they first got a glimpse of the altar they usually gasped in shock. The wizard knew how to impress with all the right lighting and stage effects.
There was always a pattern. The wizard demands tribute, or proof of loyalty in return for his miracles. The petitioners start out on their quests for glory with full faith and a joyful attitude. They return without figuring out to what or whom they owe tribute and loyalty. After much tribulation the wizard reveals himself to be a fraud with no power at all. The power he endows is the lesson of the master trickster. Once this lesson is learned, the petitioner has solid confidence in his own ability to find the right answers.
He still keeps office hours at the top of the stairs. Knock three times with the big dragon door knocker, and you can still be admitted to the chambers. Make sure you ask to go home, and don’t get stuck in the holding pattern of illusion. His game never changes. Some say he is just a collection of habit patterns. Others say he is a hologram. See for yourself, but set firm boundaries, or you may become lost in the reflections and refractions.
#writephoto
This is a piece that has been inspired by Sue Vincent’s weekly photo prompt. In her blog, the Echo, we gather to share impressions on one of her intriguing photographs. Join us by reading, commenting, or writing your own fiction or poetry inspired by this picture.
#WritePhoto Light
September 7, 2017
— 8 Comments
light
Storms blew around the island all summer long, keeping the family inside the cottage much of the time. The tedium and tension of being cooped up with members of the family we rarely saw was grating on everyone’s nerves. We had little to discuss, so we talked about the miserable weather and the past when everything was better. We remember childhood sailing regattas and foot races on sunny days. We played croquet and walked to the village for ice cream when Grandma was alive. Now her cottage was musty, moldy, and dark, used only for a short family reunion each year. There was talk of selling the property and splitting the money. People today want different types of vacations.
The hall closet was still full of board games, dominoes, and cards. We prepared for the storms by stocking up on basics, and choosing our games. It was impossible to know how long we might be trapped without power, so we prepared for the worst. Monopoly was a big favorite for the group. When we found the Ouija board we had to test it for old time’s sake. Two of the cousins unpacked the board and sat across from each other at the coffee table. They asked the board all kinds of questions about Grandma and our past. We wanted to know if we should sell the cottage, so they asked the board if this was a good idea. Almost instantly there was a large clap of thunder close to us. The cousins’ hands moved the pointer quickly to the words Good-Bye.
ouija board
ouija board
This was puzzling to everyone, since there had been no answer to the question. We all wanted the money but for some reason nobody wanted to be the one to convince the others to sell. We thought it was disrespectful to the memory of our grandparents who built it to sell it to strangers. We went to sleep pondering the fate of the old home as the whole thing shook and creaked in the thunderstorm. Finally the rain stopped after two days of pouring like cats and dogs. As the sun peeked through a cloud we took a walk down to the water. The cottage and the future were still under discussion when a vertical ray of sunlight shot out from a cloud on the horizon. We stopped in our tracks and stood silent watching this light stream down from heaven toward the sea. This was the message the ouija board could not give us. This bright spirit was telling us that our grandmother had long been liberated from all her earthly goods, including the cottage. She had no need for it now, so we could do with it as we pleased. We all began to feel much lighter as we released our need to keep things we don’t even want. Thanks, Grandma!
#writephoto
This story is based on the photo prompt from Sue Vincent in The Echo. Please join us to read, comment, or write your own post inspired by these photos each Thursday.
Small Hex Poem
September 5, 2017
— 1 Comment
Witch’s Brew I made a wish Upon a casserole dish, For my cauldron was at the menders; The handle was broken And it just wouldn’t work It just stood there on the ground; It made me feel like a berk; And I couldn’t borrow Brenda’s (As it was wash day). So, I resorted to Pyrex […]
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