I thought it was
Brick and mortar
Walls and windows
Rooms and furnishings
That is a falsehood
It is your stance beside me
Vertical and horizontal
Your shouts and whispers
Frowns and winks
Your heart and soul
Where you are
There is my home
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It’s Quadrille Monday at dVerse Poets Pub and tonight De Jackson (aka WhimsyGizmo) invites us to give it a wink at a Quadrille (a poem of exactly 44 words, not counting the title) and include one word. This week’s word: wink.
Cass was a nightmare in white silk and pearls. Well half a nightmare. There was nothing to do but be attentive to the child as she enjoyed herself. It was all her father’s fault. He fell asleep on the couch last night watching classic horror movies. Cass came down for water at a pivotal scene as the title character walked down a street slinging mayhem about and a new idea was borne.
Unbeknownst to us parents until the moment she came down the steps she had made a few changes to the costume. Half of the lovely white dress was runny with red food dye and corn syrup – thank you so much internet for telling my child how the original movie did it, by the way. Though the movie character did not wear pearls, Cass being Cass insisted on them for her remake. The tiara was split in two and half hung tangled in her strawberry blond hair. The pearls, tiara and her hair was also spayed with the gooey mixture down half her body. It limited where we went because I could not find enough trash bags to cover the car seats enough to drive to around other neighborhoods, but she deems it worth it – so okay.
I knew it was going to be far from a breeze to get all that goop wash off, but I have to admit she did a fantastic job of it all on her own. Two mornings ago, she was all about the pretty princess: lovely white dress and a tiara and pearls. Only half of that walked the misty streets now as we stepped around the tossed eggs and toilet paper draped tress of the tricksters while we go treating. My creative daughter the very pretty Cassie on one half of her body, the very terrifying Carrie from the movie on the other.
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Written for:
Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie | First Line Friday: October 26th, 2018
We’re given the first line, the rest is up to us. This week’s opening line: Cass was a nightmare in white silk and pearls.
The Sunday Whirl | Wordle 375
Eggs, Breeze, Misty, Attentive, Child, Drive, Movies, Sling, Runny, Find, Corn, Spray
Use at least ten of the words in a poem, prose or story.
This lady takes the early train
Wiping sleep from my eyes
To come back home again
Wash, rinse and reprise
Decades now spent
Chasing the enterprise
Of the adage
Early to bed, early rise
Not mentally healthy
Certainly not wealthy
And questioning the wise
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Tonight at dVerse Poets Pub Kim asks us to write a Quadrille (a 44 word poem, not including the title), using the word “Early.”
“One for sorrow, two for mirth.” John raised his champagne flute, “May your joys always double any pain’s worth. Sláinte!”
Gregory stood and gave him a solid hug. Mycroft reached out and took John’s hand in both of his in thanks. Naturally, knives were taken to the crystal champagne flutes for the newlywed couple to kiss amidst the applause and various calls of cheers that filled the room after John’s best man speech.
It was a beautiful sunny late afternoon secular service. Gregory acknowledged his now husband’s atheism by not having an overly religious ceremony. Mycroft acknowledged Gregory’s belief by having a Catholic priest officiate and bless their union. He even managed to keep a serene face as fingers dipped in holy water made the sign of the cross on his forehead, though he had squeezed the hands of an amused Greg a little tighter for the duration.
“I was reasonably in fear that smoke would black smoke would seep through his forehead at the contact point for a short moment there. I was damned sure the bible the priest had Sherlock hold open would go up in flames.” John teased a bit later.
“I thought I heard a sizzle for a second, honestly.” Sherlock added with wry self-depreciation, “After all, I had not touched one since I pretended to be a vicar to get into Irene Adler’s place. The gilded tome did seem to be warming
A beautiful sunny afternoon had turned into an equally beautiful moonlit night.
“The close of your toast, John. Where did you get the rhyming sentiment?” Mycroft asked the former army captain.
“The first part one for mirth, two for sorrow was something I heard my Mum say at weddings. I ad-libbed the other part just then. You two have gone through the wringer and then some to get here. You deserve this happiness today and more.” John grabbed a passing champagne flute and raised it to the brand spanking new newlyweds.
“It was lovely close. Thank you, John.” Greg grinned as he took the last champagne flute on the tray by a waitress in passing. He took a long sip before he locked his arm through Mycroft’s “So, shall we continue making the rounds my husband?”
“We most certainly shall.” Mycroft grinned at Gregory. “I have to say I do love the sound of those two words from your mouth.”
“My husband” Greg repeated with a smile, then gasped lightly.
“Gregory?” Mycroft turned at the odd sound.
“I imagine you thought you’d never hear anyone say those words to you did you, brother dear?”
The four men paused and turned to the waitress who spoke.
John dropped his champagne flute and immediately pulled his gun on the escaped homicidal psychopath.
“Eurus!” Sherlock stared at his sister in shock. “How?”
“Too bad it will be the last time.” the woman smiled.
“No!” Mycroft cried in horror, his eyes solely on Gregory, as his husband, the champagne flute he had held and his world simultaneously collapsed.
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Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie | First Line Friday: October 12th, 2018
The line for this week is: “One for sorrow, two for mirth.”
We’re given the first line, and we get to write the rest.
Summer died that night.
The audacity of the calendar saying otherwise meant nothing.
It had amused Felipe, greatly to hear the Marisela joyfully speak to their daughter.
Marisela loved the idea of being able to show her daughter the rooftop. Her grandfather, Mateo, had maintained the coop for the live pigeons. Her grandmother, Soledad, made the colorful clay ones which decorated first their roof, then eventually the neighboring ones as well. She said each original piece were reflections of her mood at the time. Some were lovely and sublime – she’d happily tell you what joys caused those occurrences if asked. Others were terrible deformed monstrosities – granted, no one ever wanted to probe into the mood that persuaded the creation of those and she never told.
Each year she received a special one for her birthday. Those were always beautiful. One was rose colored, it was her favorite. She named it Summer.
A child of fast times and the nightlife, her mother, Alejandrina, did not have the temperament for the pigeons live or clay. She never understood the big deal people made over them. Marisol remembered how her mother had scoffed when her grandmother claimed she had no control over her art. Marisela herself did not understand until the first time Soledad sat her in her lap at the pottery table, turned it on and placed her hands in clay, then whispered “Solo crear desde el corazón/Only create from the heart.” Marisela’s art is in containers and figures, not pigeons. Still, even after Soledad passed away, each year Marisela made one just for her grandmother on the woman’s birthday.
Marisela had spoken of this all to their daughter from the moment they knew they were expecting. Before they even knew they were having a daughter she was addressed as such, Marisela was so sure.
Rubbing her gravid belly, Marisela was holding Summer in her hands, talking to their daughter as always when the first pain hit.
Her psyche raw, Marisela now sits on the rooftop no longer aware of the pigeons, clay or real.
Any span of time passed was vitiated by of a soul that never came to term.
Felipe would give anything to hear Marisela’s joyful voice again.
Summer and their daughter died that night.
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The Sunday Whirl : Wordle 366
idea, span, audacity, aware, probe, granted, spoken, deal, control, turn, terrible, term
Use at least 10of the words in a story or poem.
Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie: Wordle #208
rub, psyche, vitiate, rose, receive, occurrence, persuade, rooftop, nightlife, monstrosity, clay, pigeon
Use at least 10 of the words in a story or poem.
Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie: First Line Friday: August 31st, 2018
Summer died that night.
Use the given line as the opening to a story or poem.
Picturesque, the dame gives name to her state
A classic beauty of the Art Deco age
That is recognized everywhere
Each day the dame shows off her golden base
While each night shines on top
Sometimes in diamond white
Most times adorned in colors
Honoring what’s dear to her
The sleepless met the dame on Valentine’s Day
The fit 86 their sanity each year to reach her
The observant see her in 102 stories
The dame is renowned the world over
Being among the first of her kind
For her stately height
And redefining animal magnetism
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For tonight’s OpenLinkNight at dVerse Poets Pub I give some love to the enigma that is The Empire State Building.
dVerse Poets OpenLinkNight #221
There should be no sound, so you can hear me
Yet I hear your voice scream out, in the silence of your love
Its timbre pains me, its timbre thrills you
When your yesterdays haunt you, in the restlessness of night
Would you accept me as balm? Let me be tomorrow’s peace
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TANKA / SUPER TANKA
The Tanka is an ancient form of Japanese poetry. Tanka are 31-syllable poems that have been the most popular form of poetry in Japan for at least 1300 years. In Japan, the Tanka is usually written as a straight line of characters, but in English and other Western languages, it is usually divided into five lines, with a syllable count of 5-7-5-7-7.
The key to the Super Tanka form is that it is two Tanka written side-by-side. Each can be read independently, but must work together as a whole.
dVerse ~ Poet Pub |
OpenLinkNight #220
