Careful What You Look For

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#SOL2017

#SOL2017

I am a born and bred New Yorker and a daily mass transit commuter. Part and parcel of this are the mornings when I may encounter a group of police officers performing random searches of bags. This happens at my local station several times a year, while I have witnessed others randomly selected to have their bags searched I myself had not been stopped before. Until the day I really, really should not have been. Oh, the deities do love to laugh at us mortals, no?

When the officer signaled me, my first instinct was to balk. I mean seriously? Of all days to be selected! Please note the situation: me – a fat black woman, clearly dressed for work, carrying a leather cross body bag with embossed skull adornment and a zipped leopard print shopping bag, certainly looks as though I am in possession of potential bomb making materials, to transport via the subway nonetheless- staring down several gun-toting NYPD officers who indeed looked friendly enough, but let’s not get it twisted, I am most certainly offering my bags for inspection. I huffed at the inconvenience of a missed train, but then I remembered exactly what I was carrying.

In my mind I could hear a Greek chorus of certain friends yelling “Rai BEHAVE!”

However, my ever-present demon did Olympic worthy somersaults on my shoulder as I bit down the urge to grin while I handed my bags over and took a step back from the table.

“But of course officers, here you go.”

Oh, this is going to be such FUN! 

A younger friend of mine, slowly coming into her sexuality, wanted to go “toy” shopping. As she was new to this, instead of randomly buying things online, I had suggested we go to a brick and mortar store where she can actually see and touch a few things.  Let’s just say that after an hour or so the end result was my friend, and a couple of others – who overheard me explaining certain things and wound up in our conversation, spent a lovely amount of dollars there and the salesgirls wanted to recruit me. Which was all well and good until I got home I realized I had her purchases with me because in spite of it all she was still too shy to be in the street carrying a bag with the store’s logo emblazoned on the side, announcing to the world where she’d been. We agreed to meet in the morning at a station downtown to drop it off. I placed the items in the leopard print bag to be nice to her. I now watched as an officer slowly unzipped the bag and took a peek inside.

I knew the first thing he saw was the brand spanking new dildo, still in its package sitting at the top. His mouth dropped as he gasped, turned all manner of persimmon and looked up at me.  Of course this got the attention of the three other officers working with him who naturally had to take a look. It seemed as almost one they all slowly looked from the bag to me in expressions ranging from What kind of shit is this? to Oh my God! to Well, hello there!

“That’s not mine. Would you believe, it’s for a friend?” I teased, Maxwell Smart coming to mind as I shrugged a shoulder, knowing damn well what they believed.

It took everything I had to keep a straight face as a different officer took a pen, moved the dildo over to look further into the bag only to remove his hand and look up at me anew. I suspect he saw the – well never mind what he saw.

“Now, that one is mine.” placidity was my name as I arched a brow at him. He grinned. It was lethal. It was beautiful. I reminded him he was married, to the amusement of his comrades as the first officer quickly zipped the leopard print bag and handed both bags back to me.

“Enjoy yourself.” Officer Smiley’s grin was divine as, per protocol, he held the emergency door open for me to go through as I earn a free train ride as payment for the inconvenience of being detained.

“You saw what was in the bag; you know I will.”  I purred as I went through. The officer’s laughter followed me as I went down the escalator.

I was on the train, pulling out my iPod, when it amused me to realize that in the surprise of the toys found in the leopard print bag, none of them actually checked my purse.

To paraphrase a classic: be careful what you seek, you might find something unexpected instead.

Whoops!
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10th Annual Slice of Life Story Challenge! – DAY 2

The Distance

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I cringe at the horizon that gives me pause as I sit on a crescent ledge and stew over the possibilities. There be giant monsters here.  I only need to travel a short distance, but the terrain from when I last visited this place has changed. The comfort of the familiar, now replaced by the exotic of a new clime.  Longanimity among my kind has made me tough, but cautious. I know how dangerous it can be, but I will not let fear be the pasty jailer that holds me back. Belatedly, I remember I was out in the open while my mind filtered through various strategies when the world vibrates in sound and a rapidly approaching darkness looms over head.

I’ve been seen by one of the giants that roam here. Death is all but a certainty when afflatus strikes and I make a run across the emerald landscape for the crevice ahead. The blast of air that propels me toward my goal is only equal in terror to the noise of the impact narrowly missing where I just stood.  I skitter into the narrow space between counter and the oven, hearing the giant bellow in frustration as I drop out of reach.

swat-green

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Yes, this from the view of the cockroach.
I fully bless (blame?) the Wordle graphic for the inspiration.

wordle-145

Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie | Weekly Wordle #145

Crescent, Exotic, Ledge, Longanimity, Filter, Stew, Pasty, Afflatus, Emerald, Jailer, Cringe, Noise

Use at least 10 of the words to create a story or poem. The words can appear in an alternate form, in any order that you like.

Be Mused

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#SOL2017

#SOL2017

Morning commute, I am sitting in a corner seat when muse strikes. It’s a crowded train, there are people are all around me. Really Calliope, now? -Or was it Erato this time? Either way, darn Muse! It’s annoying, but personal experience, aka the hubris of Oh, I’ll remember this later to write it down has taught me harsh lessons to not mess with the Muse. They graciously bestow at their convenience, not yours, and will cattily take it away have you not the guts to heed. I have also learned, type now edit later. Spell checks, grammar checks, syntax, style can all be fine tuned later. No matter how disjointed they initially seem, there will be nothing to fine tune if I don’t get the lines down first.

Thus, I pull out my tablet try to capture the stream of consciousness that are their gifts as they rain down.  I barely remember to look up to check stations every now and then so I don’t miss my stop.  In order to hold my tablet properly as I type means my elbow slightly encroaches into the personal space of the person sitting next to me, but I pay it little heed as I type/cut/copy/paste/arrange.  I am approaching my station when I stop to pack up.  It’s a little ways from finished, a long ways from polished, but I have to stop and hope I can recapture that mood to finish it right at a later time.

Later that morning, tablet in hand, I am exiting a Starbucks when I see this a guy coming towards my general direction. He stops short when he sees me and breaks out into a grin. With that grin he goes from coming towards my general direction to coming directly towards me.  There is no question that he’s coming towards me as he waves his hand, nods and points directly at me in response to my Who me? pantomime. There is a vague familiarity to him, but my mind won’t quite make the connection and I have time to kill so I wait until he reaches me.

“So, how’d it turn out?” His hand waves in the general direction of my tablet.

Uh, what? While I have no idea what I was expecting him to say, I guarantee it was not that. It must have shown on my face.

“Saw the poem you writing in your tablet and…” And click… The missing piece falls into place as I recognize him.

He got on the train about a third of the way in my commute, then got off at the same station as I. This was the person sitting beside me on the train, whose space I invaded as I wrote. While I was not hiding my words as I composed, I was not inviting them for casual perusal either. Still, he liked what he had glimpsed. He did not want to interrupt and in the rush of disembarking, I disappeared into the crowd before it occurred to him to stop me. Not expecting to ever lay eyes on me again, and resigned to not knowing the outcome of the write, now that he has seen me he was curious and could not help but ask about the finished product.

We chat for a bit where he acknowledges the creepiness of reading as I wrote, but hey we were on a crowded train, can’t say that I blame him. I likely would have done the same were the roles reversed.  I respond that I have not finished, sometimes a complete write drops fast, some have to simmer for a bit before I think they are ready for the world to digest. I give him the URL to this blog to peruse at his leisure and eventually see the finished product. As we part ways what is the first thought that enters my mind?

Hey, this would make a good Slice!

And so we begin – Day One down, only 30 more to go.

As for that poem? Well, that one is still simmering. You’ll know when I know.

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10th Annual Slice of Life Story Challenge! – DAY 1

Say “When”? Nope.

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I pride myself on my verbal rapier wit and bon mots voiced with a skill set comparable to the precision of how Venus and Serena Williams serve tennis balls. However, my written voice, while loquacious once its engine starts, will on occasion ride shotgun, take a backseat or sometimes even hide out in the trunk when it should at the ignition.

In spite of it all, , as wonderful regular followers of this blog know, I participate in various poetry and flash fiction challenges each week. Add to that I am a regular -I won’t lie and say weekly- participant in each Tuesday’s Slice of Life Writing Challenge. And because I simply glutton, I am also a part of #52Essays2017 where I submit –you guessed it- an essay each week. Clearly, I must be a closet masochist for personal writing.

Thus when I saw the email reminder earlier today that tomorrow is March 1st and Day 1 of the annual March Slice of Life Story Challenge, it gave me pause. 31 consecutive days of writing personal vignettes of my life, when I can barely remember to participate weekly. 2016 was my third year in a row participating, and my best year as I only missed posting three days, but I did miss three days. Can I do better this year? As I take into consideration, my considerably more than two cents, in all the other challenges I have a toe in, do I even want to go for it?

Oddly enough a classic Kenny Rogers song is what pops into my head as I ponder:

You’ve got to know when to hold ’em
Know when to fold ’em…

Is it a sign that this song popped in my head and became an earworm? I mean, sometimes you have to know when to say ‘When”, before you wind up saying “Uncle!”, right?

…Know when to walk away
And know when to run

Oh Kenny, I hear you, but I will not heed your words of wisdom here. I really am a masochist for writing after all.

See you guys tomorrow…
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Let’s see how others are slicing it up this fine Tuesday:
sol
Slice of Life Writing Challenge|Two Writing Teachers

Same Coin

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There is something of a bitter taste for what happened at the Oscars this past Sunday. And no, I am not talking about the Warren Beatty – Faye Dunaway – “LaLa Land” – “Moonlight” craziness. “Moonlight” won, some poor twit’s head will roll because of  Twitter, and in the end a worthy movie most worthy of it won the top honor.

Moving on…

Hollywood loves an underdog and that is why the academy was all too keen to bestow Casey Affleck with the Oscar for Best Actor for his widely lauded role in “Manchester By The Sea”. He’s practically a living breathing Hollywood trope: constantly overshadowed by his megastar big brother Ben Affleck, he has spent years teetering on the precipice of movie stardom, clawing to make a name for himself. And then there’s the controversy.

Years ago Affleck was accused of harassing two women on the set of the mockumentary “I’m Still Here”. Both claimed they were subject to inappropriate sexual comments and unwelcome advances saying Affleck recounted his sexual exploits, attempted to psychologically and physically coerce one into staying in a hotel room with him overnight, and ordered a crew member to show her his genitals. At the time, Affleck denied the allegations and countersued. He later settled the case out of court to the apparent satisfaction of all involved parties. But as this year’s Oscar race heated up with praise for Affleck’s performance in “Manchester by the Sea”, though already known, his unsavory past was brought to light again. Clearly bringing up Affleck’s past at this point was a clear attempt to link his alleged off-screen transgressions with his awards fate. But the rehashing occurred after the movie was released and the buzz had a chance to build be heard nationally. And Casey Affleck can ow add Oscar Winner to his resume.

Years ago Woody Allen might have molested a child, and has a tenuous at best hold in public opinion. Yet, even with that cloud over his head he continues making movies with high-powered stars and winning Oscars.

Years ago Roman Polanski was arrested and charged in Los Angeles with five sexual offenses against a 13-year-old girl and other charges upon a child under 14, and furnishing a controlled substance to a minor. Polanski pleaded not guilty to all charges, but later accepted a plea bargain in exchange for a guilty plea to the lesser charge of engaging in unlawful sexual intercourse. And though he avoids stepping foot in any country that extradites to the United States, yet manages to win an Oscar.

And then there is Nate Parker…

Years ago actor/director Nate Parker and his then-roommate were accused of raping a classmate. According to court documents, after a night of drinking at a party, Parker, his roommate and the victim had sex in Parker’s room. The victim, who said she couldn’t remember anything from that night, insisted the sex wasn’t consensual, while Parker and roommate claimed that it was. Long story-short, Parker was eventually acquitted of the charges.

And for heaven’s sake I am not, repeat am NOT, repeat AM NOT excusing anything any of these men have allegedly done. This is not about what they may or may not have done, but how Hollywood reacts to such.

Nate Parker, though not a household name, has had steady career acting in other movies. It was not as if Parker’s past was not known, it was, but he wasn’t a big enough yet to bother him with it. But Nate didn’t know his row, he didn’t stay in his place. Worse he dared to taunt Hollywood by taking one of the most controversial movie within its archive “Birth of a Nation” and not only retell it, but did an undeniably magnificent job of it to boot! There had not been this much talk about a racially charged movie in since Spike Lee helmed “X”. It seems this could not stand.

With Polanski, Allen and now Affleck the talk of their pasts emerged after their movies were released to the public and given a chance to be seen by many. Not so for Parker whose past resurfaced right before the potentially Oscar-worthy movie was set to be released nationwide. All talk became about his past, not his movie. Effectively knocking him and his movie out of any chance of Oscar contention. Please remember Nate Parker was acquitted. Acquitted. In a court of law, but not in public opinion. And only when his star was set to rise high did he get the smack down.

For there is nothing Hollywood likes more than a breakthrough underdog. In fact, Hollywood adores an underdog and controversy. Hollywood courts controversy like a courtesan. Unless that underdog, that courtesan, is a black man, with a controversial movie and is a potential Oscar contender. Ask Roman Polanski. Ask Woody Allen. Ask Casey Affleck. Ask Nate Parker.

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Writing Our Lives #52essays2017 challenge – Week 9
52essays2017
A year-long weekly personal essay/memoir/creative nonfiction writing challenge. To learn more about this challenge or to participate, check out Vanessa Martir’s website and learn about it.

Spring Kiss

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Hearts journey open
as dawn
rose on cue
to jar clouds
lull leaves green
with spring breeze
that curls, melts in
shimmering dance

Shadow scars gone
a grin bubbles
whispering
in ghost giggles
that twists, mists
our warm breath

Lips skip, spill and spark
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An added challenge by De for this Quadrille#27 prompt night at dVerse: Writing The One With All the Words used in Monday Quadrille challenges.

Our Q44 word list so far:

dance, lull, bubble, grin, melt, shimmer, twist, skip, green, breeze, spill, rose, journey, jar, leaves, open, shadow, cloud, spark, cue, breath(e), scar, curl, whisper, dawn, ghost, giggle

I could all but hear Calliope say Psh! Bring it! I can’t remember that last time a poem fell into place so fast.

dVerse ~ Poets Pub |  Quadrille #27 The One With All The Words

Let Me Be There

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Sometimes life just isn’t good,
Nothing feels right, nothing feels like it should
Let me be the one you call
Let me be there

It’s the Tree of Life, we all get to climb
But you may feel you’re out on a weak limb
If you jump I’ll break your fall
Let me be there

Abandon the flaws, just forget it
But never give up on belief in mirabilia, let it
Lift you up and fly away with you into the night
Let me be there 

When you feel the apotropaic fail
I can hold you close should you want to wail
If you need to fall apart
Let me be there 

Let me be the lucida of your soul
Should the darkness baldly enter, grow to take control
I can mend a broken heart
Let me be there 

Hey, it’s plausible that you’re only human
That there will be days when it’s just more than
If you need to crash, then crash and burn
Let me be there 

We’re all in this through tense and tender
So on the days that you feel different remember
You’re not alone
Let me be there
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Italicized lines from “Crash and Burn” by Savage Garden
Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie| Music Prompt # 75 “Crash and Burn”

Bold words from:
Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie Wordle #144 “February 27th, 2017″

Good, Enter, Tree, Mirabilis, Different, Abandon, Plausible, Lucida, Bald, Flaw, Apotropaic, Grow

Use at least ten in a poem or story.

Real Toads: The Tuesday Platform

Giggle it Just a Little Bit

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Your most solid guffaw
Should be against the law

And so should your laughter
But it’s not what I’m after

For it’s something
Most comics can bring

It’s that adorable jiggle
That’s only there when you giggle

Now that is a delightful thing!
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Today at dVerse De Jackson (aka WhimsyGizmo) asks us to have a giggle on this Quadrille Monday – when we write a poem of precisely 44 words, not including the title, and including a given word giggle.

dVerse ~ Poets Pub |  Quadrille #27

What Matters

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Gray Matter:

a) To know what we are doing here.
b) To know what it takes to hear your hoarse cry of what’s mine.
c) To know the touch of your goosebumped flesh so prime.

Pink Matter:

a) The feel in depth of what I’m doing to you there.
b) The sense of heat from your breath against my spine.
c) The copper tang taste on my lips from your bite sublime.

Indigo Matter:

a) We deign to call out the deities to compare.
b) We give envy in the scent of us to those divine.
c) We acknowledge their rhythmic moans as comets come in time.

What Matters?

a) In gray dare.
b) In pink shrine.
c) In indigo chime.

Answer: All of the above, my love.
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At Real Toads we’re asked to use a new form -well new for me- The Multiple Choice poem.
The challenge is simple. Write a poem in the form of a multiple choice test. The whole poem could be a test, or you could insert a multiple choice some where into the normal structure of a poem. Since we’re still in February, I went with that loving feeling (with sincere apologies to the Righteous Brothers).

Imaginary Garden with Real Toads – Out of Standard: Multiple Choice

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dVerse ~Poets Pub | OpenLinkNight #190

 

MLMM: Atriocaval Shunt

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Can I live without him? Unfortunately, yes.
Will I want to? No. God, No.

I sit here and listen to the beep of the heart monitor. It used to be a most gall and wormwood noise before – when it was attached to someone else. It is the most wonderful sound in my world right now. For as long as I hear that sound, that beep, I know his heart still beats, and as his beats – so does mine. Because he is my heart and no one ever wants their warm heart to be attached to a frigid heart monitor. It was so touch and go in the beginning, he coded twice in the ER. The damage to him was that massive. And I sit here by his side, again in the fruitless mental exercise of how we got here.

My bike was showing its age; I didn’t trust it enough to participate in the upcoming Annual All City Cycle so he and I were at our favorite bike shop perusing for a new one.  I was looking at a ridiculously expensive silver and carbon frameset when he called my name to check out a vintage apple red Schwinn that was on display near the showcase window facing the street. I turned just in time to see a car careening towards him at a rapid speed. A woman having a massive heart attack, lost control of the vehicle and crashed into the window of the store. It was less than a heartbeat’s pause – just time for me to scream, not enough time at all for him to dive out of the way before the car jumped the curb, shattering glass panes and my world into a million fragments.

I have been here nearly every day and night for over three weeks now. Our assistant Margie has been such a godsend, showing her talents by holding down the fort at the office in a cinch, but I can see the strain is beginning to get to her. We will give her one hell of a raise once we are back at the office. I will feel so guilty if the business falls into a less lucrative position that what it was before all of this happened. However, its potential failure will not appease the guilt I will feel if he awakens and I am not here. I have only left his side to shower because it drives me more than halfway insane – the grimy feel of being in a sterile hospital 24/7, and yes, I appreciate the irony of it.

There is a difference between sympathy and empathy and you learn it at times like this. Most of our clients are sympathetic, but business is business – they want theirs taken care of, and logically, I understand that. Yet I take one look at him lying there and I could not possibly care less right now.  One of our overseas clients, who had gone through what I’m going through now, sent over a nature sound machine. When I called to thank him and ask why, he says that he had used one when his wife was in a coma a few years back.  He does not know if really worked, but what could it hurt, right? I checked with his doctors first, who also agreed it couldn’t hurt, so I have played different sounds over the past few days.

Tonight, to accompany the palinoia of the heart monitor, I chose wind and rain sounds as it reminded me of our last trip to the coast a few months back for a different race.  A really great picture of us leading a pack of cyclists had made the papers and I pulled out the folded-up copy I always carry with me and grin. I remember the moment the shot was taken, the concentration on my face was less about the race and more about me not stopping to cuss him out yet again. That day had started out with rain and a three hour long argument, but ended with sun and our engagement.

Listening to the sounds and reminiscing, I fall into an exhausted sleep. I wake with him holding my hand.

Wait…he’s holding my hand…

I slowly move my hand to be sure and feel the grip tighten more.

My head pops up to see him smiling at me and I hear the raspiest, but most wonderful sound in three weeks, outside of the heart monitor.

“It’s about time you woke up.”

mlmm-cyclists

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Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie | Weekly Wordle #143

Apple, Frigid, Pane, Gall and Wormwood, Dive, Cinch, Halfway, Grime, Wind, Vintage, Palinoia, Pause

Use at least 10 of the words to create a story or poem. The words can appear in an alternate form, in any order that you like.

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Writing Prompt February 19th – Randomize!

For this week, we are asked to seek inspiration in random places. What does that mean?

1st  – Use the Wikipedia! Random Article button, and the article you get, is the title of your write, in my case Atriocaval Shunt.

2nd – Go to http://writingexercises.co.uk/random-image-generator.php, to receive a random image. Post this image and connect it with your written piece. I feel the Muses, especially Calliope, were being ridiculously generous to me when the bike race image came up. Thus the above story.

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Real Toads : Tuesday Platform