I walk alone among the stones, Their names worn away By time’s embrace. I lift my face to the midnight mist And sea kisses sweep across my lips, Tempting me to the tide. Silhouettes from another realm, Dance demonically across the sand; The rhythmic darkness swallows me. Waves soak my shoes; Shadows hold my hand, As I stare into infinity’s abyss. A vessel cuts a sharpened shape, Separating from the stars; My mind plays tricks, While my heart beats scarred, For I know you float Upon that ghost ship, So near, And still so far.
Welcome to my Friday afternoon paint chip prompt. There are other paint chip prompts out there, but they’re very precise in what they ask for. Mine is open ~ write a poem, a story, a memory, whatever you like. Take your inspiration this week from Valspar’s “sea kiss” and/or “ghost ship.” Tag your post Paint Chip Friday, or PCF, if you wish. Prompt will continue until December 31.
As my sister before me, I went down to the pond; The gypsy predicted my true love would be found Around slippery stones and silvery fish And he would awaken from my sweet virgin kiss. These men had been cursed by witches of old To exist as mere frogs in the muck and the cold Until the time a pure maiden such as I Unsealed their fate with a touch and a sigh. I chose a small, unassuming green toad Whose gaze followed me as I paced to and fro; He seemed to be the one meant for me, So I touched my lips to his skin gingerly. At once he changed from creature to man, But then not a thing went according to plan: Instead of a noble or a knight strong and brave, This was a demon come up from the grave, A green-eyed evil one to steal my heart, His visage handsome, his soul burning dark. Now we’re bound forever, this monster and me; I mourn every night when no one can see.
Image from Pixabay. Poetry form is rhyming couplets (multiple). Written for Tourmaline’s Halloween Challenge.
“Hey, Lori! Guess what?” I grinned as I clicked on the email. “We finally got the results of Wesley’s DNA test.”
“Thank God,” Lori muttered. “Now we can find out if he’s really blood related to us. Honestly, Chris, I hope he isn’t. The idea of being his sister is too creepy, especially when Mark and I are trying to get pregnant. You know some of those scary traits can be passed on.”
I nodded. “I hear you. When I was little, I pretended not to know him in elementary school. I didn’t want the other kids to know I had such a weird brother. But then they threw him out of school, so I didn’t have to worry about it.”
“For setting those fires, right?” Lori asked.
“Mm, and other… things. But he always denied doing any of it. Said he was being set up.” I entered my password and clicked through the menus on the site. “I’m just glad they took hair because there’s no way I was gonna get him to spit in a cup.”
“He’d probably spit in your face!” Lori laughed. “Of course he denied it. Typical of psychopaths.”
“OK, he’s a quarter Irish and a quarter German, just like my test said.”
“Ugh,” Lori growled. “But does he match up with you in the relatives’ section?”
I scrolled down. “Hang on. He’s twelve percent Norwegian, eight percent Belizean, and… what’s this?”
“What???” Lori peered over my shoulder.
“He’s six point six six percent jackal.” I stared at the screen.
“Explains a few things,” Lori said, her breath hot on my neck. “Seriously.”
This cat is no novice At dreaming of a better place; Every day he makes his escape To the wide open plains, Where he preys as he pleases, Master of all that he sees. Fantasies beckon, Like catnip flavored candy, When he suffers once again From a half filled bowl And the bitter reality Of someone else in control. Don’t they know he is king, The terror of each living thing? Where is the respect For his status and crown? Ah well, best to lie down, Drift away in his mind Until it is time To meow for a treat.
Written for Simply 6 Minutes (took me a bit longer). Poetry is free verse, 100 words.
Melanie finishes the month with a bang of new questions…
1. What’s your favorite way to exercise? (if you do or don’t. Exercising one’s mind is a valid answer IMHO, because that’s my favorite).
I do exercise my mind fairly often via games and reading and art appreciation, but I try to exercise physically too. For me, this means gentle stretching and light walking. I also like to dance, but since I’m bad at it, I mostly indulge alone.
2. What’s more important to you – family or friends?
Obviously, if I were forced to choose, I would say my family. Nothing is more important to me than my two daughters, and by extension my grandchildren. But luckily I don’t have to choose, so I am free to say that my friends are a very important part of my life.
3. (a segue of sorts from last week’s SYW)..Have you ever voted for someone (in whatever venue – politics, contests, school elections) based solely on how they looked?
I hope not! But do we really know? Biases toward people who look more like us, however you define that, play a role (consciously or otherwise) in our selection of friends, lovers, and representatives. It’s not a coincidence that 45 out of 46 presidents of the US have been white men. You may say it’s not the voters’ fault if the choices all boil down to white men most of the time, but why are white men predominately given more opportunities to rise to the top than anyone else? That is an issue which needs to be addressed.
4. (silly one) How could carousels be spiced up so they are more exciting?
Oh, lots of ways! How about a girls’ night where you ride double with a hero from a romance novel? You could have a sexy pirate or a dashing duke or a gorgeously rich snd handsome CEO. You could also choose your costume as well. And the ride would last longer than 3 minutes, hehe, plus continue on after dismount with a romantic cruise through the tunnel of love…
5. Please feel free to call share something you’ve enjoyed about this September.
September is always my worst month for migraines, but they weren’t as bad as usual this year. Perhaps that has something to do with climate change, since it also didn’t get disgustingly hot and windy here. So I have enjoyed a relatively OK month in the pain department.
Far be it from me to criticize such a colossally successful writer such as Dean Koontz, but I gotta be honest… I gave the last book I read of his (The Other Emily) only 2 stars. Sure, it was “exciting” as his plots often are, but ugh. If you’re gonna write about an impossible thing, you can’t just gloss over the details, and you especially should not “fade to black” at the climax. What the crap is that? I felt like I was staring at that cartoon where one side of the board is filled with a bunch of math and the other side says “and then a miracle occurred.” Yep, Dean relied on the miracle to make his story work instead of explaining to us how the future humans, who were sort of aliens, time-traveled and created a new Emily. I am so done with him (which I have said before, I know).
But he’s not the only one. I read 2 books by Colleen Hoover this month and gave them both 2 stars. They were about evil women who ruined a man’s life, and, like the Emily book, they also suffered from crazy situations that Hoover failed to adequately explain. In Verity, a mentally ill wife/writer who has murdered her daughters convinces everyone, including the best doctors, that she’s a vegetable, while she plots revenge against hubby and his new love. How did she fake her own X-rays of her brain? Oh, let’s not dwell on that! In Layla, the soul of an insane, murderous ex somehow takes over the body of a guy’s new girlfriend, he finds a ghost helper on the internet, they figure out a way to switch the real soul back in, etc. It’s all preposterous, not to mention vaguely disturbing that a writer is so fixated on the evil woman theme with no real acknowledgement that these men were no prize. I’m done with Hoover as well.
I gave The Singing Trees by Boo Walker 2 stars also. It just went on and on, churning up ridiculous drama over nothing. Every character was absurd. I toyed with giving it only one star, but then I felt guilty. I did read the whole thing, but that shouldn’t be the deciding factor. I have quit many books before I hit the 10% read mark, and those I don’t rate at all. Not that my reviews probably mean much, since I rarely write anything these days in the body of the review, but I keep track of the stars in my spreadsheet where I list all the books I read. Is that OCD? Well, how else will I know when I hit 100 books for the year (up to 85, thank you)? I no longer belong to Goodreads because of all the spam and garbage I received there.
Anyway, it’s time to get tougher with my ratings on these Kindle Unlimited books. Beware! The one-star ratings are near!
This takes the cake… I mean, the burrito. These crazy people want me to model for their new cat cafe/bookshop and I’ve had just about enough. They interrupted my nap, and naps are precious. I only take 4 a day now, down from 6 when I was a kitten. OK, granted, each one is 5 hours long, but hey I am a cat, which brings me back to my– ooh, a spider! Too bad I can’t pounce on it and kill it to bits because I am literally a purrito. That’s their word, which they think is hilarious, and they can’t stop laughing about it. Ridiculous and undignified! I am a cat. I am a top predator. I should not be wrapped in a fake tortilla, for heaven’s sake. I am not a silly supermodel, and they aren’t paying me enough to pretend to be one either. In fact, are they actually paying me anything? Sure, I get a cozy place to live, lots of bookshelves to hide in, and gourmet food twice a day, but I have to think about my retirement. I won’t always be this young and spry… I need to put something away for the future. Perhaps I will spend my golden years in Acatpulco. Get it? I’m not going to share my pun with the cretins. It’s all mine, as is everything really. I’m wiggling a bit in my paperito to loosen it up and giving the edge a sharp bite or two in the process. Ah, freedom! What to do first. A smidge of lunch, naturally, and then a nap. GET THAT FLASH AWAY FROM ME! Geez, these folks don’t know when to stop with their cameras, do they? I need my meow-time…
I wander aimless, Nameless, My identity stripped; A mystic misfit, Neither flesh, nor ghost, Nor succubus host, I burn like fire Bereft of desire. I weep like snow, Drifting t’ward home, Shunned, exiled, I’ll stop here a short while…
There are a lot of songs about obsessive love and fantasy, even to the point of stalking. But a funny thing is that in art and fiction, stalking is more tolerated than in real life. Often we’re even rooting for the stalker ~ we hope the object of their desire eventually falls for the stalker as well, as opposed to getting a restraining order. I’ve been mildly stalked in email/text/phone, and even that low level is upsetting. You don’t know what they’ll do next or if they’ll escalate it to something scary in person, so it keeps you on edge and worried 24/7. Luckily, all that seems to be over now. I’ve been obsessed with people too, but my stalking/fantasizing has always been clandestine and I doubt any of them even knew I existed.
The song I’m choosing for today’s MLM prompt is “Marry Me” by Train. It’s the kind of mindset I can really relate to ~ sitting in a café, dreaming about a life together with another regular, even though you haven’t even exchanged a word yet. She probably doesn’t even know he’s there. But those are the best kind of fantasies, in my opinion, where messy reality never intrudes to ruin your dreams. “Marry Me” is on one of my favorite albums ~ Save Me, San Francisco, which was released in 2009 and went platinum. It was written by Train’s Pat Monahan and reached 34 on Billboard’s Hot 100. “Hey Soul Sister” made the top 10. That’s also a fabulous song and so is the title track. I listen to this album a lot! The video is beautiful, though it doesn’t exactly capture my take on the song…
Together can never be close enough for me To feel like I am close enough to you You wear white and I’ll wear out the words I love you And you’re beautiful Now that the wait is over And love and has finally showed her my way Marry me Today and every day Marry me If I ever get the nerve to say hello in this café Say you will
Meet me under the midnight moon, When all the stars come to life; Trees pose in a gracious swoon, Welcoming the bold and the shy. Clouds gather to celebrate This union of dark and light; Call it love or call it fate– Open your throat to the skies.
Image credit to Lovethispic. Poetry form: double quatrain.