Tag Archives: #lightm0tifs

Thursday Inspiration 13

Welcome to Thursday Inspiration! This is my weekly prompt post and hopefully it will inspire you to write something creative, perhaps a poem or a piece of flash fiction. If you’d like to share your writing with the community, please indulge me and tag your post with #p0eticlicense and/or #lightm0tifs, and of course link back if you wish. I will try to visit everyone who participates. πŸ™‚

This week’s theme is sailing and the picture is below. Here is the song snippet from “Sailing,” written by Gavin Sutherland in 1972 (interestingly about spirituality not romance) and sung by Rod Stewart:

I am sailing
I am sailing
Home again
‘Cross the sea
I am sailing,
Stormy waters
To be near you,
To be free

Photo found on Pixabay

Borrow the Lyrics Challenge ~ Tupelo Honey

I’ve been tagged by Rory of a Guy Called Bloke for a fun new game. πŸ˜€πŸŽΆπŸŽ‰

Rules (as copied from the creator):

  1. You need to choose a verse from a song and use it in an original poem or story.
  2. You must include the name of the song and the singer at the end or beginning.
  3. You need to challenge someone else and invent ONE rule they need to follow.
  4. You must credit the person who started this challenge (a.k.a. PJ) and the person who challenged you.
  5. You must include the rules of this challenge.

Rory’s extra rule is “free thought.”

My song is the beautiful “Tupelo Honey” by Van Morrison, and here is a gorgeous video for you, with lyrics on screen:

Tupelo Honey

Fred threw the final bag onto the boat. It wasn’t all the tea in China, but it was a lot, and he’d reached the weight limit. Each burlap sack contained paper bags full of tea leaves, all bought for a fair price, in various shops along the coast. He planned to sail alone, to maximize the amount of tea he could bring, but at the last minute he’d hired a small crew member who could communicate in English.

“Where are we going?” Liane asked.

“Welp, first we sail right around all seven oceans.”

Liane gaped at him. “You’re shitting me. In this boat? I quit!”

“Okay, okay.” Fred tried to calm her down. He really didn’t know much about sailing. “Maybe we skip the Arctic.”

“It’ll be monsoon season in India soon.” She rolled her eyes.

“Fine,” Fred said. “We won’t go there either. Can we do five seas? That’s close enough.”

“Close enough for what?” Liane checked the rigging.

“To drop all this tea straight into the deep blue sea.”

Liane stood up straight and glared at him like a furious five foot tornado. “Why the fuck would you want to waste all this tea?”

“Because she’s as sweet as Tupelo honey.”

“Who? And what’s Tupelo?”

Fred sighed. “Just this girl who broke my heart back in college. I’ve never gotten over her. She was very sweet. And Tupelo is a city in Kansas. Supposedly the best honey comes from Tupelo. Not that I’ve ever actually had any.”

“Hang on,” Liane said. “How sweet can she be if she broke your heart? What did she do?”

“She dumped me for a rock star.” Fred’s eyes filled with tears at the memory. “I was only ever going to be a boring poetry teacher.”

“We need teachers here,” Liane said. “She sounds like a twat.”

Fred took a deep breath. “That doesn’t matter now. The important thing is to keep my vow about the tea. I always told her she was worth all the tea in China. And she was as sweet as–”

“Tupelo honey.” Liane rolled her eyes. “I get it. But hey. How about instead of doing this dumbass tea-dumping thing, we open a poetry and tea shop? My aunt has a small space we could lease. And by we I mean you. I know how to make tea though. You’ll be in charge of the poetry.”

“Hmm,” Fred pondered. “A new road to freedom?”

~*~

Okay then! I tag Jim Adams. Jim, please follow the numbered rules above with this additional instruction: use any song with the word “kiss” in it. Have fun!

~*~

PS: I see Tupelo is in Mississippi. Whatever!

The Quiet Life [fiction 325]

“There she is!”

“Oh, my God! She’s really alive.”

“Can you believe it? After all these years!”

The Countess waved gracefully to the crowd gathered on the lawn. She had agreed to answer a few questions and pointed to a reporter near the edge of the stone steps. Two armed guards stood at the bottom of each side of the steps, ostensibly to deter anyone from coming too close.

“Countess Greta,” the reporter said. “It’s so good to see you again. What inspired you to emerge from your solitude?”

Greta smiled and indicated the perfectly maintained grounds. “I wanted a fresh lemon for my afternoon tea.”

Everyone laughed politely. It wasn’t a real answer, for they all knew the Countess could summon a servant to fetch a lemon.

Another reporter asked, “We were used to seeing you dressed in mourning black. Does your more colorful attire signal a change in your lifestyle as well? Will you be entering society again?”

The crowd murmured. It was a bold question, to indirectly refer to the death of the Count. No one really knew what had happened, though of course there were many stories and rumors, some of them bordering on the scandalous and vile.

But Greta appeared unfazed. She touched the lace of her heather pink dress and said, “Oh, thank you for noticing my gown. It is springtime after all. But I do prefer the quiet life of reading poetry and painting watercolors in my studio.”

A few more questions followed regarding her taste in poets and such. One of the guards subtly shifted position, at which point, the Countess said, “It’s been lovely chatting with you all. We shall do it again soon.” With that, she disappeared back into the cavernous castle.

“She has so much class.”

“So ephemeral.

“Such a great beauty, even now.”

“How old is she? Does anyone know?”

“The guards seemed more concerned with keeping her in than keeping us out.”

~*~

Written for The Daily Echo

Thursday Inspiration 12

Welcome to Thursday Inspiration! This is my weekly prompt post and hopefully it will inspire you to write something creative, perhaps a poem or a piece of flash fiction. If you’d like to share your writing with the community, please indulge me and tag your post with #p0eticlicense and/or #lightm0tifs, and of course link back if you wish. I will try to visit everyone who participates. πŸ™‚

This week’s theme is garden and the picture is below. Here is the song snippet from “Octopus’s Garden,” written by Richard Starkey in 1969:

I‘d like to be under the sea
In an octopus’ garden in the shade
He’d let us in, knows where we’ve been
In his octopus’ garden in the shade

Photo found on Pixabay

In Other Words, voices…

Loud voices, soft voices, voices all a-buzz…

Sweet voices, sad voices, voices that I love…

Voices singing, yelling, cursing, praising,

Barking, humming, meowing, blazing…

WILL YOU ALL JUST SHUT UP PLEASE SO I CAN WRITE IN PEACE!?!?!

The Last Firewall

She’d dreamt this moment

Into being, and behold!

His fearsome form appeared

Like an emerald angel,

Launched from the stars.

No angel he, but a vengeful beast,

Intent on destruction, far and wide.

That’s why she’d been hidden here,

Behind the last firewall,

Safe from the dragon’s ire.

They’d built an asbestos tower

To keep her from her prince,

Yet here he was, anger flowing

In molten streams of red and gold,

But accomplishing nothing.

She waited, wondering…

What would be his strategy?

Surely he would rescue her,

Not fail, after coming this far.

But he drank from the moat

Of Hypnos and lay down to sleep.

She cried bitter tears

That turned into a river of ice;

If only he’d known

He could have whispered her name

And the gate

Would have opened.

Keep It Down

Spectators gathered

In the alley.

There seemed to be an

Impromptu play happening

About noise, with a catch–

There were no words.

Mimes conveyed a bitter,

Twisted drama

To an enthralled crowd.

The mimes writhed

And expressed every

Sick, tortured emotion

With their graceful bodies

And supple faces.

Finally, the one killed the other

For gesturing too loudly;

It was not a match

Made in silent heaven.

Thursday Inspiration 11

Welcome to Thursday Inspiration! This is my weekly prompt post and hopefully it will inspire you to write something creative, perhaps a poem or a piece of flash fiction. If you’d like to share your writing with the community, please indulge me and tag your post with #p0eticlicense and/or #lightm0tifs, and of course link back if you wish. I will try to visit everyone who participates. πŸ™‚

This week’s theme is sand and the picture is below. Here is the song snippet from “Song of Sand,” written by Suzanne Vega in 1992:

If sand waves were sound waves 
What song would be in the air now
What stinging tune
Could split this endless noon
And make the sky swell with rains

Photo found on Pixabay

In Other Words, fireworks…

Fireworks are fun when professionally done,

But setting them off in the street is just idiotic.

They scare all our pets and make such a mess!

So, unless you’re doing a Boston Tea (and invite me),

Remember that lawbreaking is not patriotic!

Dreams

Bubbles form and float in the deep…

Thought waves building as I sleep;

Jumbled dreams crash to the shore,

Tickling my consciousness

With the hiss of ideas

And ebbing away once more.

I wake in the dark and everything seems

Possible; I’m energized with the drive

To change my life today…

But I drift off with the waves;

My dreams dissolve,

As if they never knew the warmth

Of the fine sand

Or the infinite paths

Out of the swirling sea.