Word of the Day: #6-Lame

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My co-worker quit which means I have tons of extra hours, but only one day off each week except this week because there is a holiday, yet my immune system tanked which it never does and NOW my nose is raw from blowing it all damn day!

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Another Failed Attempt

This is for the weekly picture prompt from Ermilia’s Blog

Picture promt

How many times can one fail at this? The rain bit into my clothes, but I barely felt it past the pain. A man sat hunched over me, but I tried to ignore him.

“Hey! Why did you jump in front of my truck? Can you hear me?”

His hands were warm on the sides of my face. I hope he didn’t mind my tears. I looked to the left where his truck had slid off the road. I guessed he was going to care more about that in a second.

Someone came to a stop. I had to go. I had to disappear before anyone came.

I tried to roll over, but he pinned my shoulders to the ground.

“You’re not going anywhere,” he said.

“Get your damn hands off me.” My heart rate accelerated. Well it was good to know I still had one.

“Oh my God, I know you, you’re the–”

“Shut up. Did you call the cops?”

“No-I-I—“

“I’ll pay you a grand if you get me outta here.”

“You need to go to the hospital.”

“Take me to another town, and I will double the amount.”

He looked me over. I could tell from his attire and his truck he needed the money.
“Do you feel any pain in your neck or back,” he asked.

“No, just my left arm—“

“Hey do you guys need help, Should I call the police,” asked a woman who from the car. She had yelled from the lowered window of a shiny Bentley.

“No, we already did,” he said.

“Oh okay, have a good night,” said the woman. What an idiot. Well in my favor thank God she was an Idiot.

“I’m going to pick you up.”

I gritted my teeth and nodded my head.

“Don’t think you can just buy me off,” he said as he gently raised me, “After the hospital you’re going to explain everything.”
We’ll see about that…

Word of the Day: #4-Destruction

Destruction

My hips start to sway in rhythm to the angry tempo of my stomping boots. I tread a trail of anger and frustration. The beat of hate is when the sound of broken dishes or the scene of thrown eggs almost seems satisfying. This is the path of a scorned women. This is what comes before the tears. You feel like screaming at the top of your lungs, but instead lift a glass of destruction to your lips.

Who doesn’t feel destructive sometimes? The important part is to find reason before acting! I find writing and drawing very helpful when I feel this way. What about you? If you have anything to share feel free to comment?

Word of the Day: #3-Lonlieness

Lonlieness

Loneliness is a reoccurring shiver that I can’t shake no matter how warm the room is. I find myself turning on noise where ever I go to drown out the rolling thunder inside my mind. The idea that the following days to come are going to be as lonely as the days before destroys me. Memories plague me to the point of exhaustion. Walking home with just the street lights and seeing only one shadow is the sting of reality.

I just want to say I’m not lonely all the time, but when I moved out on my own I had no idea how badly I would struggle with loneliness from time to time. Some people just aren’t meant to live alone. I really don’t think anyone is, but some do manage it.

Word of the day: #2-Perseverance

perseverance

“Three limbs on the mountain at all times,” That’s what my brother had told me. He was one step farther than me at all times while we scaled the 30 ft. mountain and my eyes were only focused on his moves that way I could exactly replicate them.

The mountain sat 100 ft. from shore and when low tide came the hidden rocky passageway would appear allowing access to any who dared to make the climb.

My forearms, biceps, triceps, shoulders, thighs, calves were on fire, but it was the burn the tells you your alive. Just keep moving.

We were more than halfway up. The next hand hold was out of reach.

“Jim. What do I do?”

“You have to Jump for it,” he said.

What a simple solution. Why hadn’t I thought of it? Well, because it was insane of course. I looked down. I could make my way back down. I looked up. Jim had pulled himself up and over onto the top of the mountain and was now looking down on me. This was the last step.

I couched, sprang, grabbed, and held on for dear life. My heart rate went from upbeat to overtime in two seconds. I scrambled over the edge onto the top. I had made it and it was so worth it.

Do you have any tales of Perseverance? Comment if you do!

View from the top!!!

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The Petals of Life

My weekly response to Ermilia’s weekly Picture it and write prompt.

Red In Common

The Photo is from Tumblr

A petal falls, from the tuxedo pocket of a high school boy

A petal falls, from the wrist of a high school girl

Petals have fallen and petals still fall,

Two years of falling petals

A petal falls, from the bouquet of a late fiancé

a petal falls, from the bouquet of a smiling bride

Petals have fallen and petals still fall,

Twenty-two years of falling petals

A petal falls, from the plant in the waiting room

a petal falls, from the plant in the cancer specialist’s office

Petals have fallen and petals still fall

Two months of falling petals

A petal falls, from the bouquet on a hospital bedside tray

A petal falls, from a gripped fist onto the waiting dirt

Petals have fallen and petals still fall,

Tomorrow they will fall again

 

Haiku PLUS story about the Ocean, man-made structures, & S’mores

AnthropogenicA city awaits

the force of a rising tide.  

Our design won’t last.

I took this picture while visiting my mom on the Oregon Coast. My younger brother and I had walked away from the fire to find roasting sticks for s’mores when he shoved me and took off running. I was laughing and chasing him down when all of a sudden he jerked to a  stop and said, Look at this!” It was dark, but the light from the moon showed the outline of a massive city made out of stones. It was amazing! There was a wall between the taller stacked buildings and the shabbier ones located on the outskirts. My Photo doesn’t do the city justice, but you can get the idea. It took me four hours to build seven rock towers and maybe that’s because I was matching colors, but I know this took a lot of time and effort. My second thought was this is going to be gone when the tide comes in.

The Haiku is based around the idea of oceans rising and consuming land, therefor also wiping out man-made structures. The bigger idea is based on our design not lasting. Why would you spend so much time working on something that isn’t going to last even till tomorrow? The person who spent the time to build this could have been doing it for many reasons, boredom, stress relief, or to bring joy and excitement to others. Which spurs the idea of selflessness. So many thoughts because of someone’s simple act is a great thing.

Do you have anything to add or share? Feel free to do so in the comment area 🙂

Dealing With Loss….

Mother's poemMy mother’s warm house is now empty.

Her laugh, her laugh no longer rings throughout

my life, but I take comfort in the stars

A blanket of stars never meant so much,

but now they stand for all the times

giggles bounced off my bedroom walls, as

my squirming body was tucked in by 

by warn tired hands; my mother’s hands

Billions, no trillions of stars to

guide me, to show me the way

in dark uncertain times just as

my mother’s words have guided

me countless times before

Lastly, she had a smile that

brightened my life and I find

this too in the stars.

I look to the know blurry galaxy

and whisper, “Goodnight,

I love you mom.”

My co-worker lost her mother and “I’m sorry for your loss” didn’t seem like enough. Mother’s are so special and I can’t even imagine losing mine, so I made a poem for her. The poem is about finding comfort in the stars because they bring familiarity and remembrance of a mothers irreplaceable wonderful qualities. If you’ve lost your mother I hope you can also find her in some way.

An Unwanted Birthright

My weekly response to Ermilia’s weekly Picture it and write prompt.

fairy-in-forest

“Do you have to push so hard?” The branches were digging into my scalp. My sister had been working on my hair all morning and I wanted to scream out of frustration. The braiding and weaving was for the coronation that would take place today on my twentieth birthday.

“Don’t whine Lilium,” said my sister.

“Don’t call me that!”

“It’s your name, and you better get used to it,” She said.

My father was the only person who ever used my full name. I’m not embarrassed of my name. Most elves are named after things of nature. He told us my mother enjoyed flowers more than anything else in the forest and shortly after our births; she named me Lilium for my blond hair and for my younger sister’s red hair, my mother named her Dahlia. One of the few stories I have of her and us since she died when I was five and Dahlia had only been three. An incurable fever of the forest had taken her life.

It really wasn’t about my mother, because I don’t even remember her. It was because of last leaf fall. Colored leaves had just begun to fall when father had taken Dahlia and I out for a hunting trip. Along with forty of the finest royal guard, but that hadn’t stopped his death. Ambushes are swift and deadly. If he hadn’t given the order for our escape, we would have also died that day. I had wanted to stay, isn’t that what all those years of training had been for or were they so that we could run away, as our King, my father, fell to the muddy earth. I could still hear the way he shouted my name, as I argued. “GO LILIUUUM!”

“Lily, are you listening?” I had been staring out the window. Turning to the mirror in front of me I could see tears had fallen from my deceitful eyes. It had been a long time since I allowed myself to think about that horrid day.

“I’m sorry Lily,” she said.

“It’s okay. I know you didn’t mean anything.”

“What are you thinking about?”

Father’s death and the fact that we don’t know our mother, how am I going to rule our people, why couldn’t you have been born first?

“Nothing, It’s nothing. I’m only nervous.”

“Don’t lie to me, Lily,” She said. “You never cry, well in front of people anyways.” She looked down at her hands. I hadn’t even noticed, but my hair was complete. I was now ready. We would make our journey to the cresting hill where thousands of our alliances had gathered. When the sun begins to set, the ceremony will start and at last sun light I will take my vow to protect our people even at the cost of my own life.

“How do you know I can do this,” I asked.

Her eyes were shining emeralds in the mirror. “Because father always believed in you just as I do.”