Microfiction Monday, 1/31/11

"Wow forty-eight soap bars, smells fine! good shape after
floating from the wreck; let's give'em to the boys
they'll love all the bubbles"

Flash fiction 55, 1/28/11

From : Love force#5 a lovely painting posted by Brian Miller of Waystationone.

Copy and Paste does not seem to work, no matter how many times I try. Sorry folks.

See the sheer rock rising?
a black butterfly
has shed her wings
to turn on point
over them and pansies
spread on an outcropping

that will bear the brunt 
of a fire fly cindering fast
to land in front
of a tribal lady
her headdress tipped
in reverence to stories
unfolded by a volcano

Microfiction Monday 1/24/11

"Sorry to bring you out in this weather-
Watch the water under the the railroad bridge;
and tell me what you see--There!!-what is that??"

Poetry Bus,1/23/11

When I was young I loved zoo's.

Growing up I drew a lot of animals,
sometimes I wanted them
Eye to eye, eye to paw-

I needed close up:
scents or lay and curl of fur,
feather and microscopic colors.

I watched twitch of whisker,
tilt of head.
Sometimes line of shoulder,
flick of wing
shift of weight.

Grain of hoof, shell,
the grit of tendon
turn of horns
or curve of claw.

Flash fiction 55 1/20/11

I was reading a book this morning
Devotion, by Dani Shapiro.
 (p. 17) stories, energy.
Then I saw G-mans bikes-


'Samskara' knots of energy
in hips, heart, jaw, lungs;
are stories held within,

I see nuggets
of white and striped colors
large marbles with uneven layers
Unmeltable, uncrackable.

Then the stories unrolling
as we try on wheels,
attached to out feet

skates-then bigger
wheels of tricycles,
bicycles onto Ferris wheels,
   
what are their stories like?

Magpie Tales, 1/18/11

They had been stuck in the house for two days. Millie held
her feather, but she was not amused by their jokes.
Sally and Fran had been laughing all the way up the hill,
brandishing their twigs broken off the flower stalks from the garden.
Now they will begin a sword fight -and someone- most likely me -
is going to end up covered with snow. Maybe I should turn around 
and go back right now; before my sisters instigate more nonsense!

Microfiction Monday 140, 1/17/11

"Oh my- what has just popped into my hand here?
I grabbed the wrong handle!  "   

Poetry Bus,1/16/11

My morning meditation became about tiny, shiny birds.
Songbirds and all things relating to them- colorful.
Does this apply to TFE's prompt ?

The apse was empty
and so I went out
into the greening garden
and picked up a rake.
Emeralds lead me onward,
" Grriiishhh, rrrisshhh,"
pulling brown tufts away
"Fluff, enough."
Suddenly a choral voice
wavered out, gaining strength,
heart rending solo
from above.
"Who-?" I  whispered
scanning the ring of apple trees,
and far left on the tippy top branch
a little red blob with its beak to the sky
was serenading all around
a washed blue sky.
And so he and I
kept company,
sometimes in sync and sometimes
I'd stop, lean on the handle
just breathing.
All the way down the long yard,
he sang, I raked,
until I reached the windmill.

Flash fiction 55 1/14/11

Someone mentioned music and how it transports us- (I believe it was Brian
at WaystationOne/ Onestop Poetry)and it reminded me about the clarity and unity
of the experience from childhood.I did write 99.9% of this story yesterday-
then ran out of time and quiet to finish...

Music flowing
over a generous blue rug
a young child
spinning, dipping
to pick the flowers
under her feet,
following all
the twisting paths,                 
inward, outward
a heart scaling mountains
sailing rough seas
through seasons
for years;
until painting,
writing
drew her away;
now she wonders if lines
could re-twine
into a melody someday.

Magpie Tales, 1/12/11

A page of music
has notes so light
and short with rests,
they're peeling off the page

coloring our air
with sounds so bright
we can laugh
and dance or stare,

at a banner
shedding enough flowers
to cover all the snowflakes
in our hair
 

Poetry Bus,1/10/11

The way anger can hang on
and 'Rent free space in our heads'-


Over and over:
Much, much too late-
for that very important date,
No pocket watch 
Just anger to relate-
Calmly? quietly?

No-No! I write
and sing
-and wait!

Microfiction Monday,1/10/11

A very silly take on the prompt picture
I happened on another of Susan at Stony River 
photo's of this mythical creature-
and this conversation popped out...



 Where is your eye?
My oye is on the other soyde
 Where, is my life ?
In between moy hands!
 Where are my wings
On moy back you silly thing! 

Flash fiction 55 1/7/11

 A quick response to G-man's photo:

A fire in the works
where dragons lurk-beware.
stillness snakes its head around:
lips rake, in no uncertain terms
 a quake's about
to shake this ground.
Brown eyes
 claws about to gore
new gashes in your hide-
these pearls
 lay their curls
quietly around;
but there is a link
between danger and this girl-

One Shot Wednesday

The perfection of connection
flows
with strength and stretch,
the beauty of an arch
or lift completes
our reach and touch
before letting go.

Effort from each
enhances us,
expands encourages
creates before the tumble
roll or turning,
brings us on
to discovery...

Microfiction Monday 1/3/11

See my shoulder? That cow just kicked
a fresh bucket of cream all over me
as I picked up the tin of Texaco Grease
to do this advertisement