Weekend Writing Prompt #238 – Familiar

Yesterday turned out to be way lazier than I had planned. Don’t you just love that?  Well, I do, anyway 🙂

So it may not be the weekend but hey, does it really matter?  A word prompt to get your creativity flowing this weekend.  How you use the prompt is up to you.  Write a piece of flash fiction, a poem, a chapter for your novel…anything you like.  Or take the challenge below – there are no prizes – it’s not a competition but rather a fun writing exercise.  If you want to share what you come up with, please leave a link to it in the comments. Thank you, Sammi, for hosting!

 

wk 238 familiar

 

Why don’t you run on a different route? they ask. Aren’t you tired of the same-old, same-old? Don’t you want to see something different?

What they don’t understand is there is something special that happens when you choose the familiar.  Rather than not see what is there, you notice every little change.  There is a shift in light as the seasons morph from one to another and nothing looks the same. I  am in continuous awe of it all.

Giving Thanks… and Pie?

I do this to myself all. the. time.  I get a prompt in my inbox and I think, “Oh yeah, baby, I know what I’m gonna write”. And then some annoying person comes and asks me for a stupid pen or lead for their pencil or whatever. And so I have to put it aside.  And then two days pass by, nothing written, and a new prompt shows up and I think, “Oh yeah, baby. I know exactly what I’m gonna write…” And then. I gotta send out a box… Well, you get the idea. I have come to realise that work is getting in the way of me doing what I really want to do. And it is NOT fetching office supplies (supplies, by the way, that they could get all by their own damn selves if they just walked into the supply room room which is not ten paces from where I sit).  But I digress with my impromptu mini-rant.

So Last Monday, dVerse was Haibun Monday – Giving Thanks.  I know where I’m going with that one.

And then on the Thursday that followed, dVerse was Pie Poetry – didn’t have to be related to Thanksgiving, though it was the ‘Murican Thanksgiving, of course.  I gots me pie stories to tell…

So here I am the following week, having written three (four?) other posts with this one still hanging out in drafts.  I almost left it in drafts to die a slow death but then decided, nope. Let’s go crazy and actually finish it!  So I decided to mush the two prompts together, somehow.

Giving Thanks With My Family Pie

My family means the world to me.  And I’m talking the whole gang:  from my grandmother, to my parents, to my aunts and uncles, to my sisters, my cousins, down to nieces and nephews, and my children.

Many are sadly gone now but they left their mark and they deserve a place at this table, in this peculiar pie.

No matter the situation, either one of us is a phone call and a drive-past-the speeding-limit drive away, urgency dependent, of course.

The birth of a baby, the death of one.  An injury sustained by a saw or a skull-cracking fall takes but one phone call, and the invisible director has called “Action!”.

It’s not only in moments of distress that we come together.  We join in celebrations: shopping for prom/wedding dresses, attending each other’s children’s recitals and games. And yes, we can even travel together!

They’ll call me on my shit, tell me I look like shit, give me shit, tell me my decision was shit.  But here’s the thing; so will I when they merit it.

They’ll celebrate my victories, tell me I look fabulous and let the world know they are proud of me.  Just like I will for them.

My family is a complex pie (it’s not even round) made up of varying slices (they’re not even, even) that you might think shouldn’t work together, but do.  Maybe they don’t all belong on the same plate, (some are savoury, some are sweet, some are spicy; all of them tart and not a few of them nutty) but they definitely belong in the same meal.

Holidays are fine

To give thanks to those we love

But every day’s best

 

 

 

Living in the Now

I so wanted to do this one last night but Yellowstone won over on my time!  Lillian has chosen to honour Björn Rudberg, one of the facilitators/keepers of the Pub of dVerse, who happens to be of Swedish descent and when you think of Sweden, what music comes to mind?  ABBA, of course!  So we are to take one line and one line only – word for word – from the song Dancing Queen and build our poem around it.  How cool is that?

 

Living in the Now

 

Gone the crunch of newly fallen snow beneath my running feet

Gone the rustle of the marcescent leaves holding on to the oak trees

Gone the scrape of shovels on sidewalks, the screech of snow ploughs

 

For now, we are baking in the Mexican sun, discovering pyramids

We are snorkeling in Roatan, discovering brightly-coloured fish

We are drinking Champagne cocktails and eating like royalty

We are dressed to the nines, far away from the office grind

 

We are at the back of the boat (the stern for the purists)

Where they play the right music

And the wind dries our sweat as we dance with a frenzy

That only happens when you are away from the real

 

Because for this one week of the year

The surreal is our real

And we want to live it at its fullest

 

Not the Crown I Want

It’s Quadrille Monday on dVerse – which just so happens to be one of my favourite of the prompts.  A 44-word poem? Count me in! De Jackson aka WhimsyGizmo is hosting and she wants us to use the word Crown.  While walking around Old Montreal yesterday, I snapped this bicycle, thinking it would make for an interesting fun subject one day.  Who knew I would use it so soon? It can be part of the fun project of using one photo with a short text or this.  Or both!

They say I’m next in line
That it is meant to be
I fear I must decline
There’ll be no crown for me

With a bicycle of gold
I shall set myself free
For the ruling days of old
Were never meant for me

OtherWorld Redux

Our beautiful Resa has done it again! Here is the next episode (I say next because I don’t want her to ever stop)

Art Gowns

Princess Blue Holly’s Tangle-Heart guided her to a back window accessing OtherWorld’s tower.

Peering out the only window facing onto OtherWorld, PBH could see DracGoth with Evilomlap Etagloc. DracGoth must have helped Evilomlap escape his imprisonment in a picture frame! Using super hearing, she eavesdropped.

EE – Hissss – This OtherWorld you made is a bit creepy, Drac. Hiss, cough, cough! It’s so dim and dank.

DG – I disagree, Evil. I find it very pleasant down here. I can’t stand all the light and colours up in the real world. That’s why I need SheyGoth to move down here.

EE – Why can’t you just be happy with the effigy of SheyGoth I made you? Hack, cough, hiss!

DG – We used it to crash the Art Gowns fashion show, and suck the colour out of the real world, but all she does here is sit on her throne…

View original post 669 more words

Fun Stuff

She’d been walking for hours.  It was time to stop and put her feet up and relax. It was Sunday after all!  Oh wait.  Look at those glasses calling her inside.  Wine. Yes, a glass of wine would definitely start her off on the right track.  She went to the door and pulled the handle.  Damn. Closed.  Sigh. She walked to her car, drove home and poured herself a glass.  Would have been nice to have been served… but this will do!

I’ve been working on a post going nowhere, so I left that and caught up on my inbox.  There was Robin’s post, inspired by Karen’s post.  Things don’t always have to be serious, do they?

 

 

Weekend Writing Prompt #236 – Blue

A word prompt to get your creativity flowing this weekend.  How you use the prompt is up to you.  Write a piece of flash fiction, a poem, a chapter for your novel…anything you like.  Or take the challenge below – there are no prizes – it’s not a competition but rather a fun writing exercise.  If you want to share what you come up with, please leave a link to it in the comments. Thank you Sammi!

My head and camera (the phone one) has been in the clouds for the past few days.  Might as well make that work, right?  And yet, a thought, clear as day, pops into my mind for this prompt yet I cannot put it into words. What is up with that?  So I start and I add and I remove and I move around until I erase the whole damn thing and write it in one fell swoop.  How does that happen?

 

wk 236 blue

 

Blue and white

Seeing images in the clouds is child’s play

Who doesn’t love to play?

Blue is white and white is blue

A negative effect that has me

seeing smoke curling out

of a chimney-tree

While the sun looks on

 

November Tristesse

In Thursday’s dVerse,  we are asked to write a Wayra (a Quechua (indigenous word for wind) and a popular form in Bolivia and Peru.  What is it?  It is:

  1. a pentastich, a poem in 5 lines.
  2. syllabic, 5-7-7-6-8
  3. unrhymed.

As if that is not enough, Grace, the hostess, has asked us to include an onomatopoeia (word representing sounds: bang, thwack, etc.)  How could I resist?  Well, I could, but it’s funny. It just so happens on my second walk while waiting for my car on Wednesday, I recorded phrases, planning on turning them into a poem.  For the second time, I end up writing a shorter version of what I had planned.  I’m thinking the Universe knows my penchant for short and to the point.

 

I feel November

In-between time, that saddens

Tears hover, threaten to spill

Trees speak to me ~ swish

of leaves:  Let it go. Let it go.

 

 

 

Artistic License – Friday Fictioneers

What a Wednesday morning.  Tell me, when does an oil change mean only an oil change?  Never, that’s when.  As I had to be at the garage for 7:30, I didn’t have time to write my FF. I didn’t think I’d be spending five hours there, so I didn’t bring my laptop.  Oh well. Silver linings and all that. I got my steps in before noon. So there’s that, right?  Thank you, always, to our leader, Rochelle for hosting and would you look at that?  I know that pic!

Cartoon frog stacked on tree log Royalty Free Vector Image

Click us to play!

 

Jason stepped back, admiring his handiwork, a satisfied grin on his visage.  Anything could become art with a little imagination.  Chores didn’t have to be dull and boring.  He was convinced his parents would be pleased that he had stacked the wood.  On the first asking, no less.

He heard the crunch of tires on the gravel driveway and quickly hid behind the tree to hear their first reaction. Both car doors slammed shut and then silence.

“Patti.  Come and see what Jason did.”

“Well, now.  It is stacked, as requested…”

“In the front.  Around the window.”

“Artistic, no?”

“Hmmm”

 

Weekend Writing Prompt #235 – Mirror

A word prompt to get your creativity flowing this weekend.  How you use the prompt is up to you.  Write a piece of flash fiction, a poem, a chapter for your novel…anything you like.  Or take the challenge below – there are no prizes – it’s not a competition but rather a fun writing exercise.  If you want to share what you come up with, please leave a link to it in the comments.  Thank you, Sammi, for hosting this weekly party!

wk 235 mirror

 

Tempestuous, slate-grey clouds
hang heavy in the sky
mirroring my hungover state
waiting to free themselves

I could curl up into a ball and bemoan my state, or
Be inspired by my love (suffering similarly)
who found the wherewithal to go out and run
I’m inspired

Before long
the crunch of gravel under my feet
erases the pounding in my head
I rejoice in the colours of the leaves
Against the grey, above, and below

The rain starts, and rather than run faster
I slow to a walk
A cleansing of sorts
Alive once again