Bonus Wordle “Alphabet Soup” – Sipping on the Soup

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This weeks great word selection: Arabesque (noun Fine Arts. a sinuous, spiraling, undulating, or serpentine line or linear motif. a pose in ballet in which the dancer stands on one leg with one arm extended in front and the other leg and arm extended behind. a short, fanciful musical piece, typically for piano. any ornament or ornamental object, as a rug or mosaic, in which flowers, foliage, fruits, vases, animals, and figures are represented in a fancifully combined pattern. adjective decorated with or characterized by arabesques) Branch Complex Deadfall (a trap, especially for large game, in which a weight falls on and crushes the prey. a mass of brush and fallen trees.) Error Flash Gristle Hard Itch Jaundice (yellow discoloration of the skin, whites of the eyes etc.) Kookaburra (an Australian kingfisher with a call resembling laughter) Lachesism (n. the desire to be struck by disaster—to survive a plane crash, to lose everything in a fire, to plunge over a waterfall—which would put a kink in the smooth arc of your life, and forge it into something hardened and flexible and sharp, not just a stiff prefabricated beam that barely covers the gap between one end of your life and the other.) Mud Numb Obey Pulse Quill Driver (a clerk, scribe, or writer) Rough Saliva Tremble Upturn Verse Wistful Xerarch (originating from a dry habitat) Yield Zigzag

 

It was another Monday and nothing excited him more and set his pulse a trembling than the Monday wordle. Today it was apparent that the puzzle mistress was being more devious than usual.

He decided that the best way to approach today’s puzzle was to take the zigzag path, wind his way fearlessly through the rough maze ignoring any potential error and be perfectly relaxed in his lachesistic approach to the possibility he might completely stuff it up.

So with the kookaburras laughing manically in the background and biting down on his favourite piece of gristle, which tended to give him a jaundiced appearance, he set out on his task.

In a flash he was up and away. His words making their usual clear as mud meaning and logic. As he penned the words yielded to his wishes and branch upon branch of verse spewed forth. He began to salivate at the complex possibility of creating something that others would shake their heads at wondering the mere sanity of the man. His brain was numb but forced to obey the pull of his pen as he ventured further than he had ever done before. Not even the laughter of the kookaburras could dampen his enthusiasm nor curtail his desire at word eighteen to pose in relaxation in his favourite Arabesque position, one leg extended as his favourite piece of new age music played in the background. He felt momentarily wistful as he recalled the time in his life his psychiatrist had so pleasantly referred to as his xerarch period when not one original thought had entered his head.

This period had in fact generated the lachesism he now suffered from despite his creation at the time of magnificent Arabesque tapestries depicting the wistful xerarch of his troubled imagination.

But just as he thought it might be all too much he remembered his father, a famous quill driver, a man who took his hard life and turned it into something. His father a man who suffered a constant itch in his upturned nose never allowed physical torment to hinder his own sense of lachesism as he awoke each day to the expectation that the dam would break at any moment and sweep everyone but him to an untimely death. He had his own deadfall in the back yard to capture any large bear, lion or tiger that happened to come into his yard. He covered all aspects of the lachesism that occupied his mind.

Looking back he realised that as always he had somehow covered all the words in the puzzle, he knew the puzzle mistress would be amazed, shower him with praise and most probably display her unique Arabesque way with a few choice arabesque adjectives of her own.

 

 

Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2016/04/25/bonus-wordle-alphabet-soup/

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2016 April PAD Challenge: Day 24 – Lost and Found

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Today’s prompt, write a poem in which something is lost and then regained.

 

We wondered year in year out

What had become of you?

Taken as a baby

Vanished from us.

The anguish of loss

Haunted us each year

We remembered your birthday.

All attempts to find you

Fell on deaf ears and dead ends.

Then one day, thirty years later

A message, a phone call

A voice from the wilderness

Visits arranged

Nerves on edge

The lost child found.

New relationships forged

New families introduced

Suddenly we were one again.

Now we rejoice

In your discovery

For what was once lost

Has now been found.

 

Written for: http://www.writersdigest.com/whats-new/2016-april-pad-challenge-day-24

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Writing Prompt April 24 2016: Scales

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This week we continue to feature the Tarot cards – Major Arcana – the card of the week – Justice.

 

‘You’re pathetic,’ they screamed

‘You claim to be the victim?

Where is your evidence?

The scars?

The bruises?

I claim you are lying

Fabricating the story

Seeking attention

I see no blood, no injury.’

 

Is it not enough to look into my face?

Can you not see the pain, the turmoil?

Why do I have to validate myself?

Why can you not believe me when I say

I have been abused, bashed and laid bare?

 

I have harboured secrets

Tormented myself

Maintained your silence

Allowed my shame dominance.

My story has been ridiculed

Battered

Denied

Rejected.

 

They look like you and me

Their heart beats as does yours

But their minds are ill

Diseased and predatory

They seek you out

Rip out your soul

Destroy you, waste you

Till you are as nothing

Emotionally discarded.

 

Justice is within your soul

Revelations cleansing

The secret defied

Oppressors confronted.

As a beacon to so many

You look the abomination

Governing your being

Squarely in the eye

Swearing never again.

 

Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2016/04/24/writing-prompt-april-24-2016-scales/

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2016 April PAD Challenge: Day 23 – Thongs

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For today’s prompt, write a footwear poem.

 

I turn up wearing thongs

I watch as you blush

Those are flip-flops you say.

Well where I live they are thongs

For us to wear a thong is to have but one leg.

So the argument goes back and forth

Do you wear runners, joggers or trainers?

It’s all the same

It’s a cultural thing

Regional I think as well.

We all no matter where we live

Need and use the humble shoe

In all its variations, styles and colours.

So for me it’s a pair of thongs

I’ll wear mine on my feet

You wear yours where you like.

 

Written for: http://www.writersdigest.com/whats-new/2016-april-pad-challenge-day-23

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Prompt Nights – Jour de la Terre – Earth Day – Earth’s Tears

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I stir at the break of day

Knowing from today I am one second closer

To the moment of oblivion.

My body and soul are being ripped from me.

The insatiable parasites

With one view to further their own ends

Haunt me for they know I will stop giving

Cease to provide as I do now

At some point soon to arrive.

From my depths they are sucking me dry

Taking from me what can never be given back.

It’s finite but they don’t see

What greed can bring about.

One day it will all end

There will be nothing

I will be nothing

Just a gasping shell

Unable to breath

Unable to live

Unable to provide.

So I cry at my expected demise.

I tried to warn them

Sent them signs.

But when ignorance is a default setting,

There is not much I can do

When they wont help themselves.

 

Written for: http://www.adashofsunny.com/prompt-nights-jour-de-la-terre-earth-day-12/

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SoCS April 23/16 – “ta.”

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Take it back.

Take off.

Take a running jump.

Each an expression I would have loved to have used against the bullies who affronted me each time they found me on the train home from school.

Thankfully mine was a short journey and they had to be quick to find me, I made sure never to sit in the same spot.

I’m sure karma caught up with them in later life and they realised the errors of their ways but something tells me they didn’t.

They weren’t blessed with manners; they could take it or leave it and more than once the taking was the order of the day. Coming as we all did from alleged Christian homes it always amused me that the worse characters I came across were so often from Christian homes. Where some sense of morality should have been present there was none, no value of human life and possession. It was for so many of them a take take world.

You have it, I want it, I’ll take it. A very simple philosophy on life.

 

Written for: https://lindaghill.com/2016/04/22/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-april-2316/

 

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2016 April PAD Challenge: Day 22 – Stark Reality

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For today’s prompt, take the phrase “Star (blank),” replace the blank with a word or phrase

In sixteen years there was

Cancer

Divorce

Remarrying

Work keeping her busy

Far too busy for children.

But she clung to a false reality.

Any day now she thought

When he comes to the door

Says lets try again

I am ready.

So she waited.

Her stark reality

Abhorrent to others

Sickening and delusional.

She denied the years of abuse

Saw him as the father of her children

Wanted a life like she once had

But had long destroyed

Along with him.

 

Written for: http://www.writersdigest.com/whats-new/2016-april-pad-challenge-day-22

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Music Prompt #39 “Keep Your Head Up” by Andy Grammer

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CmrOB_q3tjo

For my youngest daughter who is doing tough right now with three small boys.

 

It’s hard right now to keep your head up

When so much shit is happening around you.

What with boys to care for

A house and all on your own.

Yesterday you climbed a mountain

Danced on the summit

Stood on top of that bit of the world.

Let your hair down for just a while

Partied a little with your best friend in tow.

I see you and your brave face

In the face of so much negativity:

We rally round, showing support

Giving you reason to keep your head up.

I see you growing stronger

Learning to say no

Knowing when to call a stop

To the crap that flies round you most days.

For until then you’ll flounder and fail

You’ll look up seeing the insurmountable.

But you’ll have reason, no matter what

To tell the naysayers where to go,

Knowing you can hold your head up

Being the woman and mother you are.

 

Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2016/04/22/music-prompt-39-keep-your-head-up-by-andy-grammer/

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2016 April PAD Challenge: Day 21 – Good Fences

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For today’s prompt, write a poem that responds (or somehow communicates) with another poem.

Robert Frost: Mending Wall

‘Good fences make good neighbours.’

These words echo in my head

As my aging neighbour

Rails against me for not fixing the fence.

The palings were once pristine

Back in the nineteen fifties

But like so much that ages

Needs propping up in places

Patched in others

Is well past its use by date.

Finances are limited

Children a greater priority to fences

But a neighbour must be kept on side

Sacrifices are made

A new fence ordered.

A new shiny steel one

High enough so my neighbour cannot see over

But he’s happy knowing

‘Good fences make good neighbours.’

 

Written for: http://www.writersdigest.com/whats-new/2016-april-pad-challenge-day-21

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FLASH FICTION FOR THE PURPOSEFUL PRACTITIONER: WEEK #17 – 2016 – The Salute

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Image: https://pixabay.com/en/car-driving-road-dashboard-wheel-316709/

 

The opening sentence for the April 21st Flash Fiction for the Purposeful Practitioner: “I’m sure that the little girl in that back seat was signing us…”

 

I’m sure that the little girl in that back seat was signing us but I looked sideways at mother who was sitting there in her usual rigid way staring off into some place in her past.

If she saw that the little girl was giving her the one finger salute she wasn’t saying.

In the past she would have insisted we pull along side the car so she could give the parent driving a good piece of her mind.

But today mother seemed distracted, a long way away and she wasn’t saying anything much to anyone. Which was a good thing as normally it would have been a whinge about this and a whine about that.

Today we were on our way to Aunt Bertha’s funeral. Bertha was mum’s older sister and a dear old lady at that.

As we came to the edge of town the car in front slowed and indicated a left hand turn.

We slowed down as well and mum looked up with a slight grin on her face, as we veered round the car and shocked me by turning to the little girl and returning her salute.

 

Written for: https://rogershipp.wordpress.com/2016/04/21/flash-fiction-for-the-purposeful-practitioner-week-17-2016/

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