Photo Prompt #99 February 9, 2016 – The Bearded Man

Posted on February 9, 2016 by Michael

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It was more than wisdom

The man possessed.

You enter his space

His presence greets you

Even before he enters the room.

There is a hushed silence

Whispers go round

Expectations and past tales

Of prophecy and revelation.

A crude drum beats,

The room is hushed

The bearded man enters and we stare

In wonder that this is the one

The man we have travelled so far to see

Looking like any other person off the street.

But it’s his eyes that draw us in.

He sits and looks down on us

Then smiles shyly

And looks at me.

His head tilts slightly to one side as he begins

Regaling me with my life.

I am embarrassed

As it’s been one of constant impurity

Lust and desire.

‘The road to love,’ he says ‘is tricky

You have encountered so many obstacles,

Things that got in the way

Leaving you floundering in loneliness.

Have faith you know there is one

Whose path is as rocky as yours

But whose heart beats in time with you.

Patience is more than a virtue

It can and will drive you mad

But worth the effort

As is the one your heart goes out to.’

He smiled at me

My heart swelled,

I wanted to flee that place

Relate my experience.

For the first time in so long

I felt hope.

 

Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2016/02/09/photo-prompt-99-february-9-2016/

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FFfAW – Week of February 9, 2016 – The Tree

Posted on February 8, 2016 by Michael

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My girl and I have been coming to this same seat for as long as we have been courting. A long time.

It’s our seat.

Then the tree moved in and plonked itself on one end.

To make matters worse it shakes its leaves over our end of the seat.

It’s most inconsiderate.

It will grudgingly allow us to sit on the three quarters it didn’t occupy but its rough trunk is enough to put aside any romantic intentions we both have. Every time we get close it rustles its leaves and leans in on me.

As for conversation that is all but impossible. We have to whisper in our respective ears but that is fraught with danger as it leans across threatening to upset the balance of bottoms on the seat.

Tonight though I have my new shiny chain saw to make a few changes with.

 

Written for: https://flashfictionforaspiringwriters.wordpress.com/2016/02/08/fffaw-week-of-february-9-2016/

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Writing Prompt #145 “What do you weigh?” – Love

Posted on February 8, 2016 by Michael

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h1I_hFwzOYA

 

The question was what do you value

How do you want to be weighed?

Do I have any defining moments?

I thought the obvious thing is my children

If you’ve read this blog before you’d know

That I hold them in the highest of regard

Proud of them beyond words.

My career as a teacher

Gave me so many wonderful moments

Ones I’ll hold close forever.

But beyond that I like that I have given opportunity.

To my children, to my students

I expected to do that.

What I didn’t anticipate

Was showing a dear friend that there was more to life

Than the hum drum of everyday.

Old age is not just about the wrinkles and slowing down

With it comes wisdom

Which so many older folk possess.

But also comes the realisation that love is still possible

That our bodies may be aging and slowing down

But our will to live is forever strong

As is our need to love and be loved.

I reached out and touched the heart

Of a beautiful woman

One who had thought her days were

Destined to be same as, same as.

I have seen her shine,

I have seen her come alive

I have seen her sparkle.

Of course I have to say

It has been reciprocated.

So weigh me as never giving up

Knowing love exists

Its there, you have to find it

Grab it, nurture it

Have all the fun with it you can

Despite the obstacles you see daily in front of you.

Like in the video, you can’t measure it

But living it

Sure as hell

Beats denying it.

 

Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2016/02/07/writing-prompt-145-what-do-you-weigh/

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Wordle #97 “February 8, 2015” – It’s an Avocado!!

Posted on February 8, 2016 by Michael

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This week’s words to play with: Sleep Electroshock Visceral (characterized by or proceeding from instinct rather than intellect: characterized by or dealing with coarse or base emotions; earthy; crude) Timepiece Cleanse Elastic Feeble Avocado Twirl Tincture (Pharmacology. a solution of alcohol or of alcohol and water, containing animal, vegetable, or chemical drugs. a slight infusion, as of some element or quality: a trace; a smack or smattering; tinge : Heraldry. any of the colors, metals, or furs used for the fields, charges,etc., of an escutcheon or achievement of arms. a dye or pigment. verb (used with object), tinc·tured, tinc·tur·ing. to impart a tint or color to; tinge. to imbue or infuse with something.) Syncopate (to place (the accents) on beats that are normally unaccented, to treat (a passage, piece, etc.) in this way. Grammar. to contract (a word) by omitting one or more sounds fromthe middle, as in reducing Gloucester to Gloster.) Foggy

‘Its an avocado!!’ he boomed his voice echoing through the foggy night as strange men in black coats checked their watches in syncopated rhythm.

It was like watching some choreographed performance.

A large man with a large voice, holding an avocado, announcing its presence. A chorus of dark men in dark clothes checking watches and then placing them back into their fob pockets, shaking their heads and muttering to themselves as they tapped their feet upon the cobblestones.

We watched this spectacle as if awakening from a sleep, the noise of voices, the sight of men checking clocks and the ever looming threat of something very untoward about to happen was as if we were brought to life as if by some visceral electroshock designed to confront us with an experience that we would later describe as one where if you were there you felt it, as it wrapped itself around your consciousness and massage your brain with thought waves you thought should be contained in a bottle of cleansing liquid.

My focus was on the men with their meticulous timepieces, as they replaced them in their fobs and then twirled their moustaches each had a tincture of red through their upper hairy lips, which only served to increase the shock of the visceralness of the moment.

We sat mesmerised by the performance knowing there was nothing feeble in this wondrous performance, which held us spellbound throughout.

Each time the action moved one way and we as audience went in that direction the performers as if holding us on the end of giant elastic bands would bring us back to the centre of the action.

Needless to say by nights end sleep was a welcome relief and for each of us the humble avocado took on a whole new dimension.

 

Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2016/02/08/wordle-97-february-8-2015/

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Tale Weaver #51 – Footsteps – Mudstop Manor

Posted on February 8, 2016 by Michael
approaching footsteps

approaching footsteps – clip art illustration

 

Mudstop Manor sat atop the Mudstop swamp down the street from my house.

It was a strange and mysterious place with comings and goings at all hours of the day and night.

Murder and mayhem were common occurrences. An occupational hazard for anyone silly enough to venture into the swamp.

It was on the Tuesday that it all happened. A happening more than any ordinary happening as this time there were witnesses.

Harvey Halfbaked saw it all. Or so he said.

Harvey was known to exaggerate most things but this time he was adamant that what he saw did actually happen.

It was the footsteps he said that drew his attention. Footsteps going to the Manor and not coming from it.

Inside the manor the body of Ignatius Goodgracious lay in a blood splattered room. The good Ignatius who was very dead by this stage had been on any other day of his life the life and death of any party. Ignatius was a real party killer.

He could clear a room just by entering it.

Now his body was drawing more attention than it ever did when it was alive.

Harvey claimed the Butler did it but everyone knew that was a most preposterous notion as the Butler, 94 year old Stormie Weathers had enough trouble walking let alone swinging an axe as this murderer had appeared to do.

It was then that Harvey admitted his silent vendetta against Stormie a new kid on the block when it came to butlering, having started his life as a butler at age 87 and in doing so he’d put Harvey’s nose out of joint as Harvey considered himself a shoe in for the job.

Stormie then pointed an aged finger at Harvey accusing him of scoundrelling and giving him a bad name.

It was the blood on Harvey’s shirt and pants that gave him away. Weighed down with so much evidence against him he confessed, admitted to laying the footsteps in such a way as to create a nuisance, said he went to the Manor to discuss with Ignatius the weekends Croquet match when Ignatius swung his mallet and almost killed Harvey. Things got out of hand when Harvey grabbed the fireman’s axe from the fire cupboard and found himself swinging with gay abandon severing a lot of Ignatius before sense prevailed and he stopped and surveyed his destruction.

Crestfallen Harvey was taken away and never seen again, BUT each year on the anniversary a set of footsteps appears at the entrance to Mudstop Manor, going to the manor but never returning.

 

Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2016/02/04/tale-weaver-49-footsteps/

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Music Prompt #27: “Trouble in River City” from the musical “The Music Man”

Posted on January 30, 2016 by Michael

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s60hOgqLFGg

 

 

There was trouble there was no doubt,

For in a house of men there were issues

Where cleaning was concerned.

There was trouble brewing,

Concern growing and a lot of worry.

Dusting was not high on any agenda

As for polishing, what’s that you say?

For the mites came and went as they pleased

The tracks through the grime

Like jungle paths of creeping lantana

Never bothered the boys but the mites complained

As it slowed down their mitiness

And they dreaded the day the duster came out

And upset their cultured ecosystem.

There was trouble there was no doubt

For the bathroom was no better,

It was a place to be scrubbed clean

How could it get so grubby?

When constantly water flowed?

The toilet itself was another issue

As boys who don’t take care

Splash and drip and leave their mark.

There was trouble there was no doubt

When the woman came to stay

Looked about and announced most clear

“This just wont do.

I’m not placing my china best

Upon this dusty shelf

And I certainly wont be placing my derriere

Upon this filthy seat.”

Trouble had in fact come to stay

So cleaning clothes and dusters many

Were sent into the fray.

Surfaces cleaned and faces gleamed

Mirrors shined and toilets discovered

And Trouble smiled and said

“Dear boys I knew you could all do it.”

In a dark corner in a dark room

The mites gathered and plotted a plan

Dust to dust and mites are mites

They chanted into the dark

Just as Trouble surface sprayed.

 

Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2016/01/29/music-prompt-27-trouble-in-river-city-from-the-musical-the-music-man/

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SoCS Jan. 30/16 – ‘an’

Posted on January 30, 2016 by Michael

 

socs-badge-2015

This week’s prompt: “an”

On any other day I’d be over the moon as anyone at an anniversary.

But I could see through her devious attention seeking plan and I was not having a bar of it. It wasn’t the first time either, no siree!!

On another occasion she had announced to the world that her friend Annalise McAnal, the android looking androgynous sounding woman from Annyville was coming to visit and we all had to bow and scrape to acknowledge her and to keep her from once again chucking a right royal tantrum.

The big day arrived and one again, as if on cue, it all started. Annalise turned up looking more androgynous than ever, she sprouted some vague analogy about life not taking her seriously, another woman equally as strange stood and threw her clothes at the stage causing yet another woman to faint and have to be carried away leaving only Annalise upon the stage. It turned out that the woman standing naked was antichristian, antiabortion and anti everything Annalise stood for which in itself was an antithesis to us all.

So you can see my aversion of anniversaries as whilst they may well be warranted one can’t but feel it is another day in another time and one can only cope with so many anothers.

Written for: http://lindaghill.com/2016/01/29/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-jan-3016/

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Tale Weaver #50: “sending out an SOS” – Message in a Bottle

Posted on January 28, 2016 by Michael

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Dear Friends

This tale is the most amazing I have ever received and I acquired it by sheer accident. Last Friday as I was walking along the beach near home I came across a bottle washed up on the shore. Inside was a note and a note like I never suspected.

I pulled the note from inside the bottle and unwrapped it.

I am going to relay the contents to you and ask what would you do in my shoes?

 

Dear Person who finds this note,

I desperately need your help.

Please call the police, the fire brigade,

All emergency services and bring a ladder.

I have found myself locked inside the Tale Weaver.

What you think is a gentle weekly prompt is in fact a portal to the most devilish of places.

I know it was my fault to challenge the hosts into a frenzied argument as the validity of fairy tales under the Tale Weaver banner but I felt something had to be done as these two people are riding roughshod over my creativity.

To be succinct they have cast a spell over me and I now find myself stuck in the Tale Weaver with no way out.

To be even more precise they have banished me to an eternity inside the Three Little Pigs tale.

Every day I watch the pigs building their houses, the wolf challenging them, huffing and puffing and in the end the wolf falls into the pot.

I’m getting tired of it and feeling like a real victim of ground hog day.

To be truthful the three pigs whose names should be Conceited, Despicable and Tiresome deserve everything they get apart from the wolf I have to say.

The wolf is quite a nice chap. always polite and well mannered not like the pigs who are ignorant and so up themselves it’s not funny.

In the time I have been here I have not been invited once to any of the pigs homes, probably I suspect as they don’t see a lot of future apart from sharing for ever with Tiresome the brick house pig and that couldn’t be in any way something to look forward to.

As it is the Wolf, whose name is Roger by the way, is the most welcoming fellow. Each afternoon after the story is complete and his hide severely singed we meet for happy hour. Roger stocks the most delightful red wines from the Hunter Valley In Australia, how he has them is beyond me but I can never say no to a glass or three.

Added to that he cooks like an master chef and the meals we have shared have each one exceeded the other…..what he can do with a leg of pork you have to taste to believe.

But I can’t and won’t see myself stuck in here forever.

Please alert the necessary authorities and I implore you to rescue me as soon as possible.

Yours sincerely

Mwfnjefjac

The signature was blurred, probably a drop of seawater leaked in onto his signature.

So friends I am open to suggestions as to how to rescue this man from the clutches of the Tale Weavers…. I am careful not to name them for, as you know, ONE DARES NOT SAY THEIR NAMES!!!!

 

 

Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2016/01/28/tale-weaver-50-sending-out-an-sos-2/

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Photo Challenge # 97: January 26, 2016 – Winter Walk

Posted on January 26, 2016 by Michael

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Image: Poppy by Liz West CC BY 2.0

 

It was the winter chills that led to the whole incident taking place. You’d been stuck inside as the rain, snow and winter winds kept all but the hardy from venturing out.

You said on more than one occasion that you could feel yourself going stir crazy and as much as I was delightful company there was a limit to my bubbling personality.

So when a break in the weather came you looked out and announced it was time to walk and enjoy the rare day of winter sunshine.

So dressing in the lightest of clothing, enough to keep out the chill but not restrict our walk we headed off.

Your whole personality changed with the step out the door.

You suddenly became energised, you skipped ahead of me, you challenged me to a race to the first corner and you actually meant a running race, which I am loath to say you won hands done. Age sucks as you know and running anywhere is not what my body is enthusiastic about.

So we continued on in this effervescent way until we reached Jonas’ poppy farm.

You stood there admiring the vast expanse of orange poppies waving seductively in the breeze.

You suddenly announced that you were going in. I should point out that old man Jonas was not averse to shooting at any one who ventured into his poppy paddock.

Before I could utter any objections you were over the fence and running wildly amongst the blooms.

That was ok I could understand your reaction to this sea of beauty, it would be normal after being shut up as we had been to want to enjoy this beauteous sight.

But my eye brows were raised when I watched as you began to roll among the flowers, then on your back with your feet in the air, shoeless by now, calling to me to join you, that you were going to cast off all your clothes and frolic with gay abandon there and then.

“Join me, join me,” you implored but I stood there frozen to the spot, I’d never seen you behave in this way.

My reluctance rubbed off on you, thank goodness, and you soon returned to me and we sat beside the road looking at the sea of orange.

“I felt like a puppy let out to run wild, I wanted to roll in the flowers with my feet in the air imagining my tail wagging like crazy.” You said reflecting on what had just happened.

Giggling to yourself I helped you to your feet and holding my hand we headed back towards home as on the horizon the dark clouds of the next storm gathered all the forces it was going to need to confine us once again.

 

Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2016/01/26/photo-challenge-97-january-26-2016/

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FFfAW – Week of January 26, 2016 – Joy’s 50th Prompt

Posted on January 26, 2016 by Michael

photo-20160125132605717

Joy awoke and looked at her clock.

It was one a.m.

Oh my goodness she thought its Tuesday and I have a prompt to send out.

She did a double take when she realised that today was the 50th prompt.

Fifty she thought is a milestone.

I should be proud and I am.

I will have to make this a prompt to appeal to all comers from the many corners of the globe.

Its been a week of freezing my arse off in the cold so where better to look for a prompt that in the photo library of my good friend Sonya.

Ahhh yes Sun Flowers. Enough to warm up the cold and cool down the warm.

I think I’ll program into the computer starbursts for every entry this week, that should be fun….now do I do this? NO! Is it? No maybe? (KABOOM) Opps, maybe when we get to 100?

 

Written for: https://flashfictionforaspiringwriters.wordpress.com/2016/01/25/fffaw-week-of-january-26-2016/

Posted in Uncategorized, Writing prompt | Tagged , , | 50 Comments