Tag Archives: 27 more days

“I think I’m gonna Scream”.. prompt 3


prompt for today…

Describe a moment when the dull drone of a conversation is completely consumed by the utter boring chatter about something you not only don’t care about AT All, and you really aren’t even sure what they are talking about about, and you think perhaps you might just scream. 

As prompts go for me, I’m not even sure that I write about the prompt, only that I’m moved by some piece of it that rises up and needs me to write it.  This is what came up for me. And BTW, this Is fiction.  Incase you were wondering.

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Dig in to the compassion bag

Pull up the open heart

Flip on a smile like a Light

in this dark cave of endless

self pity that might glimmer

a little joy in the drone of his

20 years of unrequited grieving.

 

Look at the faded smile of her

gaunt face surrounded by

three sad little children in a cluster

huddled around her. A wallet album

of two decades ago showing the faded

journey of her slow relentless dying

Every picture turns a crush of the heart

 

It’s not like I don’t care  in that way

that humans care when suffering

of the heart shrouds another human

in the presence of a moments despair.

And the on and on of grief tugs hard

at the heart in hopes of a sweet fix

for a fellow traveler.

 

There is no pretend that there is want

for an end to this story, these pictures,

this old ramble that finds no silence

except mine in the sitting here listening

over coffee hoping this unbearable moment

will end soon before the rude in me rises

in a quiet inner scream with interruption

and Mr. Sad and Pathetic

again, gets no second date

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Filed under BE HERE NOW, BIRTH. LIFE. DEATH, WRITER'S PROMPT

‘Outta Here’ prompt #1


I joined a little group for 27 days of prompts.  This is the first prompt (in green) .  The poem below it is where it all took me.  It isn’t where I thought it would go and I let be.

“  Outta Here…

You know that feeling when you’re driving and you realize, My god, if I keep going, if I pass my own exit, I’ll be in Mexico by morning. They won’t even know I’m gone – it’ll take hours before anyone starts asking questions. New life, bring cash, get an apartment, better yet, a cottage behind someone’s house, keep a low profile, make up a new name, start over, begin again. Go. Write. Get off at the next exit. Where does your new life take you?”

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Outta here…

 

Outta here is a familiar road traveled

It’s been a run away that wasn’t always

Isn’t always about asphalt or some degraded

Back road lead by a compass to no-where-in particular

 

Outta here runs the emotional gambit

To an overwhelm that rises up and gasps

And grasps at the air for some leverage

How do you hold on to your breath and live?

 

Outta here leaves hurt hearts and confusion

A trip no one welcomes when the face of reality

Begs for clarity and a wonder of what wasn’t

Enough in the conversation that didn’t happen.

 

Outta here might allude to some sunny sky

And the wind catching in your hair just right

Or maybe the scenery makes no demands

Other than to consume it with your eyes

 

Outta here from where the starting place

Clawed for the ‘gotta get outta here right now’

With a slammed door or worse a silent exit

Has a short life of breeze and ease

 

Sooner or later the destination comes

And Outta Here is right here where you are

Where you’ve always been with yourself

And you didn’t get anywhere far or fast

 

Only a little while of false freedom

Cause you’re never free till your heart

Gives it truth and the Outta Here is

Always really about going In Here deep

 

Where you really wanted to go

And got all scared and worried

Imagining that the only way in was out

When the only way Outta here is In.

 

 

 

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Filed under ANN ARBOR, BE HERE NOW