Marking Time

walmart man

photo courtesy of Kellie Elmore

Born through the grace and mercy of the Lord

Workin’ on Papa’s farm since my feet taught me to walk

Mama called me shy, her worried little boy

Happy to plow them fields sunrise to sunset

Got called up at eighteen to kill the commies in ‘Nam

Found myself knee deep in rice paddies

or in jungles lined with mines and leeches

Saw friends lose their limbs and lives

Lost my mind

Drownin’ in the blood left on those hills and in those huts

Red the common color in comrades, babies and women

Numbed my soul in the arms of yellow girls and in bottles of hooch

Got myself hooked on smack when the demons ruled my dreams

When the killin’ was done, they brought me home

Leavin’ me with nothin’ but the ghosts carried home in bags or draped in flags

Papa died while I was gone and Mama sold the farm

Found myself on the streets lookin’ for the next fix

‘Til the shelter took me in and cleaned me up

Spend my days workin’ the soup line and waitin’ for the clinic to open up

Livin’ and dyin’ through the grace and mercy of the Lord

Another great one from Kellie Elmore this week We wrote a story from this image that she posted on Instagram. His name is John. Check others’ out at:

#FWF Free Write Friday: Image Prompt

Acadia, Acadia

Photo credit: colonelssuites.com

A rough hewn beauty

A rocky coast of sheer cliffs

Fallen, red hued boulders

made smooth and slick

by the North Atlantic’s unforgiving surf

Glaciers melted and heaved up pieces of Earth

Towers above the indigo ocean below

Icy still as we shock our bodies with the cold

A fertile ground for lobsters and clams

Those delectable and delicious creatures of the deep

Forest dense with birch, pine and oak

Dotted with flora and fauna

too fragile for our feet

Damp and verdant

Cool to touch

Much like its natatory cousin

Mountains

Ragged Craggy Jagged

Haphazard Unpredictable Asymmetrical

We scramble, scamper and slide

as we ascend the winding paths to your peaks

Within these hills lie lakes

Eagle Jordan Echo

Serene and Still

A stark contrast to the sea’s roaring waves

Surrounded by bubbles of peaks

Long endless bottomless

Acadia Acadia

We feel your sacred ancientness

in the oversized gems beneath our feet

in the majesty of your pines

in the scent of the briny air

Stories told and untold

Secrets kept and revealed

Geographical Escape 3.4: Sirens Song

https://buildingalifeofhope.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/07/191c9-sirens.jpg

photo credit: www.mywanderingstory.com

He had set foot in an alternate reality. On the outside,the building looked as if it were a residence with many rooms. However, with the exception of the ante-room and a small number of private rooms on the upper floors, the inside had the look and feel of flowered  gardens bursting with color. Dispersed throughout were pools laced with lily pads and small waterfalls. Butterflies flitted about adding depth and grace to this verdant paradise. In the distance, he heard the sounds of flutes and stringed instruments.

Aurora was dressed in a sheer red wrap that revealed her nakedness in just the right places. She was holding Tom’s hand gently in hers as she gave him a tour of the facilities. When he arrived once again at the residence, the men removed his clothing and donned him in a white wrap for comfort. As he walked with Aurora, Tom took in all the sights and sounds. In the rooms above, whispered ecstasy. In the pools below, synchronous sensuality. Some bathed each other as they would a newborn child. Others caressed as lovers would. The reverberation of their harmonious climaxes nearly drove him to tears.

But it was the sound of melodious singing that was drawing Tom to yet another pooled Eden. Before him were several women playing and singing in the water. They washed their long tresses and cleansed their bodies. They were lovely. Goddesses. Queens. Deities. He got down on his knees at the water’s edge. One beauty took his hand into the soothing water. The music lulled him into a state of perfect bliss.  He opened his mouth to drink their elixir. His eyes became heavy. His body limp as he fell into a deep and permanent slumber.

“Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention please.” Tom woke with a start. The pilot was speaking.  “We are having engine trouble and our flight is being diverted to Louis Port Regional Airport.” He rubbed his eyes. First, a sigh of relief came over him as he realized it all had been a dream. Yes, he had been to San Fransisco for work. No, he had not strayed this time.  But then a sense of horrible dread invaded him. Louis Port-his childhood home- was the place where it all began and ended.

Underground Hope

photo credit: gorilla-ink.deviantart.com

They had prepared well.  Jack was a Plan C man and he had paid attention to the changes in the government. He knew it would only be a matter of time before they came for his wife and made her into one of their breeding vessels. The Restitution Party had slowly taken over the country. In  its quest for power and plan for adherence to the strict rules of  Spiritual Law, they had “disappeared”  the “undesirable” elements of the population.

There had been armed revolts with loss of life on both sides. During a lull, Jack had built a bunker for his family and friends. His engineering skills provided them with a state of the art shelter. Over time, they had stocked it with arms, food, clothes, books and seeds for planting. It would keep his family safe for years.  He gathered friends from the “undesirable” elements of the population and aided them in their protection efforts. Each person brought special skills to the group that would help them rebuild their nation.
Soon they were ready for what was to come.  When the violence commenced, they dropped into blackness. And waited.  And then it happened.  Jack and the leaders in the other bunkers flipped the switch.  One explosion after another lit the sky above them. What followed was an eerie quiet. Then the sound of birds.

Slowly, the bunker doors opened. Before them lay destruction. In the distance a white flag.  It was time for The Renewal. A place where all were free.

 

Kellie Elmore’s Free Write Friday Prompt for July 19th, 2013. Check out what others have written @ http://kellieelmore.com/2013/07/19/fwf-free-write-friday-time-place-scenario-6/

Geographical Escape 2.8: The Eye of the Storm

photo credit: www.atmos.washington.edu

Her earthy sensuality drew him to her like a magnet. He had not wanted to attend the art show opening but Joe had insisted he give it a try. Karen’s good friend, Ella, was showing her paintings and sculptures at a local but well-known gallery that night. Joe wanted another guy to join him.  He knew that Tom, his long-time friend since childhood, would not let him down.

He was surprised by the emotions her work evoked in him.  The images varied; landscapes, abstracts, etc. But it was the ones that displayed human relationships that grabbed his heart. He found himself not able to stand, so he took a seat by a window bench. From this vantage point he was able to observe the easy way she worked the room. She had a peaceful charisma about her and laughed easily. To Tom, she was the piece de resistance- a woman who possessed both an inner and outer beauty. Her auburn hair flowed onto her shoulders, her green eyes glimmered, her skin was neither porcelain nor olive toned. It exuded warmth- a place where he could softly land.

She found him there after the show was done.  “You look a bit out of your element,” she said.

“I want to buy one of your pieces,” he replied.

They had been inseparable ever since. Her calming self-assured nature provided him with a sense of peace that he had never known.  Together they created a life filled with children and solid friendships.

She still painted and sculpted in between raising the kids and creating a home. She had become active in the valley’s art community and it was there that she met the president of a nearby art college. He was impressed by her work and her leadership as well as  her promotion of the arts at the local level. He offered her a teaching position at the school and also wanted to commission her work.

As a result of this offer, Ella wanted to expand her studio space to the room above the garage. She had even gone as far as accepting a few bids for the job. Moreover, she had quickly said yes to the position. All three kids were in school full time and her schedule would easily fit in with theirs.

Tom completely supported her executive decision. His relief at not being caught helped make it easy for him. Summer ended. Fall began.  Work buzzed along smoothly. The studio went up quickly. When he had to work late, he would often find her there lost in her work. Many nights they made love on the floor amidst the spilled colors and clumps of clay. Her lips always offering words of love. Her hips like pearls of water.  Her skin once again giving him a soft place to land.

Summer Morning

photo credit: inspirationfeed.com

 The air is already thick with heat

 as I creep outside in my bare feet

The cool morning dew relieves

the daily ache in my feet and toes

The wet blades stick to my heels

and sneak in between my skin

      A delicious delight

   dancing with the sensation

                                                             

The day is still at rest

Only the voice of the train whistle bellows

 low and heavy

     through the wall of humid air

      sounding tired too soon

The Getaway

 

Happy Friday!

The blog is taking a  week long  respite to  head for the mountains and roaring ocean for some much needed rest and relaxation with my fiance’. I will not avail myself of any technology during the trip short of my very outdated cell phone (in case of emergency). I will, however, bring my writer’s notebook and many books! The list includes Kellie Elmore’s  Magic in the Backyard and Francis Guenette’s Disappearing in Plain Sight !!

In the meantime I am republishing a post from October. Those who joined my following after March will find it timely I hope!

 

Unplugged

Solstice Walk

Summer Solstice

Then followed that beautiful season…Summer.

Filled was the air with a dreamy and magical light; and the landscape
lay as if new created in all the freshness of childhood.
~Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Slipping out of work day clothes

into shorts, sleeveless and sneakers

The stroll through the lush streets commences

The sun’s heat sinking into my exposed skin

Surrounded by summer sounds

Singing of tots on the swings

Smells of freshly sown grass

Visions of deep blue contrast with endless glaze of green

Slowly exhaustion gives way to serenity

I ascend towards the sounds of the clock tower bell

serenading us with its medley of silvery songs

I am in the midst of stones both ancient and unseasoned

The souls gather their dust in the soil

Lives well-lived

Basking beneath a daytime star

A perfect Free Write Friday prompt from Kellie Elmore today!  http://kellieelmore.com/2013/06/21/fwf-free-write-friday-quote-prompt-summer-solstice/

The Mat

Photo credit: www.treehugger.com

 

An island of respite and renewal

                Breathing in and out

Stretching limbs and opening  heart

               Tonight I embrace Down Dog

Ankles, Calves and Tendons

Express relief

               I am inverted

Straight Back

              Forward Bend

Rise Up to Sun A

                Bend and Breathe

Breathe and Bend

                Down Dolphin

Hold, Hold Hold

          Child’s Pose

Hero for those toes

            Warrior One

Crescent Lunge

            My Body Sighs

Wants Its Rest

           I Curl Up on my Right Side

The Night Air Cools

                     My Very Being

and Sings Its Song of Sweet Sleep

Gray Comfort

Photo credit:  images.qwqw.hu

Rain

Softly simmering

                                   Dripping

       Pitter-pattering outside my window

             Creating a calming comfort

                        A  Hush

        The cool, damp air envelops me as I lay down to rest

        Cars drive up the road, their tires whirling in the wetness

                        The rain is my lullaby

         Its voice sings me to sleep in its tranquil descent

               Outside, the night is meditating

                      Finding its drishte

Clearing the detritus of the day in the clarity of a blind mist