Wolf / Human? You choose… #humor #poetry #dpchallenge

fuseli_nightmare

It was a cold and frothy night

blood dripped from my fangs

I shivered at the thought

I looked at myself in the reflection

“I’m a wolf why am I shivering?”

the inner me spoke

“you are human only when it suits me

and wolf when you are a beast”

I was reminded that as a human I’m vegan

I really can’t stand the sight of blood

and yet it tasted so good on my lips

“aack” I woke up with the dawn

“I hate those kind of dreams”

I thought as I padded to the sink

washing the stench of wolf from my nostrils

I failed to see the woman draped over my white sheets

*****

WordPress has a delightful prompt for today at Daily Post – Howl at the Moon

“Follow your inner moonlight; don’t hide the madness.” — Allen Ginsberg

Et Tu? Do you follow Ginsberg’s advice — in your writing and/or in your everyday life?

Thanks to Fuseli for inspiring so many with his painting The Nightmare which I believe is in the collection at the Tate.

Those Eyes #atoz #napomo #photography

She sat by the trickling stream deep in thought.

She gazed  at her only companion the moon; it was lovely and ethereal.

It reminded her of years of dreams. “If only…” She sighed.

Quietly he sat beside her; he wrapped his strong arms around her.

She leaned against his shoulder. He turned her face toward his. He gazed into the depth of her mesmerizing blue eyes.

“Those eyes, I know those eyes.” He could have looked there forever.

He traced her face with his thumb. He combed his fingers through her long, silky hair.

He breathed in the clean fragrance of her.

His finger traced her lips and paused.

He lowered his lips to hers so gentle yet filled with unspoken desire.

“Those lips…” taste of a lifetime of hope, of waiting, of …

…The breeze gently lifted a tendril of her hair and caressed her cheek.

She leaned in to whisper a kiss on lips never forgotten.

He was gone…

where did he go?????  the reader asks

Thanks to the A to Z challenge co-hosts for the daily fun.

photography: “La Luna”  & “Garden Path” copyright 2012 L. Moon

Raven’s Rain #microfiction #magpietales

I looked in her eyes.

So much sorrow

so  much pain.

As tears began to fall

they were more turbulent

than the rain

what can I do

to remove this blight?

for she is my everything

my true love’s delight!

Yet what can a mere

black raven do?

I  am small

meaningless

insignificant too!

Then I heard

the wind’s roar through the rain.

I will turn her black as the night

give her feathers

remove this bane.

We will never caress

nor will we embrace.

But of her tears

there is no memory nor trace.

thanks to Magpie Tales for a wonderful challenge to put this picture to words and to the beautiful Tess Kincaid who makes this happen

Go for Broke #442nd #memorialday

You always amazed me with that sweet quiet smile
I would pull into my driveway we always talked for awhile
I loved the deep brown wrinkles that formed a content countenance
I never saw a frown as you leaned over our fence
So few of us knew the layers of the real you

A master gardener for a well known  organization was your due

Your work was written up in magazines here and nation wide
I saw those gardens – you have the perfect eye
How surprised was I to find in a simple interview
Of your marked heroism your bravery too
Your dear precious wife proudly brought out your medal
so I plied the story – you played like a fiddle
Layer by layer your story was told
relocated to Tanforan’s racetrack where horses were foaled

Your farms taken your family sent afar
I knew very little then about Manzanar
there I saw “off limits” and shame in your eyes

When that place was mentioned a place you despised

You were proud to be a Nisei son
your parents sought a better life not to be shunned
How could a nation summarily label you as the enemy?
But they did so without thinking – it was delivered shamefully
You were just 18 when you signed for the 442nd
You would have signed up to fight with any unit I reckon
Proud were you and your Japanese brothers

To fight under the American flag you had no druthers

“Go for Broke” was your cry

Many young lives for America died

Each of you shed blood for the cause

Didn’t America know it was their loss?
That limp so dear to me came with pride
to carry several fallen back to safety one lived another died
You are a hero in many eyes
You bring beauty into the world every day

The flowers your beauty always on display

But the thing I realize I see

Is a man with a rich history

And now when I see you I ponder awhile
I dwell on the heart of the man with the tanned wrinkled smile

“I can’t tell you how much I appreciate the opportunity to tell you what you have done for this country.
You fought not only the enemy, but you fought prejudice.
And you won.
You have made the Constitution stand for what it really means: the welfare of all the people, all the time.”
– President Harry S. Truman speaking to the 100th Battalion and 442nd Regimental Combat Team, July 15, 1946

At least I can spell inept – a blog

Today I had one of those days.

Spell it out and one word appears -Inept

Inept? Let’s see what Webster says:

Adjective

  • Not elegant or graceful in expression; “an awkward prose style”; “a clumsy apology”; “his cumbersome writing style”; “if the rumor is true, can anything be more inept than to repeat it now?”.
  • Revealing lack of perceptiveness or judgment or finesse; “an inept remark”; “it was tactless to bring up those disagreeable”.

Inept in my life:

I’m a writer.  I definitely have “cumbersome writing style” moments or I can be so inept that I miss “it” in a particular piece of  prose. When I am inept as a writer, however, no one gets hurt. My poetry I realize can dig pretty deep. Poetry does that it can be fun loving but often poetry aims at the heart. My poetry aims at the heart in this case like a dart.

I’m also a friend. I love people and I believe am generous and sensitive. But I am also the friend who lacks tact or fails at perception. I don’t even see it when I say something that is offensive or thoughtless.  I must have been born with an inept gene. No excuse.

So what do I do to repair my prose? Tighten it up I suppose.

What do I do to repair the breach with a friend? No word can erase the message I send.

So in the future words of mine take note. Before writing or speaking, take a vote. Learn from the past trend- lest  ineptitude  become a friend.

Today’s motto: Words  are expendable- friends are not!