Between Identities

 
I

Sitting, singing on the street,
Voice turned-off from drugs,
His fingers playing on and on.
They still recall an ancient song
That brought him love and hugs.


II

She pours her years into the child
Who digs soft, shallow sand.
He takes those years and buries them
To seed their future land.


III

The trolley takes me round and round
For free. I listen to the sound
Of Spanish first, some English, too.
The Sun knows what it has to do.
The sky will keep the water blue.
I board and leave the ground.

Linked to dVerse Poetics where Gina is hosting with the theme of balancing identities with poetic hum. I hope between those three identities there rises a poetic hum.

Sort of Round and Sort of Not

Technology: Chisel

Brad knew he didn’t have the proper tools to do the job right, but he rarely did. The door and opener cost under $50. He’d reuse the old hinges.

He did have to buy a chisel. They told him he couldn’t return it when he was done. He could live with that.

After sort of measuring everything, he realized it wasn’t as easy as he thought to carve out where the hinges should go.

Eventually in spite of everything he hung the door.

Happy wife happy life: she was happy. For the most part the new door even closed.


Linked to Carrot Ranch where the theme for the 99-word stories is chisel and to K’lee and Dale’s Cosmic Photo Challenge where the theme is technology.

New Door Old Reality
New Door Old Reality

One-Liner Wednesday – Life Journey

We’re all on life journeys, but we sometimes forget those around us are on one too.

Linked to Linda G. Hill’s One-Liner Wednesday. The idea for this one-liner came from reading Pragalbha’s poem, Often this is true.

#1linerWeds badge by Cheryl, at dreamingreality646941880.wordpress.com/
#1linerWeds badge by Cheryl, at dreamingreality646941880.wordpress.com/

Spike

 
I practice breathing given air.
It doesn’t matter that I like
To spike what’s real with worries where
What’s unreal gets the loudest mike.
Sometimes practicing goes slow
Wondering if I’ll ever know
How to breathe. I’d rather not.
Mindlessly I breathe a lot.

Linked to dVerse Quadrille where De Jackson is hosting with theme work “spike”.

pines
pines

Other Worldly

I move my black mouse and click. I know I should be doing other things.

“Like what?” That silent voice inside me asks.

Well, like watching this orange sunset or bothering that white bird sitting for no good reason on the railing or contemplating the other worldly mysteries of this grand universe.

Knowing I have no clue, I hear. “Really, like what?”

So I let my inner squeaky wheel, my imaginary “friend”, guide me downward into the depths of another suspicious, weedy, mosquito-loving rabbit hole I have no business exploring. But what else, really, do I have to do?


Linked to Carrot Ranch’s March 7th 99-word flash fiction challenge using “mouse”. Also this will be linked on Monday to K’lee and Dale’s Cosmic Photo Challenge with the theme “in the realm of the other worldly”.

At Least It’s Not a Raven Pecking Pecking at My Door

A time to weep; a time to laugh

When our cat died, we wept. We looked at each other differently, with more patience and not taking the other for granted, for about a week feeling her presence in her absence.

Eventually laughter returned. Whatever we learned, and will have to learn again with the next dying we face, laughter was no disrespect for her passing. The return of laughter was her gift of gratitude to us.


Linked to dVerse Poetics where Lillian is hosting. I look at this as a prose poem or aphorism.

Many Birds