From Wikipedia, some facts about the cicadas assaulting out ears in some portions of America:Continue reading “Nature (tanka)”
Seeing a rose, I once said that we stand out like that, red on green, and you reply, tongue-in-cheek, you mean like an ambulance at 3 AM in a Mississippi swamp and I shut up, crushed, like you’d said we were an accident that had been waiting to happen, as if crucial to finding the way is this: there is no beginning or end, just a screeching of brakes, a clang of metal, the jolting of bones, and then the long drawn out police report and insurance claims, a ledger of rights and wrongs, and the spindrift pages in the moonlit night where my heart spills and the nightingale vies with a shrike impaled on a thorny bush that ought to have a bloom, a rose, while someone, no one, looks for a medic to resuscitate the dead in an ambulance at 3 AM.
you are told
this was an accident,
caused by your increasing crescendo
of scorn, my darling,
in (what your sort) calls poetry.
Poetry is simply
breaking through walls.
[Addendum for Friday Fictioneers:]
United World Chronicle, 6/5/2100: Missing Woman.
Christina Lightfoot left this note and photograph for her fiancé, Lord Ettlesworth. After multiple crashes, she successfully flew her automobile into outer space. The vehicle reportedly runs on a nuclear-powered, zero-gravity generator. The World Authorities Commission Force (WACF) is requesting information in return for zero lifetime taxes on sales, income, property, and travel.
For Rochelle's Friday Fictioneers (100 words or less; click frog for more) and Sammi's Weekend Writing Prompt, 37 words, "Crescendo."
Nothing in you, nothing in me,
Nothing as far as eye can see
Nothing to say who made me,
Nothing makes itself plain to me
Nothing will be my guide and creed
No absolutes but what my thoughts decree
Ruler of my own destiny
Master of sky, land and sea
No limit to whatever desires mingle, set free
It’s all about me, from A to Z
I’m free to decide what’s best for me
What’s wrong for you may be right for me
Ask Mother Nature, what’s cruelty?
Evolution’s progress, look at me!
– Last sounds of Nobigbug Butméé
Word Count: 100
I’ve been rather under the weather lately but roused myself to participate in Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers and Eugi’s Weekly Prompt. I’ve read many of the entries already and am inspired. Eugi asks us to use any variation on the top photo or the word prompt (“mingle”). Rochelle asks that we use the photo prompt (above) and limit our words to 100 or less. Check them out!
For Cee's FOTD
Exit hare pursued by iPhone camera.
For Debbie's Six Word Saturday Challenge
from seeds, and seeds
from flowers, the ground tills
itself as the seasons
roll forward in
cannot hold back
the changes, no matter
when changes make beauty
shine brighter in
a ginkgo’s viewpoint
is so simple
God our Maker
are you hearing?
oh stop and listen!