Archive for the ‘Uncategorized’ Category

Lessons

Posted: March 16, 2019 in Uncategorized

Oh, they call it the Luck o’ the Irish
But they know not what they’re sayin
for it’s the strength of we beansídhe,
our intertwined arms and legs
and songs sung when the boyos
are gone to fields
of war
and testosterone
that keeps our world in balance

Skirts gathered above the muck
we tend our family fields
Plant potatoes while
rearing children
hoping they turn out
far better than their elders

We teach daughters to
tend sheep
card wool
and knit sweaters
that announce our clan
with pride
And show them how to say
No!
That is not for me

The boys?
We do our best to
make them brave
and smarter than their fathers
None of us wants to lose
another
husband, father, son
to war

In the end,
the lot of us
help our boys muster
the strength
to avoid anger
And offer nothing less than peace

 

 

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Invasion

Posted: October 24, 2018 in Uncategorized

In response to today’s photo prompt, kindly posted by our fearless leader, Rochelle Wisoff-Fields, I’ve dipped my toes into the water of Sci-fi. Thanks to one and all who read my attempt! Happy Wednesday/Friday.

PHOTO PROMPT © Roger Bultot

Tiny creatures skittered beneath the dome of Bento’s trap.
Some had eight legs, others too many to count.
The first in the collecton were brilliant red and smelled like newly fallen rain.
This last batch, these puce-colored, two-headed beasts filled the dome with the stench of carrion.
And the screeches! That was the worst.

Still, Bento knew it was up to him to gather each and every one.
Whether it was covered in feathers or scales;
fell from the sky at noon, midnight or three.

The first hoard ate his father, the second his mother and son.

 

Win a doodle!

Posted: September 6, 2018 in Uncategorized
Tags: , , ,

My friend MIKE ALLEGRA is offering a chance to win a doodle! This is an offer you can’t refuse. Here’s how to do it https://mikeallegra.com/2018/09/06/win-a-doodle-anyone-guys/ GOOD LUCK!!!

Having been here many times, I have the advantage of knowing where Ted Strutz took this picture. There’s a great deal of history on this gorgeous island. Here’s a snippet for you to enjoy. I’ve added a link at the end so you can read more about Charles and Cutler. I have no idea if Charles had a wife. But that’s what fiction is for. Right? Thanks, Rochelle, for posting today’s Friday Fictioneer prompt.

“Heavens, Charles. The man shot your pig, not your father nor son.”
“Quiet! The wheels already turn. Just today Captain Pickett proclaimed, ‘We’ll make a Bunker Hill of it.'”
Celia raised an eyebrow.
“Cutler should, must be arrested for destroying British property. My stripes, the creature only ate a potato or two! ”
“The Americans are calling for military action. Do you realize you may be starting a war? Over a pig! Honestly, Charles.”
“In addition! Cutler told me I should have kept his potatoes out of my pig. Atrocious!”
Shaking her head, Celia pulled a ham from the oven.

Information about The Pig War https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pig_War_(1859)

 

Father’s Protection

Posted: July 21, 2018 in Uncategorized

Today Pegman took us to Melbourne, Australia. Scrolling through pictures, I found this hotel? restaurant? on planetware.com and found it quite unsettling. Thanks to Karen Rawson and Josh Hardy for providing us with Pegman fun.

Mother,

The skies have returned to glacier-ice blue. Five years passed before the greasy-black smoke of burning tires dissipated. We lived underground. The land is littered with grenades, bullets, and bones. We collect them, put them in piles for later use. Angelina builds walls from grenades. Now that sunlight sparks off the metallic angles, her structures are quite beautiful. Felicia creates windchimes from bullets and vines. If even one tree remained, we would hang her creations from the branches. Please, don’t worry, these reminders of war are no longer dangerous, Frederick has made it so.

What do I do? Build a place for each of us to live, safely and alone. Only four people remain but constructing homes from the bones of your loved ones takes time. Each is built with care.

Do not return. You would be uncomfortable here. My roof is made from Father’s ribs.

Sincerely, Damien

(150-words)

 

The Drowning

Posted: July 16, 2018 in Uncategorized

Today Pegman took us to Baltimore, Maryland where I found a little green boat I’d love to be in today. It’s hot for inhabitants of the Pacific Northwest and a wee paddle would be fun! Thanks to Karen Rawson and Josh Hardy for another great place to write about.

 

Yep, the last picture I took.

You old fool everyone knows you see things. And that photo’s so fuzzy just about anything could be floating in the water.
Have some soup, Papa.

She rises up at the strangest times. Sometimes beside lovers picnicking in their boats or little boys skipping rocks along the shore.

Geez if I hear this story one more time, I’ll stab my eyes out.
No soup, Papa? How about a biscuit with jam?

Doesn’t scare me. Nope! Not one bit. Fact is, I look forward to seeing her rise above the waves.

If there is a God, please let him sew this old man’s mouth shut.
Tomorrow we’ll go to the Ness and see what we can see. Maybe she’ll be there. Like hell.

You crazy?

You’re asking me that question?

She won’t rise if you’re there. Your baby sister won’t visit anyone she doesn’t like.

 

Not Your Fault

Posted: June 2, 2018 in Uncategorized

I’m cheating this week and posting another FF story. These 100-words have been rolling around in my head for three days and I had to write them down. Thanks to anyone who takes the time to read them.

For years I believed that
if you bothered
to dig deep enough
to look into my soul
and see me
me
for who I truly am
you would love me more

And, if you could decipher
the thoughts mixed into
the words I spoke
out of anger
or in defense
or defiance
you would love me more

But at last I realized
it wasn’t your fault
that our love was
withering like flowers
left too long in the sun

It was mine
for I sheltered my soul
and protected my thoughts
out of  fear
of being loved too much