Archive for the ‘What Pegman Saw’ Category

Today Pegman took us to Palisade Rim/Ute Petroglyph Trail, Colorado in order to inspire a 150-word story. I’ve visited this area many times and am always fascinated by the petroglyphs, stories told by ancient hands or just a, “Hey! I was here.”

The People lived on this land for one-thousand years
before your people came,
offering greed and war
and turning our landscape into peaks of tattered garbage,
our lakes to pools of poison,
and our rivers into flowing yellow acid.

We hunted bear, fox, antelope, bison,
took only what was needed
and gave back ten-fold,
leaving the land unaltered
while moving place to place.
We thanked Mother Earth for her bounty.
Offered prayers and gratitude when she provided peace.

You? You brought disease, war, and tears beyond all imagining.
Soldiers killed our women and babies; butchered our men.
And when that failed to annihilate us
your men slaughtered our bison,
leaving piles of bones strewn across the grasslands.

Now you are welcome to this earth
for you have ruined the surface
and what lies beneath.
We will bide our time
until your God comes to ask,
“What have you done?”


Never Ending Love

Posted: February 10, 2018 in What Pegman Saw
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Today Pegman took us to Terni, Italy. While scrolling around this fascinating place I found a painting of Marmore Falls. Suddenly (especially since Valentine’s Day is right around the corner) love was in the air. Thanks, Pegman!!!

Oh, how I love you
and you love me

For I have given you laughter
and nights of such glory
we were compelled to sing and shout
under blankets of stars
And in the end
I gave you children
so beautiful even the Gods are jealous

In return
you convinced me
that I do possess courage
and you taught me
how to acquire power
beyond all imagining
Even as you made me
that neither should be abused

We have shown one another

And tolerated
and fear

If we only survive ten more years
or are lucky enough to live
one hundred years
or one thousand years longer
we shall flow through time
with our heads held high
and our fingers entwined

For I know
beyond a shadow of a doubt
the strength of us will always remain

(Located in the Parco Fluviale del Nera, the Marmore Falls is one of the finest outdoor attractions in the region surrounding Terni. This waterfall may look natural, but is actually man-made and stands as the tallest man-made fall in the world.)

I have missed What Pegman Saw, so am dipping my toe into the 150-word waters of a story about North Coast, Finland. Thanks, Pegman!!!

We inhabit a land of seagrass and women who wear armor.
Our children are strong. Our men brave.
Together we have lived upon these shores for one thousand years
and will defend it to the death.

At night the polar skies glow with fox-fire.
The days glisten with sunshine and laughter.
Our fields produce crops you have never heard of,
and we will never share.
The forests surrounding our homes
are alive with bear and lynx.
They do not frighten us,
for they are here to serve.

So, even though you have three times our number of sailing ships,
filled with twice as many soldiers armed with weapons of hammered steel,
do not think, for one moment,
you have the slightest chance of conquering our people.

For we will rise up in a fury so strong
the hearts of your bravest men will tremble.
Send your army.
We are here.

Sure! We were invited to Uncle Abóòd’s parties! Remember? The youngest sat at the table farthest from the wall, so waiters knew we weren’t allowed any arak. Still, we boys sipped the last drops from abandoned glasses while Uncles Yaman, Rifal, and Tarek shimmied to the beat of tabans and swayed to the gently plucked strings of a rebab.

Jeez, don’t you remember that although the air swam with the aroma of freekeh chicken, tabbouleh, and manoushi bread, those of us that weren’t too drunk could smell the jasmine in Aseel’s hair?

No! You’re not actually asking, “Who was Aseel?” Really? Come on. Aseel broke every man’s heart. Every boy’s heart! Remember? We vied for her hugs, prayed for her kisses, longed for her stories.

Ah, now you recall. Yes, Aseel’s stories centered around women’s freedom and o.k., erotic sex. I’ll give you that.

What? Seen her? No. She disappeared long ago.

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Today Pegman took us to North Pole, Alaska where they have what looks like a wonderful ice carving festival. It was there I found my “glass” house. As always, thank you for reading my work. Happy Holidays!

If you look closely you will see our Betsy standing beside the sink, wearing his favorite pink chiffon dress, blonde hair done just right – just the way he likes it.
He is coming up the front steps, his briefcase filled with office papers. You will notice the leather is polished to a high shine, as are his shoes and short black hair.
The children are upstairs, coloring. Do you hear a word from them? You’d better not. For he likes to see five-year-old Annie in frilly dresses and three-year-old Tommy in stiff, dark suits, sitting quietly. Very, very quietly.
When our Betsy hears his key in the lock, she fills his tumbler with two well-measured jiggers of Scotch whiskey and pours it over ice. But tonight’s drink will be special, it’s their anniversary, after all. She empties a small bottle of aconitine into his glass and stirs.

Today Pegman took us to Versailles. What a beautifully opulent choice.

Twelve-year-old Giselle sits on the floor, skirts tucked neatly between her knees, silently thinking, dreaming, really.

Tonight this hall will be filled with flirtation and wine. Men and women alike will display themselves in dresses or jackets and pants tailored in pink, gold or baby-blue silk. Their faces and wigs powdered, eyebrows darkened with charcoal and cheeks stained cinnabar-red they will slip handkerchiefs from lacey sleeves while keeping feathered fans ready to cover smiling lips as their wide-open eyes beg for more. More wine, more food, more trysts upstairs or down, no one cares. All they desire is more, more and more.

Who pays for it all? Why the king himself. For he relishes everything and always expects more.
But who really pays?  People like our Giselle conceived on such a night. She rises, picks up her mop, looks down the long hall and begins her never-ending task.

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Legend? or Not.

Posted: November 26, 2017 in What Pegman Saw
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Today Pegman took us to the Isle of Wight where mermaids occasionally appear on offshore rocks.

Me mum says selkies ain’t real.
The lads say they’ve seen ’em by the dozens
just offshore among the breakers along the English Channel.

What’s a man to believe?

Out on the sea, day in and day out,
riding the pounding waves or
slipping over water flat as glass
one hears things that could be the call of gulls
or might be the songs of women.

And who’s to tell what one hears
is either right or wrong?

Perhaps it depends on what you need
or what you want or what you’ve been a missing
at any certain time.

Alls I know is that I believes
in women who sing the siren song
because I’ve heard their voices,
seen their rainbow-colored tailfins appear
and disappear, depending on the light

If I could, I’d follow them
right down to the bottom of the sea
where there ain’t nothin but silence