TIPTOE NIMBLY

Occasionally, I attempt to do Words for Wednesday which started quite awhile ago and has been kept alive by many people. Each week new words are given to be used in whatever creative style speaks to you. I usually choose poetry [poorly written poetry], while others write short stories. When I do participate, I'm usually a day or two late. Sorry! So if this is something you'd like to try, check it out on Mumblings [the person who started Words for Wednesday] or on Drifting through life to get the weekly words. 

This weeks words are:
perfume, blanket, blue, market, voltage, feline
and/or
exotic, throttle, oven, comprehend, toss and trespass

Tiptoe nimbly past her exotic market of many delights
Ignore the NO TRESPASS sign and the flashing neon lights
A sleeping feline in a soft, silky blue blanket smiles
Knowing they smell the sweet, seductive perfume vials
Comprehend and toss humanity in that self-righteous oven

Voltage on! Throttle Up! Feel the heat of forbidden loving.
Tiptoe nimbly down the path, tiptoe nimbly beyond the signs
Tiptoe nimbly, always nimbly to where a smiling feline dines.

A RESILIENT HEART

I'm sure a therapist would have a ball analyzing my poetry.  Some say the eyes are the mirrors to a person's soul, but since you can't see my eyes, I offer up my written words as testament to who I am and what I have lurking in the darkest recesses of my being.  I seem to always be very closely connected to what the heart feels and how truly resilient it is.  A person's healing capacity always amazes me...especially my own.

This week's Words for Wednesday again brought me mental images of love and struggle, but also of somehow being a better more open person because of that pain and struggle.  The words this week in which I wove a poem were: 

Utopian

plagiarism
necktie
automatic
spinster
devout

OR

navigation
tribulation
propagation
explanation
sensation
adulation


A Resilient Heart 

She had many days of Utopian love

Where her heart’s plagiarism was written proudly
With many empty, unanswered "I love you’s"
A stabbing sensation to be broadcasted loudly.

Love at first sight was the automatic explanation

For adulation on love’s battle field so gory
She was a decorated warrior, a lonely spinster
Upon whose chest she wore tribulation with such glory.

Although navigation along the sensual garden path

Without propagation she was barren and deemed quite empty
But rich without love’s flowery neckties and glittery things
This devout spinster’s heart was resilient, pure and free.

SEASONAL DUES

This week's Words For Wednesday are: boreal, rocky, tempest, lake, rising, breathe or  the phrase, "the summer rain washed her face with bitter tears".


A crisp, tempest wind rustles through the color splattered trees
And on each lake a lonesome loon awaits a warmer summer breeze
The salty, boreal air tiptoes across the once warm, sunlit rocky shores
While the equinox signals summer’s end and opens autumn’s doors. 

Reds and yellows replace the once lush foliage greens
And once again we start our plans for a season that redeems
With each rising sun cooler days have silently begun to emerge
Now the summer’s passing and a frigid transformation will converge.

The seasons come and they will go, each has beauty of its own
The artist who creates it all is more than just well known.
But autumn captures nature’s best with painted landscape hues
Like growing trees that bend and breathe we, too pay our seasonal dues.



Painted by yours truly!

WAS IT JUST A DREAM?

This week's Words For Wednesday beckoned me to write a story about a place where the line is a very fine one between what's real and what lags into the realm of mental illness. It's a shame in this day and age that mental illness still carries with it such a social stigma and that so many people feel the need to hide being "different" from everyone especially those closest to them for fear of being chemically restrained. 

This week's prompts are: fragmented, gravel, blistering, mundane, clairvoyant, grasshopper or the phrase, "incidentally yours". From those prompts I wrote the beginning of a fantasy filled story: Each night I awoke at precisely the same time. It had been happening for months and tonight was no exception. As I quickly opened my eyes wanting to catch what seemed just out of reach, I looked at the ornately carved antique clock on my nightstand. It told me what I already knew. Like each night before, it was precisely 3:15 am. 3:15? Did that mean something? Could it mean 3/15, the Ides of March? Could it be that simple? Would something happen on March 15th?

My attention drifted from the clock back to the fragmented dream from which I awoke each night. Once again I saw a small girl digging in the gravel that had been used as a pathway throughout a beautifully landscaped English flower garden. Above her the birds were happily chattering away in the giant oak trees that outlined the space used for the garden. The girl kept busily digging and sifting through the gravel as if she was looking for one special stone. She stopped digging when a colorful dragonfly landed on the wicker basket she was filling with carefully selected pebbles.

She curiously gazed at the motionless dragonfly and reached out to touch it to see if it was real. When it spoke, it startled her and she dropped her hand tool. It told her to listen to the grasshopper because he was the wisest of all the garden creatures. She smiled and thanked the dragonfly as he flew away. What she had to do finally became crystal clear.

What her grandmother told her was true. She was different! She not only heard voices, but she saw things as well. Her grandmother had called her a clairvoyant and although she didn’t know what that word meant, she knew it distinguished her from everyone else. Her grandmother was certain she was marked for greatness and would help many people throughout her life. Her grandmother claimed the gift the little girl possessed would lift her above the mundane and the ordinary. It would allow her to not only hear the grasshopper, but to understand his message as well.

Before she could hunt for the elusive grasshopper, her mother came rushing out into the garden hollering at her for not wearing her hat. It was hot and she always removed her hat because she like how the sun felt on her face. But her mother was sure the sun would have a blistering effect on her fair skin without it. She scooped her up and scolded her all the way back into the house. The girl had reached out for her basket, but her mother kicked it aside scattering all the carefully selected pebbles back to where they had originally laid. Her important project would have to wait until tomorrow and hopefully the grasshopper would come find her to give her the message she was supposed to hear.

As they quickly walked past the large mirror in the front hallway on the way to get cleaned up from playing outside, the little girl was startled by what she saw. The reflection in the mirror was of a face she knew very well. It was that refection that had jarred me awake at precisely 3:15 each night. The face of the little girl was my face. I was the clairvoyant and yes, I was awaiting a message from the grasshopper. His was a voice I needed to hear even though my mother didn’t believe in such malarkey and poppycock. She said hearing voices was a sign of mental illness and had threatened to have the family doctor put me on some medication that would make the voices stop.

THOROUGHLY MODERN MILDRED

This week's Words For Wednesday are: calamitous, fraction, spanx, glittering, ambitious, indispensable or 'a glitch in time saved mine'.

I usually write a poem using the words from Words For Wednesday, but this week I decided to write a short story using them instead.  When I saw that one of the words was "Spanx," it immediately brought an incident to mind that happened about six years ago.

My daughter and I used an upcoming wedding as an excuse to go on a mini shopping spree. I decided to let vanity guide me all the way on our rather ambitious endeavor. Usually shopping holds no appeal for me, but on this occasion I unleashed all my almost nonexistent girly-girl tendencies. After trying on many dresses, I selected the hot pink pleated one. I liked the way it looked on me because it disguised all the usual flaws that happen as a woman gets older, but accented all my remaining physical virtues. Plus I was up for exploring new territory. Short and sassy was the way to go for this old bird, but something was missing! Oprah always claimed that each woman’s wardrobe needed one indispensable item. She emphatically stated, “ALL women need Spanx!” Who was I to dispute Oprah’s claim? So I decided to give Spanx a whirl.

Trying on Spanx was funniest thing I had experienced in ages. I tugged and pulled and finally after much laughter and a few bad words I had it on. Wow! As promised it flattened what needed to be flattened, smoothed everything else out and had the extra bonus of pushing up my breasts and making them look young and vivacious. I was amused at how easily it came off after the difficulty I had putting it on. I felt like a banana as I literally peeled the Spanx off. Next up on the list of things to do was to purchase shoes and accessories. I normally don’t wear heels because I’m tall, but I decided to go all the way this time and forego flats by purchasing the pair of glittering silver heels that made my legs look so good that even a super model would envy them. Yes, I broke the bank, but I was ready to dazzle all my old friends and shake my tail feathers on the dance floor.

After the ceremony, most everyone took a short walk to where the reception was held. Only a small fraction of the guests drove their cars two blocks to Seville Square. Upon arriving at the reception, I slipped my shoes off and opted to commit a usual Karen cardinal sin by going barefoot. I did, however, put my shoes back on when a group of us visited the restroom a little while later. I thought, “Here we go again” as I struggled with unhooking the hooks of the Spanx so the lady in pink could go tinkle. I carefully rehooked the hooks and sashayed my way back into the reception. By that time, toasts were being made so a lot of standing up and sitting back down was going on. About the third time I had to stand and raise my glass, I felt a tap on my shoulder. A young man leaned in close to me and quickly whispered, “Ma’am, you need to fix the back of your dress.”

As I nonchalantly ran my hand down the back of my dress trying to find what the young gentleman was talking about, I discovered that my Spanx had gotten caught on the back of my dress causing the whole right side of my derriere to be exposed. OMG! Thank goodness my backside remained covered by my Spanx, but I could only imagine how many pictures of me standing there clueless had been taken and posted to Facebook for all to see. Kodak moments like that don’t happen often. I chuckled and acknowledged to myself that this was just another in many uniquely “Mildred” moments. I know I had the look of a defeated beauty queen as my calamitous fashion faux pas was revealed and finally resolved. Once again I pulled and tugged at those damn Spanx and finally without too much damage, my dress came loose. And as my friends and family all chimed in and reveled in utter joy, each one thanked me for making the occasion a truly unforgettable one. Yes, Mildred may clean up well, but somehow the true Mildred always comes out no matter how hard I try to stifle her.

LOVE'S CURSE

I'm back from North Carolina and ready to roll with this week's Words For Wednesday.  This week's prompts are:

insinuate

method

reverse

pleasantries

donkey

darker

OR

the phrase, 'darkening shadows, deadly intentions' can be used.

 

 

Call me a donkey!

No, call me an ass!
Call me quite clueless
I’m a hard-headed lass.

You’ve smiled falsely
It’s love in reverse
Your method is madness
Your love is a curse.

As time has grown darker
My love has grown thin
Insinuate that the future
Will never begin.

Our pleasantries fall victim

Like leaves on a tree
In winter it’s barren
Lifeless and free.

The darkening shadows

Fall heavy below
Deadly intentions
Is something we know.

Love has departed

We lie crippled alone
We lie in life’s harvest
It’s what we call home.

ODE TO SEETHING SAINTS AND SINGING SINNERS

Delores from Under The Porch Light  threw everyone for a loop with Words For Wednesday this week.  Instead of the usual format which includes using a list of words or a phrase or both if you're a glutton for punishment, she omitted the list of words and gave the participants three phrases to get their creative juices flowing.  After participating  for several weeks, I finally get it.  It really isn't about what a person posts or the amount of talent they exude.  It's all about the camaraderie.  Those of you who follow Mildred and read excerpts from her rather twisted life, know that flowery poetry isn't really Mildred's thing.  Well folks!  Guess what?  Mildred likes flowery poetry, just like she likes painting.  She may not be Robert Frost or van Gogh, but I think creativity isn't so much about the finished product as it is about the journey/process.  It's more about letting out what's buried deep inside.  If that surfaces in a cute poem or a landscape then I say, "let it flow...let those juices seep out and carry you to where you're supposed to go!"

If you'd like to participate, hop over to her Delores' blog and check it out!  You just might surprise yourself as much as I've surprised myself.  Plus the group is a comprised of people from all walks of life.  They are so creatively diverse and supportive of what everyone posts.  What a wonderful gift Delores created by bringing together people to share their worlds via written words.  Thank you  so much, Delores!

The prompt I used this week was the phrase, "giggles and fairy wings".  

Not only did I use this phrase in the poem I composed, but if you notice the first letter of the first word in each line also spells g-i-g-g-l-e-s-a-n-d-f-a-i-r-y-w-i-n-g-s.

Giggles and fairy wings
imagination sweetly sings
giggles and fairy wings
golden clouds and jeweled rings.

Lovestruck moments, lovestruck eyes
End with passion, end with strive
singing love songs so contrive
a kingdom withers, a kingdom thrives.

No iron maiden from above
dancing cherubs bring us love
floating lightly hand in glove
angels soaring like a dove.

Inscription reading, wordless gain
ride the lightning like a train
young at heart will remain
with each other no disdain.

Instant karma, instant winner
No food for love or for dinner
Gain in love or grow much thinner
Seething saints and singing sinners. 

WHAT IS LIFE?

Delores from Under The Porch Light created Words For Wednesday.  If you'd like to participate, hop over to her blog and check it out!

This week's prompt were:

essence, flippant, mercury, speeding, nonchalant, shadowed
or
"life smells like coffee and baby poop, fresh cut grass and gasoline"

 

What is life?

Life looks like noodles and cesspools, wild flowers and trampolines.
Life sounds like landslides and toilets, baby coos and tambourines.
Life smells like coffee and baby poop, fresh cut grass and gasoline.
Life tastes like water and bourbon, vegetables and jelly beans.
Life feels like laughter and crying, zip lining and quarantine.
But actually life is just another unforeseen guillotine!
Evergreen, never seen
Fresh cut grass and gasoline…

THE KNIFE OF FLU'S REGRET

This week's Words For Wednesday are: incarcerate, phlegm, damp, groan, knife and blessing.
 

A flummoxed state of being

A blessing in disguise

A fevered mind thinks of freeing

A vision from its tear stained eyes.

In a darkened room

Loudly from within

I groan from gloom, I moan with doom

The questions now begin.

To be or not to be

Incarcerate or flee

To be or not to be

Influenza vexes me.

Phlegm soaked tissues; swollen glands

A body damp with fevered sweat

Needs the tender care of loving hands

To pacify the knife of flu’s regret.

by Mildred Ratched 

PENICILLIN FOR YOUR SOUL

Taken from Under The Porch Light's Words For Wednesday:
 

Words for Wednesday’  is a once a week writing prompt that has carried over from ‘thefeatherednest’.  The prompt could be a selection of words,  a photo,  an idea or a couple of sentences you can use to start a piece of flash fiction.  Write a poem or a story using as much or as little of the prompt as you please or offer us something entirely different as a prompt.  There are no deadlines, no rules...just a bit of good clean fun.  Put your creation in comments here or let us know if you are posting on your own blog.   Please let me know if you want to be listed in the sidebar as a participant.

 

Today’s prompt is:

actual

spontaneous

remedy

fanciful

mesmerized

cranium

 

OR

 

listen

glisten

christen

moisten

hasten

penicillin

 

I chose "listen, glisten, christen, moisten, hasten and penicillin" and wrote the following short poem using those words:

 

Can you hear your inner song?

It beckons you to sing along

Painted with love’s brightest ray

A glisten-streaked joyful day

 

A song to christen your doubtful heart

With eternal hope and fearless starts

Moisten the most barren land

With seeds to sow and gentle hand

 

Hasten now my wounded child

That inner song will make you smile

It may sound like rock and roll

Penicillin for your soul.

 

I love reading the various responses posted on Under The Porch Light.  The creativity that flows forth is simply amazing!  Thank you, Delores for allowing me to participate!