I broke into Marcia’s Blog again…

The Write Stuff

Currents of life have kept me away from Marcia’s resplendent lagoon lately, but I have drifted back today. I had resolved in the beginning of the year to get out a bit more than I am used to, so here I am and it is here that I will share some of my outings.

I was recently featured at Pure Haiku, one of my haiku being chosen to represent Freya’s theme of Ocean. That new association got me an invitation to participate in Freya’s Escape Pod Emulation. While I am not much for science fiction, the idea of being left alone in an escape pod was kind of appealing. (You’ll have to read her post in April to see what five items I take with me.) But in thinking about that escape pod I was led back to this post.

Don’t we all dream of alone time to…

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So MindloveMisery’s Menagerie’s Saturday “#Lucky Dip”  prompt is to respond to the poem “Fable”, by Janos Pilinszky. I did, as I was intrigued by this poem.  


Fable by Janos Pilinszky

Once upon a time

there was a lonely wolf

lonelier than the angels.

He happened to come to a village.

He fell in love with the first house he saw.

Already he loved its walls

the caresses of its brick layers.

But the window stopped him.

In the room sat people.

Apart from God nobody ever

found them so beauitful

as this child-like beast

So at night he went into the house.

He stopped in the middle of the room

and never moved from there anymore.

He stood all through the night, with wide eyes

and on into the morning when he was beaten to death.


Apart from God,   D. Avery

 Upon that time once

I was a lonely wolf

and so I came to your village

not to fill an empty heart

my heart was full.

Your house was full

and filled my full heart

not with longing

not with envy for

what you had I did not want

except to see what God had seen

in you.

I went to you wide-eyed and innocent

expecting only to see what God had seen

in you with my full heart

which I would have given you.

I sat in your dark

within the walls you’d built

I didn’t realize you were hiding

behind your layers of brick afraid

of what God might see in you.

You beat me until my full heart stopped beating

and I left without it

you threw epithets and derisions before

locking yourself inside where doubt will always haunt you.


Threads of Feelings

At dVerse, for Tuesday’s Poetics prompt, Sarah Connor suggested that we write about a love token.  “Maybe you want to think about a token you would leave, or have been left. Maybe there’s something you carry around to remind you of someone you love.”  The larger background that she provided as inspiration was the story of the London Foundling Hospital and the tradition of mothers leaving a token as proof of identity in case they were able to return for their child.

What if what we left behind was a place


Threads of Feelings

concentric threads weave

topographic memories

mapped in mind and heart

mountains valleys streams winding

finding bearings that lead home



I haven’t written a Six Sentence Story for a while. I wanted to this week as the host, Zoe, at Unchartered, Recording Life Under the Radar, has given her final prompt word, crane. A regular contributor, Girlie On the Edge, will be taking over the prompting, but I want to thank Zoe for the time she has put in. Her prompts have gotten a couple of serial stories out of me and a couple of recurring characters. To send Zoe off, perhaps in poor taste, here once again are Earnest Biggs and Marge Small.
six sentence story



Outside the department store fitting-room, balanced like a crane, left pant leg dragging dangerously near her one right foot, Ilene Higginbottom was hopping mad, squawking loudly that she’d lost her leg.

“Oh, yes”, said Earnest, trying to help, “I heard, the accident at the mill…”

“No, I’ve lost my prosthetic leg, it’s disappeared while I was trying on pants; I set it down and now I can’t find it.”

Just then an apologetic sales clerk appeared and presented the leg to Ilene Higginbottom, explaining that she had taken it from the fitting room thinking it was meant for a sock display.

“You’re telling me you met Ilene Higginbottom, the woman who is suing the mill where she worked for the loss of her leg?” Marge asked when Earnest shared the story with her that evening. “I’ve been following that case; you know, she may not have a leg to stand on if it goes to court.”


Click here for complete story so far including the next installment, Spring & Everything, a  response to the Carrot Ranch March 8 prompt, balloon.


Sighing, Miranda looked through her closet, as if something new might have appeared. She finally took down the tired slacks, blouse and sweater that she usually wore on Wednesdays. It would serve, though it’d serve better if she hadn’t packed so many pounds around her middle.

So much besides her weight had changed since she began teaching; changes that were demoralizing and depressing.

Sighing again she adjusted the accessory that now completed her outfit. Her Raven brand concealment holster used to tuck more easily into her waistband. Now the gun she carried, like her dispiritedness, was harder to conceal.


Another story came to mind for the Carrot Ranch March 1, 2018, prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less) write a story that includes a raven. It can be in nature or used to describe humanity as a metaphor. Follow the bird. Go where the prompt leads. 




Cronk! Raven’s call. “Diet is varied and opportunistic”. Cronk!, announcing carrion. Big black bird of varied reputations, mythical, dark. Cronk! Associated with death.

Why? Raven, not hawk nor dove, just a witness, an opportunistic feeder. Raven hears the gunshots, raven flies in, watches, waits.

                                    With each bullet fired

                                    Obliterated childhood

                                    His own soul fading

                                    To himself brings brutal death

                                    Innocence is carrion.

Cronk! Raven calls in her family, teaches them to thrive. They, opportunistic feeders, learn to listen for the gunshots. Carrion eaters do not wonder at the source, do not wonder why there are so many fallen children.


Carrot Ranch March 1, 2018, prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less) write a story that includes a raven. It can be in nature or used to describe humanity as a metaphor. Follow the bird. Go where the prompt leads. Respond by March 6, 2018, to be included in the compilation (published March 7). Rules are here. All writers are welcome!


Tide’s Up

This just in from PureHaiku, where the Ocean theme flows on. Check out Freya’s site.


tides keeping moon time 

unmoored dreams floating freely

magic cast on waves