This post is in response to ermilia.
by Jonathan Taylor Sweet
Tell me again about the past
The one where everything was green or blue
Why now just us
In this winter cave
I only see the future and in this dream there is but one of us
Haibun Thinking, interpretations of the Japanese Haibun, a literary form which explores the relationship between the human experience and nature.
The Prompt I chose:
ART © Anja Partin – Oh Pithy Me
I once heard you sing. It still is a musical memory I can’t forget.
I was backstage when you came on. They tell me the wait is what made you nervous.
On stage your voice became hoarse and wheezy and you found it hard to dance.
You had been amazing at Monterrey and even though this night you were not at your best , you were still better than the rest.
I think it had a lot to do with Southern Comfort. After all, you danced a masochistic tango with the bottle.
A tumultuous love and a fatal dalliance with drugs all because of your feelings of rejection by your friends.
her voice inspires me
never to be heard again
a mercedes benz
This post was written for the Friday Fictioneers based on the prompt below.
Copyright -Claire Fuller
“Your father is in there Tony. They are on strike against the company. The local diner across the street is providing their meals free of charge. And they have elected their own mayor and police to maintain order. Any person who breaks the rules will be given a trial and punishments ranging from washing dishes to being expelled from the plant. Just like a little city. Look, see the man with the busy eyebrows? He’s the company’s leader. He’s meeting with your father now.”
up against the man
down for right now but not out
brighter tomorrow
Word count 99
The prompt I chose:
Gathering her brows like gathering storm, Nursing her wrath to keep it warm
Robert Burns
Photo Credit: Google
She had witnessed the way some of the old town gentlemen celebrated their nights. Not a woman in sight except for those that prepared the feast on which these pigs stuffed themselves. Relegated to the role of waitress was not her style. Beckoning at their every call sent her brows up like two woolly worms getting ready to fight. And on top of that she had to clean up their filthy mess. She thought her future would consist of a lovely husband some rug rats to keep things interesting. Every night she dreamed of them in their graves.
jealously she had
an old girl should have some fun
not in this boy’s club
But she dreamed, and with the other ladies left at home, made a plan. Nothing drastic. Nobody would get hurt. The beer will still flow and the fiddle play. Roles would just be reversed. These decrepit drunks would soon be asleep.
when these old men wake
this village of Alloway
belongs to the girls
This is my first post for the first Haibun Thinking – a new Haibun Writing Challenge. The prompt I chose was:
“Life moves pretty fast. If you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.”
– Ferris Bueller’s Day Off
****
His rise through the ladders of work left him breathless.
Time out for marriage that was for sure.
There were kids his wife assured.
No one mentioned this unfairness.
***
One more time he had to check this corporate allure.
Corporate Gods before all.
Up, up towards that impossible goal for sure.
With all this some say he had a lot of gall.
***
Once there, everything had been left behind.
But no one was there to see him now.
He thought he was a gift to mankind.
But in the end he wasn’t even the cats meow.
a rose for my love
i wish i could play again
one more chance to smell
