writing

SoCS – Read, Read, Red.

The red phone rang nervously – or maybe it was Jeff who was nervous. He’d read somewhere that when the red phone rings, it meant disaster. Perhaps it was the reading of the seer, the fortune teller but he knew the red phone would ring.

Many nights he’d lain awake but now the day had come. He picked it up and said hello into the receiver.

“Jeff? It’s your mother. Why did you wait so long to pick up the phone?”

“Mother? Why are you calling me on the red phone?”

“Jeff… you were never born.”

____________________________________________________________________________________

This week’s prompt will be slightly more of a challenge, should you choose to accept. Your prompt is to include the word read (present tense), read (past tense) or red. The extra challenge? Publish without reading. Just do your best while you write, then make a really squinty face and pluck up the courage to hit that button. If you’re brave enough to do it, make sure you tell us you’re going to at the end of your post.

Find SoCS here, http://lindaghill.wordpress.com/2014/06/13/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-june-1414/ and write your own Stream of Consciousness Saturday post!

HRChallenge – Build a City

Dust motes drift aimlessly above empty streets. The air is all but still, and yet newspapers litter every corner, along the curbs, fallen alongside darkened skyscrapers from whence they clung during the sandstorm. The city, an oasis of light and diesel-fueled traffic by day, is still at two am. From the perspective of overhead planes, it appears to have been abandoned by aliens, discarded like shining refuse shit out of a UFO. One lonely two-lane blacktop leads in and out, the yellow lines painted upon it the only colour between the dunes.
By day the city bustles, businessmen march up and down, talking to unseen associates on their headsets like crazy bagmen in designer clothing. They leave their wives at home – few women work in the city. There are no schools for the children. The young are kept hidden by their mothers, lest the ones who placed them in this city – this arid sea-scape of dust – return.

Find the HRChallenge here: http://aopinionatedman.com/2014/06/02/harsh-reality-flash-fiction-challenge-part-1-of-2-create-a-city/

Today

sunleaves

Perfect days
pass far too quickly
with the sun glimmering
between leaves of green
not even the soft warm breeze
can blow away the hue
of emerald bliss.

But time
presses the hands of the clock
onward, ignoring the euphoria
of this human –
this speck upon the earth
who creates amidst
a perfect day’s inspiration.

My Addiction, Part End

I listen to the music
that you like all day.

I taste the food you enjoy
(I know because we go to the same restaurant)

I smell the shirt
I stole from your locker at the gym
(I sleep with it)

I feel between the sheets
how you must feel…
(between the sheets)

I see
I see

When you leave your house I watch
you get into your car
and you drive to work.
You laugh and you joke
with the people there
and you drive back home.

I see you walk away from me
when I try to approach you
why
can’t you love me too?

I am your
You are my
addiction.

My Addiction, Part Middle

Why
are you running away
when we were getting
along so well —

Why
do you not answer my calls?

Why
are you so aloof
when I want you
so much —

Why
are you looking at other girls?

Why
are you making my life
so miserable
…?

My Addiction

My addiction is not
to the drug that makes me high
or the wine, blood red
that flows through my veins

My addiction is
the space between your knees
your bow-legged walk
in your jeans.

My addiction is not
to the high that is the taste
of ice cream or chocolate
or mountains of candy

My addiction is
the anticipation of your face
your voice on the phone
your knock on my door.

My addiction is not
the taste of caffeine
or the air that I breathe
or the roof over my head

My addiction is
your back
as you walked away
from me.

Portrait of the Perpetually Lonely

Romance is in the air. It’s what my horoscope keeps tellin’ me. An’ I keep lookin’, keepin’ on searchin’ for that perfect other. The One.

I see him in ever’ face. Ever’ darn word I read here on these internets. But this one’s gone married, an’ that one’s too darn young. Some of ’em are even the gay. Damn shame that is.

I can only write poetry when I’m done drunk. Well not done done, but you know what I mean. Hafta have some of that wine in me. Not the high falutin’ stuff, jes’ the cheapo crap you get down there at the liquor store. The kind with the twist cap. Don’t take much to get my skinny ass plastered. I get a ragin’ headache goin’ on nex’ mornin’ though I tell ya.

So I was talkin’ to my pal Phil t’other day, an’ I tol’ him I was lookin’ for the The One. An’ he says, well damn, Nessie, I got one! So I cuff’d him right ’round the ear an’ I tol’ him where he could stick his one an’ it wa’n’t gonna be in me. Damn Phil. Hehe. Always gettin’ in a good joke.

Yep. The One. Always searchin’.

passion

my mood

in direct relation

to the colour on the page

you have the power

to make

me write in red

the shade of passion and blood

shed upon the sheets

of our bed

and on glad days

with blue on a yellow background

and pinks of blossoms

bursting

but at times you take

my reason and whitewash my mind

to stark black and nothingless

insanity

Genes

A man takes his fire from a woman’s breast and a woman takes hers from the life of her offspring.

But what of the coupling between man and woman

which makes the offspring come into being?

 

It is a drive so fierce, so powerful

that it can create

generations.

Entranced – Stream of Consciousness Saturday (Entrance)

You stepped through the door and it was like a bolt of lightning to my soul. Your eyes hypnotised me and your arms as they drew me in, felt protective and yet…

The knife in your hand as it stabbed me in the spine…

I died, still entranced by your eyes.

This post is part of SoCS: http://lindaghill.wordpress.com/2014/05/09/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-may-1014/