All I Want for Christmas is Some Apple Stock


Sis, this post is for you! Sing this to the tune of “All I want for Christmas”   All I want for Christmas    Is some Apple stock My sister really    Likes to talk.   Gee, if I had … Continue reading

Pain-somnia


Pain is my passionate lover tonight, and it laughs at my Medication suitors, who try to lure me away with their promises of comfort and rest. I am captivated by Pain’s domineering presence yet I struggle against its powerful control.

Somehow, I manage to tear myself away from its tethers, to find some solace on the page. To Words I come, bruised and broken. Desperate for distraction. Anxiously awaiting the temporary freedom that comes with being swept away by their magic.

Of course, medical marijuana would be a lot easier, but it’s not legal here yet, and this blog is all about word play, so here I am.

Who’s up for a bedtime story?

Once upon a time there was a mirror. This glass was far from clear.

Children had placed, and replaced stickers on it so much that some of the stickers were no longer recognizable as anything other than dirty adhesive.

There was a lingering smudge from the time the woman drew a heart with “I love you” for her husband after that steamy shower, and where he had quickly replied “more”.

There were even smudges from the dogs nose when he discovered and introduced himself to his reflection.

Of course, the typical toothpaste splatters, occasional hair, and everyday dust and dirt marred its surface as well.

This is not part of the story, but I’m seriously thinking about ditching this and getting some ice-cream. Ice-cream and another pain pill…

What? You think I should finish my story? It’s a story about a mirror. i could spend some time thinking, writing, “reflecting” on the many insights to be discovered, but don’t you think we all spend enough time in mirrors? Get some windex, wipe it down and live your life.

Now, back to that ice-cream…

Father Time


Father Time – Trifecta

Lines of turmoil etch his face
His hands are bound by pain.
Regret of trying to win the race
It’s too late to start again.

His job had caused his knee to bow
There’d been no time to play
His children were successful now
They work 12 hours a day.

All alone, he wastes his tears
The years have felt so long
Spirit fading, he thinks he hears
Whispers of that idle song:

Ring around the rosies, pocket full of posies,
Ashes, ashes, we all fall down.”

The Road to Hell


Trifecta‘s challenge word “intention”.

The Road to Hell*

‘She looks like she didn’t even take a shower this morning. I would never let mine get away with that. Doesn’t she realize they are in a public place?’

Every judgmental thought and noble intention vanished as her three-year-old threw herself on the floor and screamed those same words she heard so long ago, “but I want it!”

*See comments

Trifextra: Crust, mantle, core


Image courtesy of Danilo Rizzuti / FreeDigitalPhotos.net

Trifextra – Give us 33 words from it.  Interpret the prompt however you wish–literal, metaphorical, or somewhere in between.

 

“He’s a hard worker. Doesn’t bother the others. He likes the night shift.”

“Oh, he’s a good boy. Always interested in how things work.”

They won’t know what hit them. Five, four, three…

Trifecta: The Final Act


Haven’t entered one of these for a while. Trifecta‘s prompt word is “Survive”.

The  Final Act

How can something hurt so much?

The life that’s left is hard to touch.

The pain so deeply pushed inside

She knows this time, she won’t survive.

Lines of agony, tears of rage

Scratches of hopelessness fill the page.

The heart once beating longs to be still.

An empty life, nothing can fill.

The knife draws slowly across her wrist.

Blood, the proof she still exists.

In shallow breaths, she wonders why

Life was only found, when she chose to die.

She isn’t sad, she doesn’t regret.

She’s broken beyond what she can forget.

As the cold swept in, she closed her eyes

Spirit long gone, her body dies.

 

– Hobbler