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Flash Fiction Day
Flash Fiction Prompt
Each day a lovely little website referred to as Flashy Fiction offers a writing prompt to a photo. Today’s prompt was a two-fer because it’s been combined with Friday’s prompt.
I had to do one for today. The opportunity was too good and the prompt too right-up-my-alley. So, this is what I wrote for the photo above. I hope you enjoy it. And please, stop by to see all the offerings on Flashy Fiction. You’ll be glad you did.
The Light of Meaning
Within me grows a tension I cannot place. What could cause this sensation of impending destiny, which perches like a vulture just out of visual range? Does my breath come short and quick because of unexpected claustrophobia at the looks of this canyon before me?
My friends don’t seem to notice how silence surrounds this place, how the scent of dust carries with it a hint of the ancient. Their shouts fall short of my space, leaving me in a personal bell jar inside these striped red walls.
Illusions of undulating Dune’s Shai-Hulud flash across my mind. I wonder if this was how Paul felt the first time he waited for that beast to rise from the desert floor. Would there be such a ritual for me to perform for the coming secret to reveal itself? And how do I know there is a secret?
Footsteps echo. Shock sweeps through me. I recognize them as my own, though I don’t recall moving into the inner recesses of a side chamber. Dim illumination draws me forward, faster as hesitation drops away. I must know this thing that would be.
Twists and turns, dried water channels of exquisite sandstone, bring me, at last, to the chamber. I burst forth from the passage, panting in excitement and terror. Finally, I see what has haunted my vague dreams for longer than memory reaches. It waits; one glorious beam of pure light.
Within that circle of illumination is the future I’ve tried to escape from and now run to in a sprint of desperation. Could my heart beat any harder and remain caged within my body? Could my responding body contain so much light?
A jerk, like that of a tether drawn forward suddenly, pulls me into the beam of sunlight that squeezes through a tiny overhead opening. My head arches back. My chest swells and rises, as if I’m a mere marionette and someone has yanked my string upward. My mind is filled with music, sweet and gentle, as it ebbs and surges through the channels of my soul.
Home comes calling. I have been away longer than I can imagine right now. My mind registers the knowledge of a previous, though, different life elsewhere; a knowledge that explains so much that has confused me during this life.
The music and light fill me with the purpose I’ve been seeking. All is clear now. I have come this far to learn that only one act of mine is necessary for my life to have meaning for this world; to learn that with that act, I have completed my purpose here and can go home again.
Is there any better bliss than such sure knowledge?
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Previous Post
I escaped to my poet’s playground this morning and got to compose in the sandbox with my paints.
Here’s hoping you enjoy this playtime effort. I’ll have more poetry tomorrow, and more postings during the week.
Have a great weekend, everyone, and come back for the holiday week refreshed and energized.
A bientot,
Claudsy
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PAD Finish Line Reached
poem (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
I reached the finish line today of this year’s annual Poem-A-Day Challenge, hosted by Robert Lee Brewer of Writer’s Digest’s Poetic Asides.
Three days spent out in the wilds of the north country near the Canadian border has advantages. The wilds had a cook shack with great food, live entertainment, plenty of friendly folk to keep a body moving and interacting, learning and taking away new experiences and perspectives. It also had nighttime freezing temps, daily sunshine, sprinkles when relaxation was needed, and a small-town parade with all the usual trimmings.
While out there on the high plateau, I kept thinking about poetry and what I’d take away from the Rendezvous that I could use later for either verse or prose. I’d met unique people with otherwise long-lost talents, children who could defend themselves without anger or cook over an open fire without complaint. I’d seen crafts that rivaled any in a museum anywhere. And best of all, I came home knowing that I will go back next year for a repeat.
The PAD challenge continued without me, but I’ve managed to put together something for each of the days missed. I hope you enjoy these small offerings and that you’ll continue to return to this blog after this challenge ends. I have a new, improved blog for the end of the week, with new pages to visit and things to see. Until then, daily posts will continue.
Now, on to poetry.
Day 27 Prompt: “The Trouble is (blank)” Fill in blank, make it the title, and write poem.
The Trouble is Time Bending
Arbitrary limits,
On something non-existent,
Takes no talent, no finess.
Limiting nothing takes
More than care,
Requiring belief
That increments from
One mind equal
Production possibilities.
How can seconds become
Minutes or hours, when
Only days/nights exist in time?
Does breathing count
As a measuring stick, or pulse,
When clocks don’t function?
© Claudette J. Young 2012
Day 28 Prompt: Write a problem poem.
What Price Time
Forcing life into minutes and hours,
Taking life from the living,
Becoming machines, wound up
For the pleasure of someone else.
Can we not function except to
Sweep hands and crystal faces?
Are we mindless with this labyrinth,
Marking existence with clicks and clangs?
© Claudette J. Young 2012
Day 29 Prompt: Take a favorite line from an earlier poem this month, and rework it into a new poem.
Prayers Danced in Circles
Call forth with drum and song
Answers from Creator’s hand.
Step lively in obedience,
Sing with heart’s voice to
Weave supplication upward
Toward Creator’s ear.
Circles with unending,
Beginning, revolving in circuit,
To define all life as one,
Connected and connecting.
Such is Earth, Water, Fire, and Air—
Each touching each, depending,
Giving, moving forward as willed,
Calling singers, dancers to moving circles,
Calling forth prayers to the heavens.
© Claudette J. Young 2012
Day 30 Prompt: Write a take-away poem. Open interpretation.
Too Long, Too Short
Thirty days hath April,
Poems coming still,
A challenge for all.
Nothing too small
To contribute in word
Thoughts, noun or verb.
Is thirty days too long, too short,
For birthing poems for sport?
Should we make this habit,
A daily ritual, or run as rabbit?
© Claudette J. Young 2012
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PAD Day 26—Fur, Fowl and Animal Poems
Today’s poem challenge is to write about an animal, addressing any aspect desired. Okay, I can do that. Like most people I’m fond of animals. They serve so many purposes within our lives that to have a world devoid of them seems sacrilegious.
Growing up in the country guaranteed that I knew and appreciated the roles of animals in our daily lives. So many years later, I still consider them the gifts of the earth, put on loan to us; teachers to teach us how to be guardians. You can decide for yourselves if we’ve ever learned the lessons.
Some creatures inhabit our dwellings as friends and family members. Others enrich our lives with their colors, textures, uniqueness, and myriad dimensions. The poems I’ve done today for this challenge are from both sides of the animal question; in house and outside it.
As always, I hope you enjoy these small efforts of mine. Take the time to comment; share some of your animal tales with others, if you wish. Above all, take a good look at what your life would be like without the non-human inhabitants in your life.
Companion Truth
Brandy orbs trusting, I see
Filled with love looking at me,
Gentle power of loyalty
Ever near, ever dear sentry.
Raise the call with nose held high
Licker of feet for miles gone by,
Pass this way my care to enjoy
Walk at heel my life an envoy.
© Claudette J. Young 2012
Vixen’s Siren
Screams fill the night,
Terrorizing the listener.
Finger hovers over 911,
Until reason asserts truth.
It’s spring;
Her annual mating ritual begins
With blood-chilling siren song,
Seeking company for the nonce,
The vixen readies to entertain.
© Claudette Young 2012
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PAD Day 23 Prompt: Write a morning poem
Walt Whitman's use of free verse became appreciated by composers seeking a more fluid approach to setting text. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
I begin my day like most people. Yet, within ten minutes of getting up the computer is one and I’m in my chair beginning the day. The time of day varies according to the hour I got to bed the night before.
This month, which is winding down and has many of us scrambling to complete writing challenges accepted twenty-three days ago, has forced me to accomplish at least four things each day that wouldn’t have been there otherwise. That’s a huge change, but a welcome one. Even as I feel harried on occasion, I also feel vindicated in my belief in self. If nothing else has come of this month, I have that for however long I choose to remain true to it.
Since I’ve already announced the poetry prompt of the day, let’s get on with it. I hope you enjoy these offerings for this Monday morning.
God’s Alarm Today
Ribbons of ethereal light-splashed color
Pour out their hearts for my sake,
To bring me back into this waking world
Without need for jangling noise
Or mind-bending musical accompaniment.
© Claudette J. Young 2012
Sleep
A moan, a stretch, each signals awareness
Of body, long seconds before mind is engaged,
Just before spirit reclaims thought to realize
Your presence is gone with night’s dream.
Wonderment at spirit’s choice of companions
Floods the body, releasing joys at reunion
With one absent so long from life’s path,
Giving solace with knowledge of future visits.
© Claudette J. Young 2012
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Senedipity and Friends
Serendipity waves her wand across our lives on a regular basis, whether we realize it or not. I read Robert Lee Brewer’s Poetic Asides writing prompt this morning and thought, “Yep, I can do that one and had a title immediately.”
It wasn’t an original title; so few really are original. On fill-in-the-blank prompts, Muse either slips you filler quickly or not. I took an unconscious page from my old IBM days and did an “if, then else” statement in my head after I wrote the title. **For those unfamiliar with old programming code, an “if, then else” statement is one which is a prompt in itself. “If X happens, then what will happen next. If X does not happen, the what will happen next.”
For Robert’s Day 20 Prompt—Use “Let’s (blank)” as title. Fill-in the blank with word/phrase, use as title, and write the poem to it, my mind went to an old roommate back in the seventies and how things went from there. I called it–
Let’s Dance the Night Away
Two AM call caught us finally sitting,
A pair of disco addicts who came each night
To crowd a small floor, meet with friends
And laugh with others in new steps.
You faded from my life not long after,
A need that required distance to perform
Without recriminations or ever-afters,
A fact you could never appreciate.
Two to tango was never the real problem,
Though taking advantage was your forte,
For a con man needs only a woman’s faith,
Never was my enjoyment at issue.
Frankly I outgrew your need to mooch and moan;
Now my life and resources are my own.
© Claudette J. Young 2012
Along the same lines but with different outcomes, just a couple of days ago, I reconnected with an old friend with whom I hadn’t talked since the mid-nineties. This was a person for whom I’ve searched for years with no success. He, too, had searched for me. Now that reconnection has ensued, life seems smoother than days before.
There’s so much to catch up on, so many personal travel logs to read. As I look toward this acquaintance process, I can’t help but look at this poem as a kind of letting-go of unfortunate experiences and a taking-up of those which uplift and secure.
Serendipity strikes again. Did she see it coming? Were the two events entwined on my star chart under a heading of “Let’s put things right”?
I hope you enjoy this day’s offering. Please leave a comment as you wish. Here’s hoping Serendipity waves her wand over you today.
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Cracking the Genre Code
(L to R) American science fiction, fantasy, and horror author William F. Nolan, American science fiction and horror author Jason V Brock, American science fiction and horror author John Shirley American science fiction author Frank M. Robinson . (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
Did you ever think of poetry as a vehicle for science fiction and fantasy? If you haven’t, don’t berate yourself. Most people haven’t.
Today’s poetry prompt, though, asks for that very thing. Poetic Asides Two-for-Tuesday Prompt Challenge: Write a science fiction poem and a fantasy poem. So without further ado, I give you my response to that challenge. (Note: For me, it can be serious and filled with drama. I can also do the twist.)
Paramis Shared
Where mottled sky and earth meet,
Dark shadows pool amid cliffs and plains.
Under stars making up Ryan’s Hope,
All my children begin their pilgrimage
Toward the annual space dome challenge,
On a search for tomorrow’s new tech,
That will ease the days of our lives
And take us through the coming cycles
Of our guiding light, with the bold
And the beautiful flashes of Earth’s last
I wait for their return, for their new knowledge,
Knowledge that will temper our fears,
Watching as the world turns its face once
More toward our sun, to live in constant day.
© Claudette J. Young 2012
Paths
Road traveling star lanes
Divested weather vanes,
Enter worlds before unknown
Ever searching adventure,
Many times liquid streams,
Plains, mountains, fancy dreams.
© Claudette J. Young 2012
Dream of Home
Green-lit caverns deep
Warmth-washed moisture seep,
Emerald pool crystalline
Bathers recline, eased within.
Muffled laughter ripples soft
Against pinnacle ceiling aloft,
Spending regard gentle and pure
Ever drawing me toward the lure,
Of sweetest home beyond compare
Acceptance true in the heart’s lair,
Smiling eyes open embrace here
Evaporating distant fear.
Know longing gentle breath
Inside home’s green caverns depth.
© Claudette J. Young 2012
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