A.G.E's Joint

  Emily is not used to the cold Sweater never off Dreaming of the cute instructor In the lounge. Pastor piqued interest Of skiing down the peak Mom thinks he's a creep As she peeks into the room She's along for the ride Everyone else is the same way Built for warmer climes Beach is her sandman

The phone chirped. Daddy was drunk. Could she crash at his place? It had happened before. He replied without thinking.  A modern version of Belinda Carlisle, she was pleasingly thick, bleach blonde hair restrained with a butterfly barrette. The nose ring was an afterthought of rebellion. A monstrosity of a purse was slung over her shoulder. It could pack enough stuff to keep her for days. Tonight was going to be different. It would be a vacation of a different sort and he’d hang for it. The remark came out almost involuntarily. All his life, he had gone by the mantra "I can't fix that".It allowed him to miss more than one female trainwreck. He could never figure out why she was different. The bio-units were not deserving of the title parents. On the surface, it looked like a typical upper middle class family, nice house in a pretentious subdivision, nice cars in the garage. Dad, when he was around, was drunk or high. Mom lived in her own little world, denying her precious...

Monday night and it's late. The Busch cans are stacked on the table in front of me and the last thing  I remember is  a fast food law commercial before drifting off. "Over $1 Billion recovered. Call today to get your best settlement..." ******************************************************** I find myself in a large room, maybe a warehouse. A stack of storage containers sits in the corner of the room, each contains a dream.  Eenie, Meenie, meinie, moe. I choose a pink one, the second one from the top. The effort it takes to pull it out is exhausting. I hesitate briefly. Is it showtime in my dreams? Will it be comedy or tragedy? The room goes dark. A light flickers to my right and I enter it. I am in a river gorge, Palisades Shoals. Teenagers are climbing the cliff that runs along the bank. At the base is a group of girls dressed only in twelve-pack beer cartons, daring each other to jump naked into the water. Some boys nearby overheard and began to cheer: "Show us! ...

All legs, no chin Limp locks dripping on thin shoulders Gazing through the glass At the blue frock Trying faces Some of satin, some of steel Thin lips reflect her doubt Damp wings bent Out of the chrysalis Is she ready to fly? Not a person yet A stranger comes along Waiting to take her into the wildfire Of life. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Topic- Diana Jillian Pic- Christine Wichman Pic guesses: Bent (in blog) Damp Wings (in blog) Earthbound Misfit, Fallen angel, Flightless, Chrysalis (in blog), Fly Away.

Sea foam dress Pale pumps Pink panties peeking From the shadows Stepping  to the podium Marking time Make believe Command and control Before womanhood Wins

Seafoam eyes Boring into my soul From the 8mm screen   A fantasy in Silky soft   Lingerie Stretching barely Over her assets. Small Fox Chased by hounds Following impulses  They can't control. Your mother Wants you To return Her broken world Can you smell The Gingerbread In the oven?   Can you see The tree house Where imagination Took flight? Or do you only see Needles  And slaps When there wasn't  Enough business? Where are you Mystery. Fantasy. Let us bring you Home.

I've been having fun this week trying to figure this set of prompts out.  I started with some bad poetry: Wisps of steam obscuring the view Of a snow covered walk We look like something the cat drug in Disentangling arms Sweat soaked hair Tender skin We love like lions Fifty times a day. You are Zachariah Level higher than others. Burning brightly Over all. And while everything is in there (the odd fact is Lions can mate up to 50 times a day in season), there was something unsatisfying about it. So, I tried again, using a story about how my cat drug in an owl (or the owl chased him in). And that way, I could mention how owls have three eyelids, one for blinking, one for sleeping and another for keeping their eyes clean.  And I could mention how awesome (again on the level of Zachariah) it was to have the thing staring at me.  But, then people would say: "Pics or it didn't happen".  He was so surprising, I grabbed a beach towel (to toss ...

In a dream I was a bird A sad, lonely mourning pigeon On a flowering gargoyle Fearing beauty  All was ugliness to me. Eyes closed to the light Only grey I see Rain off the branches Running down my back Every day was just black. Picture: "One Lonely Bird"  (c) 2012 http://widdendream.deviantart.com/. Joy is Sorrow's negative Fears go with dreams.  That is your lesson for the day.  

In a non-descript suburban skyscraper outside Dallas, Tx… Rrrrinng Rrrrinng “Hello.   It’s a great night here at Devil’s Quill communications. If you are going through Hell, keep going!   My name is Bale, how may I help you?  Yes, we have specialized Wrath Telemarketing and E-marketing solutions to any annoying situation... You say your ex-wife did what?   Ran off with your best ex-friend Ray?... No, Sir.   We aren’t the company that handles adultery against spouses, that would be our affiliate Greener Pastures…She took the dog and kids, too? That is terrible! I’m so sorry, Sir.     Maybe could I interest you in our menu of wrath and false witness options?   We don’t do the violence ourselves, but several of our lying solutions have been known to end in the death of the recipient by playing on the human desire for control...How does it work?   We start with recorded life insurance pitches that emphasize the imm...

  Fuzzy memories of a beach at sunset. Your silhouette against the storm, sunlight bursting Through the top of the dark cloud Fractals of scarlet and indigo  Surround you. The call came as a mystery to me So long apart and now so near  Glorious it is my wandering  Time has come To reunite and renew To finish old business And begin some new Come to me now Let me be the sunlight at the top While you rain down upon me. While we wash ourselves away.  

She flashes across my screen An Instagram taken on a dare Or in a fit of pride Uploaded to the ether To be shared Like a baseball card No uniform No wrapping of any kind Just what she has And what she has added Minus what life and gravity Took away Alluring? Yes and no. Like a plane crash I can't turn away From the Instagram Of her dream.

Hmmm... Longing. The wanting of something that seems out of reach. Our longings change.  When we are children, it is a toy we saw or a maybe a chocolate cake. As teenagers it was that mysterious one of the opposite sex.  And for those who actually caught the prize, not knowing at all what to do with it. As adults we long for wealth and power, even though we know deep inside it really isn't good for us. And now as a older type person, longing for the success of our children and the love of the grandkids that may or may not have come. Along the way we trade important things for our longings, only to find out we were better off if we hadn't. But it doesn't matter. In the end, when we find the ultimate freedom, we all are at the same place..

Dream catcher From a hula hoop A parting gift She left Splinters in my Mind’s eye. Takes me back To the field Thin form shining Against flaxen ground Hurrying to share Before the dark Daylight is precious To us youngins Take and make Hay before the dusk Exchanging kisses As she is leaving Leaving me grateful For loving her.  

Two very Very small flowers Lie bored in the garden Watered in the Spirit Warmed by the grace of God Watch them grow Blooming out To start a seed For two very very small flowers.

The image in the mirror beckons you What the French call Errance awaits Hair of honey flows downward Goth Girl transformed By her love saying Only: Ah, you Shouldn’t have The ring Shines