The Fool #8Sunday

   

Genre: Poetry

Heat Level: Poetic

Blurb

Poetry; a unique and beautiful way to express feelings and ideas. Weaving words into perfect poetic prose, these authors remind you of your childhood, bring comfort from the hardships of life, fiercely spur emotions, and tell tales of old. All lovers of poetry will find a favorite here!

Featuring poetry by the following authors: John Grey, Kellee Kranendonk, J.E. Feldman, Debbie Hadow, Nina Padolf, Dibyasree Nandy, Brianna Witte, Nnadi Samuel, Rhiannon Bird, Sunayna Pal, Christopher R. Muscato, Vanessa Bane, Edward Cody Huddleston, Prathyush Devadas, Ed Ahern, and Cara Hartley.

Snippet

the fool

The fool climbs a lonely path to the moon

hoping her dreams will be realized soon

seeking amnesty and adulation.

The fool gazes into the gloom

falling from the trail to her doom

pulled away from the truth by deception.

Falling for the twin lies

the promise of popularity coupled

with the belief that she was worthless.

She wasted her life chasing the approval

of the teeming masses

who couldn’t care less about anyone...

Save for themselves.

Buy Link

http://books2read.com/SoulInk1

The e-book is currently available for pre-order. It will be released on June 23, 2023.

Pre-Order Price $1.99

Ornery Owl is Outstanding in her Field

Free use image by Pexels on Pixabay

http://wewriwa.blogspot.com

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Scar Tissue

 

Image copyright The Real Cie

You're welcome to use it, I guess, but I don't know why you'd want to

Please credit me if you do

breathe

I guess

more or less

that's the first step

that I should take to start

the process of rebooting me

use meditation to rejuvenate

attempting to reboot the process of healing

healing the scar tissue deep within me

heal what has started to decay

you can't heal what's rotting

scars never fade

remaining

behind

veils

~cie~

The Nauseating Notes

It was supposed to be a diatelle, but I saw too late that those have a rhyme scheme, so it's just another stupid Diamante. Yes, I suck.

http://www.octpowrimo.com/2020/10/octpowrimo-day-18.html

Buy more brooding poetry here

https://bit.ly/getmorepoetry

This poem was posted to these places:

http://fishypoets.blogspot.com

http://poetryofthenetherworld.blogspot.com

https://lbry.tv/@poetryofthenetherworld:9

LBRY is a decentralized content marketplace. I price the PDF versions of my work at approximately half of the Kindle price because I receive the entire amount rather than a royalty percentage. 

You can get a free LBRY account through this link. You can earn LBC for viewing content on LBRY as well as from selling your content.

https://lbry.tv/$/invite/@naughtynetherworldpress:d

Copyright Information

The Icky, Sticky, Nit-Picky Legalese If You Please (Or Don't Please)

Copyright 2020 by Naughty Netherworld Press/Poetry of the Netherworld

Reblogging is acceptable on platforms that allow it. LBRY’s reblog function is called repost, which makes things confusing since reposting is considered a no-no on most platforms. It’s fine to share the post using the repost function on LBRY. It is not okay to copy-paste the material into a new post.

Sharing a link to the post is acceptable.

Quoting portions of the post for educational or review purposes is acceptable if proper credit is given.

Ornery Poetry Sunday: Wildfires

Image from the Lamar Ledger 17 August 2020

https://www.lamarledger.com/2020/08/17/colorado-wildfire-update-august-17-williams-fork-grizzly-creek/

such a hot day

my shadow needs to cool down

under the willow

smoky haze filling the sky

world is burning around me

~cie~

notes

The Hokku (three-line stanza) is © Kyoshi Takahama (1874-1958). The Ageku (two-line stanza) was written by me.

I am well to the northeast of where the above image was taken, but there are wildfires all over the state. We are surrounded by haze. 

https://chevrefeuillescarpediem.blogspot.com/2020/08/carpe-diem-tan-renga-wednesday-17.html

I will likely never publish this work in any collection. But who knows for sure?

This poem was posted to these places:

http://poetryofthenetherworld.blogspot.com

http://fishypoets.blogspot.com

https://lbry.tv/@poetryofthenetherworld:9

https://bitpatron.co/orneryowl.id.blockstack

http://ko-fi.com/naughtynetherworldpress

http://patreon.com/naughtynetherworldpress

Want more Ornery Poetry?

http://bit.ly/getmorepoetry

Copyright Information

The Icky, Sticky, Nit-Picky Legalese If You Please (Or Don't Please)

Copyright 2020 by Naughty Netherworld Press

Reblogging is acceptable on platforms that allow it. LBRY’s reblog function is called repost, which makes things confusing since reposting is considered a no-no on most platforms. It’s fine to share the post using the repost function on LBRY. It is not okay to copy-paste the material into a new post.

Sharing a link to the post is acceptable.

Quoting portions of the post for educational or review purposes is acceptable if proper credit is given.

Ornery Poetry Sunday: Bully Is As Bully Does

Image by Andrew Martin from Pixabay

I don't know who needs to hear this today

But if you are bullying a bully

The way the bully bullies his victims

Using the same cruel words as he uses

You have just become a bully yourself

~Cie the Ornery Old Lady~

Ornery Owl

Free Use Image from Open Clipart Vectors on Pixabay

I am feeling quite heartbroken today, close to suicidal. I feel that my work is worthless as am I. But I will try to believe and will keep going just in case things can improve somehow.

I wish you all the best.

The Icky, Sticky, Nit-picky Legalese If You Please (or Don't Please)

Copyright 2020 by The Ornery Old Lady

Reblogging is acceptable on platforms that allow it. LBRY’s reblog function is called repost, which makes things confusing since reposting is considered a no-no on most platforms. It’s fine to share the post using the repost function on LBRY. It is not okay to copy-paste the material into a new post.

Sharing a link to the post is acceptable.

Quoting portions of the post for educational or review purposes is acceptable if proper credit is given.

This work was published on 1 August 2020 on these platforms:

https://lbry.tv/@crazycreativescheerleadingcamp:2

https://bitpatron.co/orneryowl.id.blockstack

http://ko-fi.com/naughtynetherworldpress

http://patreon.com/naughtynetherworldpress

http://poetryofthenetherworld.blogspot.com

http://fishypoets.blogspot.com

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Weekend Writing Warriors 19 July 2020: Ornery Poetry Archive: Rain

http://wewriwa.blogspot.com/

http://www.facebook.com/groups/snippetsunday

I wish it would rain

Gloomy day with gray haze

Like the not quite sorrow in my brain

The sky won't cry

Neither will I

Guess neither of us have it in us to try

I have too much

But not enough

Too much trouble

Not enough of the right stuff

I wish it would rain

Wash away my weariness for just a while

I wish the sky would cry

So I wouldn't have to.

~Cie~

Written for the unfortunately now-defunct Alpha-be Thursday

And Now the Notes:

I'm combining Weekend Writing Warriors and Ornery Poetry Sunday. I've uploaded both of my poetry compilations in PDF format to the Poetry of the Netherworld Channel on LBRY. These compilations are also available in Kindle format, but the PDF versions cost approximately half what the Kindle versions do. Visit the Poetry of the Netherworld channel here.

https://lbry.tv/@poetryofthenetherworld:9

I highly recommend getting a LBRY account as an alternate venue for sharing your work. LBRY is a decentralized marketplace where you can set your own price and keep all your earnings. An LBC is a form of cryptocurrency. It was worth about $0.02 at the time of this writing.

https://lbry.tv/$/invite/@naughtynetherworldpress:d

For more information about where you can find and consume Ornery Poetry, visit this link.

http://www.naughtynetherworldpress.com/p/places-to-support-poetry-of-netherworld.html

This poem was written on 21 March 2013. Later in 2013, I regretted writing it because the area I was living in was hit by a flood. My car was hit by a wave of water coming across the road in an area that was normally a field. I struggled with PTSD for some time after that incident, feeling that I didn't deserve to write because people had died and I was still alive. 

I may be dredging poems out of the archive for a while. My life is still quite a chaotic mess from dealing with cleaning out my old mobile home where I lived for 18 years with severe depression and very little in the way of assistance or compassion from others. I was able to make myself go to work and take my son to school, but not much else. The end results are catastrophic. But life is better now even if it is still stressful, and we would like to get on with the poem, wouldn't we? Let's do that.

~Cie the Ornery Old Poet, In Case You Didn't Know It~

The Icky, Sticky, Nit-Picky Legalese If You Please (Or Don't Please)

Copyright 2013 by Cara Hartley

Reblogging is acceptable on platforms that allow it. LBRY’s reblog function is called repost, which makes things confusing since reposting is considered a no-no on most platforms. It’s fine to share the post using the repost function on LBRY. It is not okay to copy-paste the material into a new post.

Sharing a link to the post is acceptable.

Quoting portions of the post for educational or review purposes is acceptable if proper credit is given.

A paid version of this poem was published on 17 July 2020 on these platforms:

https://lbry.tv/@poetryofthenetherworld:9

https://bitpatron.co/orneryowl.id.blockstack

http://ko-fi.com/naughtynetherworldpress

http://patreon.com/naughtynetherworldpress

The free version of this poem appeared on 18 July 2020 at

http://www.naughtynetherworldpress.com

http://poetryofthenetherworld.blogspot.com

and on 19 July 2020 at

http://fishypoets.blogspot.com

Naughty Netherworld PSA: Social Distancing Acrostic

Image copyright Annalise Batista on Pixabay

S is for sliding and side-stepping away

O is for only staying within your own circle

C is for care of yourself and others

I is for isolating

A is for always taking precautions

L is for spreading love, not contagion

D is for dancing at least six feet apart

I is for insisting on doing what's right

S is for soap and frequent hand-washing

T is for taking time to be safe

A is for asking others to maintain a safe distance

N is for nicely considering needs

C is for compassion and consideration

I is for indoors in your own home

N is for nature in a place that's uncrowded

G is for growing and changing to find new ways to do things

~cie~

I am aware that this reads like a motivational poster.

Content coyright 2020 by Cara Hartley

Please do not repost

Reblogging is acceptable on platforms that allow it.

Sharing a link to the poem is acceptable.

Quoting portions of the poem for educational or review purposes is acceptable if proper credit is given.

NaPoWriMo: Write a poem about the letters of the alphabet or perhaps a poem where the letters form a short word. I kind of took liberties with that idea.

April PAD Challenge: Write a poem about social distancing. There you have it!

If you enjoyed that poem, there's more in my first published poetry volume, Another Autumn. Available for 99 cents on Kindle.

Cross-Posted to:

Dark Hearts Love Too

Naughty Netherworld Press on Publish0x

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Sly Speaks + Fat Friday + Friday Flashback: Diet Culture Rhetoric Is Not Poetry

This poignant gem was originally published on 17 January 2010 on my now-retired poetry blog.

life It would be far easier to diet if I didn't like food.

This, apparently, was the entire-ass poem.

A year later, I would finally take the long-needed step of ditching diet culture for good.

That is a terrible statement, let alone being a terrible poem. 

It isn't even a poem, it's a blurb. A very stupid and brainwashed blurb. It's a tweet that shouldn't have been tweeted. It is a lot of things, none of them good. A poem it is not. 

The Chili Bean Tanka is a better poem, and it is not a good poem. In fact, it is close to Vogon poetry in its poetic injustice.

It goes a little bit something like this.

I ate the chili

between the beans and the spice

digestive horror

beneath the cover of night

noxious eruptions take place

As I mentioned previously, I struggled over the holidays. My abusive partner ED (Eating Disorder) reared his ugly head and I relapsed into my old restrictive eating and self-loathing patterns. Which, by the way, never made me thin, they just fucked my metabolism over and made me hate myself even more. 

However, reading this micro-poem that should not be, I could see where I'd been myopic in my criticism of a poet whose book I reviewed recently. I gave the book overall high praise, but I stated that her "poem" which read as follows, and I quote:

love ends but calories are forever

was not so much a poem as unfortunate diet culture rhetoric, and I wouldn't want to read it as a tweet, let alone in a book of poetry.

Given the unseemly evidence above, that critique was hypocritical of me.

However, there is a lesson to be learned.

Next time you think publishing a pithy pearl of poignant perspicacity such as this...

Go to the kitchen and grab yourself a snack. Or at least have something to drink. Your blood sugar may be low because if you think that's worth publishing, you obviously haven't been thinking clearly. Step out for a breath of air and clear your head of the Diet Culture nonsense. You've obviously bitten off more of it than you can chew.

That being said, Words Written in the Dark is, overall, a thoughtful and thought-provoking volume of modern poetry, and I recommend it highly.

Fat and Ornery

Image copyright Open Clipart Vectors

Ornery Literary Services

Sly and Snarky

Image copyright juliahenze @123rf.com

We're back!

What Lunch Looked Like

How y'all am are? I was not expecting to be back so soon, but, as fate would have it, I'm here and so are you! So, let's do this!

After spending a freezing night without power in the old Grover Hotel, the Ornery Old Lady (that's me) and Sonny Boy headed to Greeley to gather up some supplies in case we were looking at another night to a week or more of this. We stopped at Taco John's, a place I haven't been to in some 35 years. In fact, that's where I made my last post from!

I was glad to find that Taco John's still tastes the same, but the price about knocked me out of the ballpark. Twenty bucks for a chicken quesadilla, a stuffed taco, Potato Ole's, drinks, and some guacamole, queso, and sour cream. Honestly, it's not that bad for today's prices, but I can remember when I was in high school and would go to Taco John's instead of eating the cafeteria swill. I'd have five bucks on me and get a whole meal and still get change back. Well, so it goes.

We went to Home Depot and bought a propane-powered space heater and looked into getting a backup generator. We picked up a snow shovel, which I thought was steel. It was aluminum and it bent easily. Not a winner there. We got a flashlight and a mini lantern. Then we headed to visit my son's second cousins on his father's side. They said that if the power was going to be out for a while, we could bring the cats and stay with them.

We hit the King Soopers to get some nonperishables like crackers and tinned kippers and then headed for home.

My son was reading the instructions for the space heater and I was getting the snow shovel out of the car when he came running out in an excited mood. The power was back on! I looked down the street to see the blinking red light just beyond the general store, and it never looked so beautiful!

It's still colder than a well-digger's ass in the old Hotel, but the furnace is back on and the temperature is rising. I've got salmon, potatoes, and corn in the oven. I also have (I hope) a fun opportunity.

I am going to need help deciding which poems to put in my manuscript for the November PAD Chapbook Challenge. So, for the next month, I will be having a Battle of the Poems. I will put up two poems, and I would like readers to decide which of the two they prefer. You can give me a reason, or just say "I like number (one or two) best." 

There will be a prize as an incentive for helping me. 

The person who comments on the most poems will receive a $5 Amazon gift card in their email. In the event that there is a tie, I will use a coin, dice, or Random Number Generator to help me choose.

I think this will be fun, and I hope I can get a few people to play along.

The first Battle of the Poems will appear tomorrow!

~Cie~

Real Cie Reviews: Of Illusions and Ink Spills

Genre:
Poetry

Rating:
Four out of Four stars for Online Book Club
Five out of Five Stars for Amazon

Disclosure:
I received a free copy of this book for review purposes.
If readers purchase a copy of the book through the link provided, I receive a small commission from Amazon.
This review is a duplicate of my review on Amazon.

You can read my exclusive review of this book for the Online Book Club here.

If you like your poetry untamed and not afraid to wander off the beaten path, then Divya Hirani's short volume of playful, avant-garde verse is the book for you.

These free-verse poems explore a myriad of ideas in an almost laid-back fashion. Some might call the tone of the poetry depressive. These works are actually closer to grungy, viewing the world through a realist's somewhat jaded but not ready to give up lenses. If these poems were characters, they would be introspective loners walking resolutely through the shadow of life with a low spark of humor twinkling in their eyes as they took in the sometimes absurd scenes around them.

~Cie~

Cie Reviews Books

Free use image from Pixabay

Fetch: I Just Wanted You to Know

A Lost World Version 4

Photoshop Art by The Real Cie

I just wanted you to know

You seemed eternal, you know

And part of my mind which doesn't work quite right believes

That this is still what's going on

And you aren't dead and gone

Taken from the world 

By a disease that destroyed your mind

I'm sorry I got angry with you

For something which was in no way your fault

I believed in you

I wanted to meet you

I wanted to be your friend

I knew no-one like you could ever love me

I know for a fact that no-one can

But I hoped that maybe you would like me just a little

I still love you 

But I fuck everything up

I wish that we could reconnect

I wish that we could try again

Image copyright Skeeze

I'm so hungry for something I haven't a recipe for

I want to believe in magic

I want to believe in dreams

I want gentle ghosts to haunt my graveyard

And my house and my carousel

I want you to come visit me across time

I would give you a place to hide

In my heart or my pocket

I keep your picture in my broken locket

Beautiful little fractured spirit

You are so much more than you know

I wish that I could hold you to my breast

And soothe the sorrow from your soul

The feeling does go both ways, you know

I still love you

I would try again a million times

Sweet thief of hearts

Come steal my heart

Again

And again

And again

For Gerry from Pepper

Notes:

This poem was created for Team Netherworld's long-running WIP, Fetch. 

The backstory for Fetch (and the stanza just below the carousel image) can be found here.

Five Line Fetchy Fragment: Hunger

Image copyright Skeeze

I'm so hungry for something I haven't a recipe for

I want to believe in magic

I want to believe in dreams

I want gentle ghosts to haunt my graveyard

And my house and my carousel

Cie for Gem

Ondina for Serab

Pepper for Gerry

Prompt Used:

You can stop right there and just read the poem, or you can continue on and read the long and rambling notes.

Notes:

This story poem was created for Team Netherworld's longest-running WIP, Fetch, which is a Lovecraftian paranormal romance.

Fetch's protagonist is Gerry Clifford, a Scottish musician raised in London's seedy Crouch End borough from the time he was twelve years old. (As inspired by Stephen King's Lovecraftian short story, Crouch End, which can be found in the 1980 anthology, New Tales of the Cthulhu Mythos.) As Gerry's cognitive and physical abilities deteriorate, he is placed in London's Candlelight Ridge Care Home. Gerry's spirit begins to go AWOL from a body which no longer works properly, and he discovers that the unfortunate residents at Candlelight Ridge are not simply succumbing to the ravages of age and infirmity, their souls are being harvested by Yadira Root, an ancient high priestess of the notorious Cthulhu Cult and the daughter of Nyarlathotep himself. Pursued by a hostile hive entity, Gerry turns to troubled American medium Pepper Baiij for help.
Many millennia previously in another star system and possibly another dimension, Gerry was a thief named Serab. Serab was a member of a race persecuted by West Zecor's tyrannical King Qweh, who captured the hapless thief one day and presented him to his sister Princess Ondina, an empath whose primary function was attempting to ameliorate the destruction and chaos caused by Qweh.
Qweh hoped for Ondina to be irritated when he gave her the tiny, elfin Serab as a replacement for her slain bodyguard, but Ondina did not react as Qweh hoped. She treated Serab respectfully. There was an immediate attraction between Ondina and Serab, although Ondina was statuesque, stately, and a member of the ruling class while Serab was small, rough, and a member of an oppressed race.
When Serab was brutally murdered by Qweh at the end of the doomed planet Zecor's existence, Ondina sent his soul to "the realm of the yellow sun" with the admonition that the pair must never meet again. Ondina hoped to protect her beloved from Qweh's threat that he would destroy Serab in any lifetime where he and Ondina reunited.
Serab eventually reincarnated as Gerry Clifford while Ondina reincarnated as Pepper Baiij. The star-crossed lovers were finally reunited when Gerry's spirit or Fetch began leaving his body in search of help.
It's doubtful that Fetch will ever be published in any kind of cohesive form. It remains Team Netherworld's favorite WIP.

Disclosure: If you purchase the book through this link, I earn a small commission.

Insecure Writers' Support Group May 2019: Cie Plans Ahead

Image copyright Conger Design on Pixabay

As the sort of person who tends to fly by the seat of my pants, I like to instill some discipline into my program by participating in writing prompts. However, as I discovered this year when participating in Camp NaNoWriMo plus the NaPoWriMo and Poems in April prompts at the same time on my poetry blog, and the A to Z challenge over at Naughty Netherworld Press, too many prompts can feel more like a cluster flock than an inspiration.

Image copyright The Atlantic

This nightmare vision is a massive flock of starlings. I don't have a bird phobia, but I find this a bit unsettling. I don't like swarms of anything, and that includes people.

Camp NaNoWriMo is much more flexible than NaNoWriMo. I was using it as a tool to inspire me to pull together my first poetry book. I'm not sure it succeeded. 

NaPoWriMo's prompts are optional. One can participate in NaPoWriMo without ever using one of their prompts.

Poems in April's prompts are not flexible.

The A to Z blogging challenge doesn't have any hard and fast rules other than, you know, having your posts go in alphabetical order. The subject you choose is up to you. 

I used the A to Z challenge to introduce the bold and bawdy characters from Naughty Netherworld Press' Carnal Invasion series to the world. This was enjoyable but labor-intensive. I don't think it would be a bad thing to plan next year's A to Z Challenge this year and have at least a rough draft version of the posts ready to go for next year.

For the poetry project, I believe that next year I am going to go with Carpe Diem's Spring Kigo. This will work fine with NaPoWriMo and Camp NaNoWriMo, plus there is a feeling of continuity, and I can hone my Haiku. There are people who loathe Haiku. I am not among them.

If either the NaPoWriMo or Poems in April prompts strike my fancy, I can hammer out a bonus poem. My -666 fans will be thrilled!

I had planned to answer the Insecure Writers' Support Group question in this month's post, but I'm not going to--again. Maybe next time.

~Cie~

Catastases

The Beginning of the End

Photoshop Manipulation by The Real Cie

Good people are like candles

They burn themselves up to give others light

You gave me your promise

With the expectation

That we might know love together

The length and measures of our days would wax long with love

You were and still are the one

But I became suspicious as I always do

Causing the strength of our love to be eroded into catastases

Marking time until the inevitable tragedy

I was wrong

Though I have always been poor, your love made me rich in spirit

Now I have only memories

Of a love that could have lasted forever

For Gerry from Pepper
and for Gem from Cie

Word list

Catastases

Promise

Suspicious

love, might, know, length, long, measures, rich, makes, wax, wrong, strength, one

Prompts Used:

100 Word Challenge

The Daily Post

Hourly Writing Prompts

Sunday's Whirligig

WNQ Writers

Yama's Shop of Souls

 Copyright Samuel Araya

 Copyright Patrick Jennings

Yama's Shop of Souls

Yadira set up shop down in the Bayou

If you give her one week's wage then you can buy you

Access to the soul of one who's crossed

Across to the land of death and gotten lost

Sometimes people try to stop you, you know they just don't hear ya

Forget them and take your troubles to Yadira

For the Team with love from Yeris

I hope you like it!

I believe

Prompts Used:

Pic and a Word Challenge 

Six Sentence Story 

Victorious Vocabulary

Writer of the Prompts 

Notes:

Yadira Root is a character created by Team Netherworld for our WIP novel, Fetch. She is a wonderfully wicked villain. I thought she deserved her own spin-off. 

Cross-Posted to:

Dark Hearts Love Too

Fetch

Strands of Eternity

Yama's Shop of Souls 

30 Days of Haiga 2017: Day 1: For Lafayette

Click to Enlarge

Click to join the 30 Days of Haiga challenge

Thirteen Week Streak: Week 12: Hermione

Hermione

On one of many despairing nights

A soul wishing to take flight

Took leave of the body, choosing, it seems

To float hopelessly in the sea of lost dreams

Surrounded was I by rotting things

Things with slippery skin and unseeing eyes

Not quite dead but not alive

I saw the phantoms of what I once believed

Saw the corpses of what I once conceived

I floated in the sea of my lost dreams

In this gruesome sea of decay and death

I hoped that I’d soon take my last breath

Nothing has ever worked out for me

I only want to be set free

Of a life that mocks me at every turn

It was then that I heard the voice

“It grieves me that you’ve made this choice”

I ignored the sound and floated on

If I let it be, it will be gone

But the voice persisted in its call

Why have you forgotten me?

I am your Hermione

That plucky girl who won’t give in

Who keeps fighting although it seems she can’t win

How could you forget the dreams we dreamed?

With anger I defied the voice

Let me alone, I’ve made my choice

You’re nothing but a Mary Sue

And so I have no use for you

Nor for these foolish, floating dead

Mary Sues aren’t all bad, retorted she

They let you see what you want to be

And though some dreams can’t come true literally

You can bring them to life literarily

Your stories make the world better

In this world my stories have no place

I declared with a frown on my face

And nor, for that matter, a place have I

So take your dreams and say goodbye

Begone from my mind, Mary Sue

I know this world has hurt you, she said

Still, you’re not ready to be dead

There’s still more that you can do

Though you can’t see, there’s worth in you

I believe in you, and I’m your friend

What use are imaginary friends, scoffed I

I have no need for pie in the sky

I work all week, and when the week is done

I seek out a little bit of fun

Fun is a thing which I fear is in short supply

We used to have fun, Hermione opined

Back when you had an open mind

There was nothing you couldn’t do

You loved the characters who worked with you

Why would you send us away?

I’m sorry, said I, but no hope remains

Every day of life’s a strain

Although I work many hours and days

I don’t make enough for the bills to get paid

I’m simply too tired to dream any more

Hermione had no more to say

With a tear in her eye she floated away

I was sorry for her to leave

With ambition flown away, I am left to grieve

For the dreams which once gave me pleasure

A world without dreams

Is a dead world

Without promise

~Cie~

Notes:

This is autobiographical, and I am very, very tired.

I will miss this prompt.

Cross-posted to:

dotheflash.blogspot.com

poetryofthenetherworld.blogspot.com

strandsofeternity.blogspot.com