Sunday, January 7, 2024

Double Haiga Sunday Selection: Silver

Image taken May 7, 2017 at the Denver Aquarium.

silver scales flashing

delicate water dweller

not long on the earth

Image by Siggy Nowak from Pixabay

standing straight and strong

the mighty silver birch trees

lining forest path

notes

Prompt used:

https://chevrefeuillescarpediem.blogspot.com/2012/11/carpe-diem-52-silver-birch.html

It's been seven months since I last worked on my Aquarium Project. I would like to get back to doing this on Sundays.

The top photo and the two Haigas are my intellectual property. You are welcome to use them, but please credit me if you do. A link back to this blog would also be appreciated.

the hops

https://magicalmysticalteacher.wordpress.com/

https://image-in-ing.blogspot.com/

https://photosunday.net/

https://viewingnaturewitheileen.blogspot.com/

https://magicalmysticalteacher.wordpress.com/

http://myjustsostory.blogspot.com

https://mersad-photography.blogspot.com/

https://odysee.com/@GamingAmbience:6/destiny-2-edz-echion-control-legion%27s:5?r=GTwnGJ4fFBQfzuJgpHVpfKBKaC9b8B16

Free use image by Gordon Johnson on Pixabay

Legal Eagle's Corner

https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/4.0/

BY: credit must be given to the creator.

NC: Only noncommercial uses of the work are permitted.

SA: Adaptations must be shared under the same terms.

If you want to use this Haiga for commercial purposes, drop a comment with your contact information and I'll contact you.

Saturday, January 6, 2024

In the Present Tense #8Sunday

Photo by Mathilde Langevin (mathildelangevin) on Unsplash

In the Present Tense

“My husband’s name is Rama Abadjiev. He is thirty-eight years old, and he is from the country of Turkey. We have a three-year-old daughter named Claudia.”

Natali Dhaval repeated the information to the forensic team who pulled her husband’s body from the pool as if referring to Rama in the present tense could return him to life. Part of her realized the medical examiner needed to know if she had any information about her husband’s drowning, but she couldn’t bring herself to admit he was dead.

“My husband’s name is Rama Abadjiev,” Natali repeated. “My husband’s name is Rama...”

notes

I went off the rails a bit in December. I want to continue sharing the drabbles I wrote last May.

Five of my (C. L. Hart's) drabbles can be found in The Damned drabble anthology. I didn't submit this story for potential inclusion in The Damned because while the situation described is horrible, it doesn't qualify as horror.

Pick up your copy of The Damned here:

http://books2read.com/DamnedDrabbles

http://wewriwa.blogspot.com

Sunday, December 3, 2023

Condensed Poetry remix

Image by Azam Ishaq from Pixabay

rushing back to springtime days.

in a familiar setting

thankful I'm still here.

a mystery left behind

frozen and disconcerted

must face the winter.

trying to refresh

cold weather sets in.

stones of green

In a twist of the plot.

cold winds blowing from the north

for such small creatures

celebrate the tiny triumphs and hold on.

Celebrate the tiny triumphs and hold on.

For such small creatures

Cold winds blowing from the north

in a twist of the plot,

stones of green

cold weather sets in

trying to refresh--

must face the winter.

frozen and disconcerted

a mystery left behind

thankful I'm still here

in a familiar setting

rushing back to springtime days.

notes

I took the common lines from my two remix poem to make this.

Our brand new furnace isn't working, the technician won't return my calls, and I'm feeling very emotionally dysregulated.

Time's Up #8Sunday

Photo by Igor Lypnytskyi (ilypnytskyi) on Unsplash

Time’s Up

Eulalia Bonner, the mayor of the Village of Peace on the coast of Nucleycia, read the crumpled three-word note again, as if mulling it over for the thousandth time would bring any more resolution than reflecting on it for the nine hundred and ninety-ninth.

TIME’S UP, BITCH.

If she refused to allow the churlish Duke of Atrar access to Nucleycia via the Port of Malfair, he would render every one of the Village’s pristine white buildings to rubble. If she gave into his demands, the entire population of Nucleycia would suffer.
“We must stand up to him,” Mayor Bonner declared.

notes

Pick up your copy of The Damned here:

http://books2read.com/DamnedDrabbles

http://wewriwa.blogspot.com

Becoming (Poetic Remix)

Image by Florian Berger from Pixabay

becoming a star

become your true self.

seize each opportunity

rushing back to springtime days.

land of eternal summer

in a familiar setting

thankful I'm still here.

a mystery left behind

frozen and disconcerted

must face the winter.

seeking clarity

trying to refresh

cold weather sets in.

stones of green

heart like a still-life painting.

the luck of the draw

search for the fountain of youth.

days growing shorter

In a twist of the plot.

cold winds blowing from the north

small changes are best

for such small creatures

I celebrate the tiny triumphs and hold on.

when we show kindness

we bring relief to others

healing our own souls.

I always remember those Christmas scenes

summed up in four words

as old as me:

payments of magic money.

Image by Gerd Altmann from Pixabay

Saturday, December 2, 2023

Poetic Recipe for Catastrophe

Image by Dorothe from Pixabay

after Halloween

the fright fest continues on

when money is owed;

Story of my damn life.

my stuffed animals deserve better,

maybe I do too.

a lack of money

is the root of much stress.

I'll sing the Down Payment Blues with my man Bon

and Poor Boy with the Box of Frogs gang.

My voice may never make me a dime

but I've decided

I'm gonna use it anyway.

I catch glimpses of childhood in my dreams,

I was worried every day.

The anxiety doesn't go away

Just because you turn eighteen

or twenty-one

or sixty-four.

There's no lady at the counter

to offer me a ride on the Snowman Line

in my time of need.

I'm breaking all the rules of poetry

but I don't give a damn.

I'm gonna write this mess around

just have a little fun for once

not care what anybody thinks.

Better not walk into the blizzard

even when you're buried in debt.

Celebrate the tiny triumphs and hold on.

For such small creatures

we are very destructive.

Don't set yourself up to fail

when the New Year comes calling.

Cold winds blowing from the north

in a twist of the plot,

a halo around the moon,

impossible dream.

One made a hero today

Becomes a pariah the next--

dark disappointment.

the first thought is stones of green

when cold weather sets in

trying to refresh--

lost in indecisive mists

even the sweet rose

must face the winter.

frozen and disconcerted

a mystery left behind

thankful I'm still here

in a familiar setting.

the cold air cuts to my bones

in this big old winter house.

if I could return

rushing back to springtime days,

lead a quiet life

rise above limitations,

upon my last night

I will take flight into space.

~Ornery Owl Has Mixed It~

Image by Layers from Pixabay

notes

https://www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/2023-november-pad-chapbook-challenge-day-19

Write a custom poem.

This prompt came on the 19th, but because I do a poetry remix every year, I decided to save it for the end. This competition always comes with a poetry rewrite too, so this year I'm going to do the remix and then turn the remix on its head. The result will either be poetry blended to perfection or a hot mess!

Friday, December 1, 2023

Last Night Flight

Image by StockSnap from Pixabay

upon my last night

I will take flight into space

becoming a star

notes

https://www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/2023-november-pad-chapbook-challenge-day-30

Write a last night poem.

I decided against back-dating this one.

This year I'm writing not one but two remix poems, the first one starting with my first poem from this year's challenge and the second one starting with the last.

November was a stressful month. I'm not sure December will be much better, but I'll be striving to unfuck some fuckery.

~Ornery Owl Has Spoken~