My newest adventure is underway. It has lead me to take up residency in a new blog,
Like the Feathers of an Arrow (affectionately known as LFA).

...don't open...don't throw away... is not disappearing completely (not yet),
but postings here will be limited.

Wednesday, December 14, 2011

6 Plotting and Planning

The proximity of the voices rendered him immobile. They weren’t supposed to be there. He had planned things out so carefully, spent hours watching the house and days trailing their every move. He had even gone so far as to insinuate himself into their life to eliminate surprise just like this one. They spoke now in harsh whispers as though they thought the walls had ears—if only they really knew. The shuffling of their feet moving closer to his hiding spot caused the hairs on his arms and neck to stand on end. He did his best to quiet his breathing fearing the slightest intake of breath might give him away. He had been so focused on staying unnoticed he almost missed the tenor of the conversation. While he had come here to rob and pilfer, their words were a gem he could live off of for years. A smile pierced his lips as he pulled out his phone and began recording the discussion. Dollar signs flashed before his eyes as they spoke of retribution in the form of murder. When they finally left, he stepped out of his hiding spot and looked around contemplating leaving while the coast was clear. With a shrug he thought to himself, why not, and began to forage for valuables.

i decided once again to steer away from poetry for this week's Three Word Wednesday [3WW=>immobile, proximity, retribution].  i must admit, while i do it infrequently, i enjoy flexing my non-poetic muscles.

Tuesday, December 13, 2011

6 Irrational Illusions

Irrational Illusions

social endeavors
breed paranoid delusions
in whispers and taunts
unheard words that brush the neck
tickles which incite
involuntary cringing
where shoulders rise up
a manner of protection
from something not there
surroundings push in
like walls closing all around
stealing breath from lungs
while tears push to the surface
where clenched teeth push back
striving to maintain control
a steel composure
to protect from eyes not there
now the fight expands
to new social arenas
where fingertips touch the world
in fresh mediums:
chats, blogs, tweets, podcasts, emails…
an unending list
ripe for paranoid fancy
steeped in social angst
no longer felt in whispers
nor in “watching” eyes
but rather in the silence
a painful echo
driving irrational thoughts
emails of boycotts
meant to explain still voices
tweets unretweeted
reinforce perceived lacking
as the world shrinks in
the pressure expands tenfold
crushing from the inside out

i wasn't sure when i started this that it would end where i had intended it to start...i thought it would simply follow a parallel line of thought and i'd have to come back to the original thought in another piece. but it found its way back...strange really how things find there way. although technically i did not make way into the intended conclusion...just to the beginning...which i'm sure makes no sense to anyone but me since only i know the original intent.

anyway...this is my offerings for this weeks OpenLinkNight over at the dVerse~Poets Pub, an extraordinary place were an eclectic group of individuals come together to share and celebrate poetry.

Monday, December 12, 2011

0 i should be stronger than superman by now...

She sat at the desk staring off into space. It was happening again. Something in her life had gone awry and it ate at her. She knew she had to talk to the person who’d set this roadblock. She had to make peace with it, if not fix it.

Unfortunately, there were things in life, which she could not deal with emotionally well. She clenched her teeth and widened her eyes to keep the tears at bay. The feeling that swelled inside her chest pushed and pulled at her muscles.

It’s not fair, she thought, normal people don’t feel like this. They don’t get so worked up. They don’t dread the idea of confrontation. It’s just not fair that she has to deal with this turmoil, this anxiety that surfaces whenever things seem to go uncontrollably wrong, to no fault of her own.

Air forced its way out of her mouth trying to expel the tension in her chest and shoulders. She rubbed her brow with her right hand and bit her lip contemplating the implications of how the future would be if she let it lie. What she foresaw was unhappiness and it hurt.

The will to move forward, to continue with daily activities, vanished. This war going on inside her was debilitating. The collision of the unwelcome future and the desire to mend it battled for control of her emotions.

Expelling another fit of air, she pushed all thoughts from her mind. There was no place for this war right now, maybe not ever. It was time to move forward. She needed to except that in life there were things beyond one’s control, times when one must learn to deal with being unhappy. A small mocking smile pierced her lips as her mind absorbed the idea, what doesn’t kill you, only makes you stronger.