Writer. Feminist. Historian. Person.
falling from grace, shame
left cold in the dirt, crying
rising, triumphant
Thanks to Ronovan Writes Haiku Challenge for the haiku word prompts (fall / cold) and to Tales from the Mind of Kristian Word Prompt for the storm theme.
And if you haven’t then get out there and VOTE FOR CHANGE!
No. And here is why …
When I started on Word Press (about 2.5 years ago), my intentions for the site were straightforward. It was meant to be an extension of my professional life as an educator and author, so it made no sense to blog anonymously. Plus, I’m already “out there” so if people want to find me, they can. My only self-imposed rule was based on my sense of integrity. Essentially, if I wouldn’t say it “in real life” then I wouldn’t write about it.
Fast forward a bit and my original intentions have changed a bit. I kept forgetting to post or redirect people to my “work” stuff (mostly biographies, history pieces, and sponsored content). Mostly, however, I didn’t realize when I began that I would find so much enjoyment playing with the kinds of writing that I don’t do “in real life.” I’ve become obsessed with writing haiku and flash fiction. The challenge of conveying meaning with limited words is intoxicating.
Live and learn
So … long story short, if I was to begin again I’d probably go incognito, simply to amplify the freedom to play.
Dust Bowl memories
strewn like weeds in her mind’s eye
bloom as fragrant buds
Image credit: Pisauikan@ Pixabay
Sometimes the muse strikes hard! Thanks to Sadje’s WDYS Challengefor the beautiful photo. That smile!!! She immediately struck a very specific chord in my mind and heart and to Ronovan Writes Haiku Challenge for (unwittingly?) providing the perfect words (dust / weed).
forfeiting the rule
ancient veins are surveilled, and
weird words seize the day
Please enjoy my silly haiku in which I wax poetic about that pesky (and often untrue) “rule” of I before E except after C. Weird gets me EVERY time!
And thanks to Linda for a fun SoCS Challenge. I had to look every one of them up!!
Time has lost all meaning. Had it been one year? Twenty years? One hundred? More? She had stopped trying to count the days long ago. But she had believed–really believed–she’d be able to note the seasons. Hoping to mark the years. Imagining she’d be able to picture their faces as time passed.
She had wanted to be prepared. Be ready for the day when this ended. To not flinch when she saw her mother’s weary eyes and her father’s body wracked by time. To smile when her baby brother gazed down on her instead of reaching up for a hug. To love what is instead of mourning what was lost.
But the light was funny and she got confused. Never knowing whether she had slept for moment or a day or more. So she lost track of the seasons. Couldn’t count the years. She still felt as if she was waiting. Hoping. But she was no longer sure why. Or what she was hoping for.
For him to save her?
For an axe to end the lingering hope?
For a fire to burn them both to ash and scatter their doomed love into the wind?
For time to end?
The light was growing dim again. Perhaps she’d sleep for a moment. She could think about this another time. That was one thing she knew.
There was always more time.
The image is provided by Janek-Sedlar at DeviantArt and shared thanks to Fandango’s Flash Fiction Challenge.
Thanks!! I needed a kick in the butt to write some FF.
Tina Stewart Brakebill 