MeeAugraphie

All new posts will be found. . .

2007-08-07T17:25:00.000-07:00

at MeeAugraphie.com. Thank you.

I have added to the blog description to reflect these are my former words.

Haiku - Evening

2007-08-06T16:20:00.001-07:00

One Deep Breath this week posted the most beautiful photo as our prompt (and new header) along with the word, evening. Stop by their site to see the photo and the accompanying haiku. It is well worth your time, and you will tumble on links to other wonderful haiku.

Yellow refuses
to give way to maudlin gray
Orange joins the fight

~~~~~~~

Evening creeps up
folds of rolling thunder
hide its path of stealth

MeeAugraphie
08/06/07

Words and photos are mine, please do not use without permission, thank you.

Monday Finds "Growth Rings"

2007-08-06T09:08:00.000-07:00

I find this poem interesting and wish to share it with you. Follow the link -- you may just find a poet or poem that sparks something inside you.

"Growth Rings" by Rose Dewey Knickers.

Y'all are missing a chance to compete

2007-08-05T09:04:00.000-07:00

Missy @ The Incurable Disease of Writing is lacking entries for her Show Don't Tell contest. Two of us have entered so far -- You don't want her to have to choose between just two people do you? Wouldn't it be more fun to make her work and have to read lots of entries?

The contest ends tomorrow! She may have to extend it, but come on, y'all, she took the time to come up with a prompt and a prize! You know you need the practice, we always need practice - and an excuse to do it, and Missy has given us one.

Besides it is fun.

Unconscious Mutterings - Oh, to sleep

2007-08-05T08:40:00.000-07:00

LunaNiña of Unconscious Mutterings, posts ten words each week for us to free associate. It is a quick and sometimes surprising exercise. It is also a fun one. Why not play along next time? Just click on link above! Her words on left, my responses on right.

Voices :: in my head
Have to :: go
Machine :: ready
Seventh grade :: English
Beach :: ball
Roommate :: sucks
Cyclone :: hit
Theater :: actor
Pregnant :: pause
Phoebe :: sings

I cannot just stop with her meme. I love to exercise my brain, so each week I write either a short story or poem with the words, attempting to keep them in the order given in the meme. Yet, I still want to make some sense out of them. . . My result this week:

Oh, to sleep...

Voices in my head
speak softly of
all I have to do --

before I go to sleep
they refuse to turn off
like a machine spinning in place
ready to take off at the touch
of a button

that never comes.

Seventh grade English,
romping on hot sand barefoot
to catch a beach ball thrown
by a roommate (for life),
moments when life just sucks
as if a cyclone hit land
and jerked trees and smashed bananas
and spit it out in my face,
theater, watching an actor
squirm from a pregnant pause that seemed
to go on past its due date,
my expertise at vocals (and sometimes words) --
comparable only to
to Phoebe as she sings
words and tones no one wants to hear
in the coffeehouse...

Someone, please push the button!

MeeAugraphie
08/04/07

Please, do not copy my crazy words,they also contain words from Lunaniña's meme, used with permission. Please do not copy hers except as part of her meme without her permission. Thank you.

Poem - Surely, Where are you?

2007-08-03T12:44:00.000-07:00

It is beautiful, isn't it!

This is a partial view of the 48 squares knitted or crocheted by 48 different human beings that was then labored over for hours by another human being(s), crocheting them together as one stained glass effect afghan for the Share A Square Project.

It is one of 140 afghans needed so each of the children who will attend Camp Sanguinity next summer can wrap themselves in our love and their own well-honed imagination.

Surely, Where are you?

Surely, you have a maiden aunt
or a boss that knits behind a rant?

Surely, your instincts are like radar
to detect a crocheter from afar?

Surely, someone owes you a favor
that knows a talented crocheting raver?

Surely, the young poet next door
would rather knit than clean a floor?

Surely, you know someone that rocks
to crochet a square smaller than infant frocks?

Surely, you know someone who knows someone
who will say "No problem, I'll get it done today, hon!"

MeeAugraphie
08/03/07

OK, enough, I felt driven to write ridiculous poetry to get your attention! Then just before posting it, I realized I had a better way to get your attention -- a simple photo of how beautiful the afghans are turning out! And, Shelly Kneupper Tucker gave me permission to use this photo. Unfortunately for you, the poem was written!

If you know ANYONE who can knit or crochet the tiniest bit, please, steer them toward Shelly at ThisEclecticLife.com. Encourage them to knit or crochet just one or two squares, tag it (with their name, town and state) -- and send them off to little old Denton, TX.

You see there, they will be joined together, to make a gorgeous afghan like this 1 of the 140 destined for the kids at Camp Sangunity. I'll leave the details for Shelly to tell, but you all do know how small 6 inches really is, right? So, it won't take long to make it. And her address is so easy, no long drawn out names of streets you cannot even pronounce -- just a simple PO BOX. . .

The idea is to have the afghan made by a minimum of 49 different people, 48 making squares plus the 1 or 2 workhorse human beings that then crochets them all together.

We can make a difference in a big way by doing a small tiny something. And it can be as tiny as finding the Surely persons!

If you are saying, "So what, what difference will an afghan make?" -- perhaps this list of 17 things to do with an afghan will explain it. Feel free to share it with others.

3WW - Tourist Trap

2007-08-01T11:04:00.001-07:00

Gray -- Fathom -- Memphis

Those words were thrust at us by Bone to show our creativity with for his meme, 3 Word Wednesday. A simple mission? Perhaps not this time. Check out the rules and the links to other creative writers who took on the challenge, including Bone.

Tourist Trap

No Graceland pomposity for us,
we explored dreary
of another kind
wandering just another
street
in Memphis.

I could not fathom
Beale Street's allure
until magic enveloped
as he pushed open a door
into history
and replaced the gray
of a mundane march
along cracked sidewalks
with
the blues of B.B.King's.

A new color wangled its way into
my heart that night
squeezing between
pounding beats of Rock
and
dum dum tek-a-tek of Mid-Eastern
to connect heart with soul.

MeeAugraphie
08/01/07

Check out, "The story of Beale St" -- as told by Rufus Thomas.

Your brain can come up with your own word combinations, please, do not copy mine.

Note: please let me know if the picture is in the header or not, it keeps coming and going, and without it the blog title is hidden from view -- as is the evidence of my age as it is my graying hair in the photo....

Changes are so much fun

2007-07-31T15:24:00.000-07:00

There is supposed to be a photo at the top of this blog -- of my blonde-gray-whatever-color hair -- but half the time it loads and half the time it doesn't. I was in the middle of searching for reasons and got distracted and found the most interesting template for Tumbled Words that allows people to comment NEXT to the post beside individual paragraphs or even at each number of a numbered list -- like TT - I linked on the first post to one of my Thursday Thirteens and made a few fake comments and then Damien and Shelly added a couple, too, so you can see how it works! You can also just comment like normal by clicking on the comment bubble with a page icon at the top, the individual comments are little comment bubble icons along the post. There are a few things to work out - I only just found it this afternoon. It even comes with comment instructions built in on the page! Check it out, Tumbled Words.

Contrast of Moods

2007-07-30T16:02:00.000-07:00

Bubbles cannot
contain excitement
as it bursts from
parents' hearts

Jump completed
to the water below,
he kicks his tiny feet
and flails his tiny arms
not in fear, but in success.

A stark contrast to his
screaming hate of life jackets
made known to all
within the county,
or was that the state?

Photos by MeeAugraphie sometime in late '79 or early '8o. Words, by same, 07/30/07.

Swimming skills taught by me under the guidance, and with the patience, of those at the YMCA in St. Petersburg, FL. He took lessons with me from the first moment they let us in the water for lessons when he was six months old until they forced me from the water when he was three.

The swim cap courtesy of ear infections and the tubes inserted at 17 or 18 months -- he never had another one. . . . (ear infection that is)

For Haiku on nature: compare and contrast, click here (or just scroll down)

My words and photos are not to be copied, thank you.

Haiku - Compare and Contrast

2007-07-30T15:25:00.000-07:00

We welcome Jennifer back to One Deep Breath! The prompt this week was: compare and contrast. That is something many do naturally! Why not go on over Tuesday and see who else has risen to the challenge. If you check that post later, they update the list of participants as they write their haiku.

Cracked earth should crumble
beneath weight of rushed footsteps
but springs back instead

~~~~

Imagination
seeks moonlight beneath blanket
flashlight creates beam

~~~~

Horizontal rain
hiding much from view frustrates
lightning blinds all view

~~~~

MeeAugraphie
07/30/07

For a non-haiku poem on contrast (and photo), click here!

Please, do not copy my words. Thank you.

Poetry Thursday - Lullaby of Mee

2007-07-30T08:11:00.000-07:00

Poetry Thursday is on summer break from prompting us, but we are all still posting and linking back to their Thursday post each week. Follow the link here and read what other poets wrote! We all have such different styles and subjects, you will be quite surprised at what you might find.

Lullaby

I'll keep you warm
within my heart
float safely in my arms

you may gaze
into my eyes
they'll reflect your sweet soul

go to sleep
hear your name
dream your own dreams in silence

know we will
show you how
to stand proud and be counted.

MeeAugraphie
07/30/07

Written with our son in mind -- about 29 years later than should have been. . . To see when it should have been written and read my latest Self-Rules written as a short poem: Click here.

(This is freaky! As I was copying this poem into the blog to save for Thursday, a commercial came on the TV. (I had forgotten to turn it off after checking traffic this morning.) It was the same lullaby that I had hummed as I wrote this.)

Words put together this way are by my effort, please do not copy.

Monday Finds "Going Home Again"

2007-07-30T07:31:00.000-07:00

I find this poem interesting and wish to share it with you. Follow the link -- you may just find a poet or poem that sparks something inside you.

"Going Home Again" by Sue Turner.

Unconscious Mutterings - First Job

2007-07-29T21:52:00.000-07:00

Lunaniña posted interesting words for us to free associate with in her Unconscious Mutterings meme. It is so easy to play along, you may want to jump on over to her site and play along. My associations to her words:

Traditional :: linens
Popeye :: the sailor man
Gin :: and tonic
Harsh :: reality
Topless :: dancer
The thing :: is
Defiant :: mist
Huge :: man
Food :: eat
Lenny :: Den
End of meme. Now, I always try to stretch my brain by using all twenty words in either a poem or short scene or story - in the order they were given. Not feeling poetic today, I just wrote. I thank Lunaniña for letting me take this liberty with her words each week. Note:, I had to edit this this morning. . . Trying to do it after my normal sleep cycle kicked in was not, well, it was, no, just say, I messed it up. OK, so now the missing words are added!

First Job

Michelle chose traditional linens for the bedding, though the theme
for the children's bedroom was, of all things, Popeye the Sailor Man
and Olive Oil. The room was for fraternal twins, born of parents who both grew up on the Popeye cartoons. It was a harsh reality for a designer who preferred classic lines to have a first client you had their eye set on cartoon characters, garish characters. Why she would rather guzzle gin and tonic in a bowling alley, of all places, than even remember Popeye existed.

Michelle could no more think the words without singing that ridiculous song than associate a topless dancer with other than a smokey bar and a pole. No, not a fireman's pole. No! I did not mean that either.

The thing is, she had tried steer her clients to a different theme, the ocean or even a castle and forest, but both parents and her own design partner were defiant; they insisted on Popeye and Olive Oil. She could not even allow herself to paint those two characters on the wall. She had to bid that part of the job out. It disgusted her to acquiesce, but she was a new designer and needed the job.

She did agree to paint the mist that hung over the boat in the harbor, just to cut costs, and yes, her eyes did tear up, fitting, she thought to
herself as she painted.

"His muscles are so huge he is ugly," she told her boyfriend that night
as they sat down on the sofa with the food he had picked up on the way home from the station.

"I'm Popeye the Sailor man. . ." He sang quietly as he held up a can of spinach - and a can opener, grinning.

"Sean! I..."

"Shut up, your food is going cold. Either eat it or I'll open this can of room temperature spinach and feed it to you while I enjoy this fried chicken. And be glad they didn't want a room based on someone like Lenny. You could have designed the Lenny and Denny bowling den while wearing a poodle skirt -- or worse."

MeeAugraphie
07/29/07

These words, both mine and Lunaniña's are not to be copied, but I hope you enjoyed them.

(Fiction) Friday --Something's afoot

2007-07-26T16:48:00.000-07:00


This Week’s Theme: Afoot Something's afoot, I must say not one child's shown up to play not one tired man has cracked a beer not one young girl has shed a tear Something's afoot, I had heard not one cat has caught a bird not one dog has chewed a bone not one cat has remained alone Something's a foot, I do declare not one dragon is in his lair Oops. . . . . . RUN! MeeAugraphie 07/26/07 So , these silly words are mine, please do not waste our time by copying them.
get the Fiction Friday code	about Fiction Friday
Technorati tags: fiction, fiction

Showing Not Telling Contest

2007-07-26T13:43:00.000-07:00

I discovered a blog yesterday that was new to me. Had fun today jumping around in discovery. I enjoyed reading Missy's posts, a bit of this and that, you may, too! She has a writing contest going, with a prize, though, the fun will be in trying to do as she requests -- show, not tell. She has a sentence all ready for you to work you magic with, I won't spoil the surprise, you can click here to get the sentence and the simple contest details.

Am I entering? Of course, but the first "entry" I started -- well, I got carried away and wrote a story, one I want to polish and submit to an editor. So, I'll be writing a shorter one right along with y'all. You have until "12:00 p.m. cst on August 6, 2007". Now, I don't know if that is noon or midnight, I never accepted the rules for am and pm - I always use military time so there is no room for confusion. So, you may want to submit it sooner, especially y'all staying up all night for Blogathon 2007, you may use a few of those minutes to write your paragraph.

So, go on over to Missy's post of the rules at The Incurable Disease of Writing - I bet we can all identify with her blog title, can't we!

Poetry Thursday - B.L.O.G.S.

2007-07-25T21:05:00.000-07:00

Poetry Thursday is on a bit of a break! But we are all still posting. Click on their Thursday Post to see who is writing!

I was commenting on Damien Riley's blog recently, Riley Central, on this post about Industrial Strength Blogging, where he speaks about just being ourselves as bloggers (something I strongly believe in, you may want to read that post!) This popped out of my head and into his comment section -- as an Acrostic of BLOGS, though I did not write it in Acrostic format. As an acrostic poem it would be written as:

Beseeching
life
overtures of
good
souls —

I instantly saved it, knowing it meant something! Today, it clicked. I could write it more like a Haiku:

Beseeching life,
overtures of good souls

Whichever way it is written it spells out BLOGS. Isn't that what many bloggers do, beseech life overtures?

Blogathon 2007 is around the corner, all 24 hours on July 28th! I wish I were able to stay awake all night to blog, we all know I love to write and spout poem drafts nearly non-stop. . . but those in my more immediate and physical world would be attacking me, 'cause I get mean with no sleep! And I whine, and I pout, and shout, and cry, and make mountains out of molehills, and -- well, you don't want to know anymore than that! But others, hundreds of bloggers are writing for charities, either teaming up or just biting the bullet and staying up all by themselves, unless we visit them.

They are making it easy for you to donate with links. All the charities are good, they all affect someone somewhere. For a list of all participating, head for the main site.

This, however, is a plea for those that regularly give to other charities to consider two that may be overlooked: Music and Reading.

Karen and the gang at Write Stuff are tag teaming to blog for First Book, a wonderful organization that gives children from low-income families the opportunity to read and own their first new books! I was shy growing up and so grateful my parents could afford to buy me Nancy Drew and The Hardy Boys, they kept me sane!

Can you imagine never having a book to look at? Leon and I still have a "romantic thing" about Hands, Hands, Fingers, Thumb by Dr. Seuss. (Don't ask.)

Jessica the Rock Chick is writing at Life is Rantastic for the VH1 Save the Music Foundation, an organization dedicated to restoring instrumental music education in our public schools, something more important to a person's education and well-being than many realize. Jessica will be up all night handling it for the most part herself, but with guest blog posts!

Now, remember, I promise not to sing if you at least visit their sites and see what it is all about! And believe me, you do NOT want to hear me sing - and I do have podcast capabilities!

And I won't draw your portrait if once you run by their sites you go the the main Blogathon site and check out who else is participating and for what charities - all the pledges are posted -- it is an amazing sight (and site)! There really is no right or wrong charity to support --

and as people who enjoy BLOGS - I know your heart is there.

3WW - I Had a Fan

2007-07-25T07:43:00.000-07:00

Bone chose the three words below as our prompt to use as a jumping off point for our words, whether a sentence, a thought, a poem, or other. For me, this week was about just cutting up also know as just having fun, not attempt to write great poetry:

reality
fan
mind

I Had a Fan

the reality is when I fan myself
(since it requires muscles
which, we all know, produce heat
during exertion)
it only heats my inner core
while tricking my mind
-- momentarily --
into thinking it is cooling my body,
for warm breezes created by a
steady flap flap flap of
paper pleats
(as they expand and contract)
and
dangling skin
(on my upper arm)
compete to evaporate sweat
from
my
body

leaving me chilled --

just an excuse
for my body to react with shivering --
contracting more muscles
which, we all know, produce heat
during exertion --
to heat
my
inner core.

I hate summer heat.
There is only one activity
worth sweating for. . .

no use for a fan there.

MeeAugraphie
07/25/07

Please, no copying these words written in fun with a ring of certain truth.

Haiku - The Comfort of Grief

2007-07-23T15:16:00.000-07:00

Jennifer of One Deep Breath lost her father on July 18th. Susan's prompt this week for our Haiku was "dedicated to Jennifer and her family and to those who, for whatever reason, need words of encouragement and comfort."

Jennifer, my heart goes out to you and your family.

May your tears turn from raging torrents to gentle snowfall
to blanket the darkness in white reflections. . . .

The Comfort of Grief

One tear shed followed
by yet another, mixed with
visions of life led

One deep breath followed
by yet another, mixed with
loving memories

While one fleeting smile
seeks another to wrap your
heart in calming balm

MeeAugraphie
07/23/07

My words are not normally meant to be copied without permission, however, if a reader finds any comfort in this poem, please feel free to both hold it in your heart and share it with another.

Monday Finds "Spaced Out"

2007-07-23T10:27:00.000-07:00

I find this poem interesting and wish to share it with you. Follow the link -- you may just find a poet or poem that sparks something inside you.

"Spaced Out" written by Gataumi Tripathy. Check it out!

Unconscious Mutterings - A Matter of Degrees

2007-07-21T23:52:00.000-07:00

Lunaniña chose ten words for us to free associate with for the meme, Unconscious Mutterings. These ten seemed harder than usual. Perhaps it was the distraction of the steady rain that is heavier than normal and also highly unusual for summer out here. I wanted to listen to it and write. . . my mind was too tired to do both well. LOL.

Deputy :: Shadow
Name :: and address
Arrested :: in time
Trade :: me
Old :: man
Fingerprint :: taken
Dwarf :: man
Newspaper :: ads
Gabriel :: angel
Certificate :: of occupancy

See how easy that really was, you really might have fun trying it yourself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I had to try once more to write a poem/story using all twenty words - in order without changing the tense - not part of the meme, I just love to exercise my brain.

A Matter of Degrees

Deputy (of all that is bright)
found Shadow lurking
but simply asked,
"Name and address, please?"
and went on with his rounds.

Once arrested in time, a memory
of those who trade in people
found me,
that old man -
whose fingerprint was taken
seemed, in a statistical manner,
a dwarf

compared to the man
whose newspaper ads threatened
to remove light
(from even the Shadow)
as he offered a reward to any who refused
Gabriel, or any angel, a legal
certificate of occupancy.

MeeAugraphie
07/21/07

I admit, this is really strange. . . I shall blame it on the darkness outside and the steady rain that threatens to flood the river. . . this is not the first draft, but rather the second (of a few lines, but not the main ones) as I was tired, and my mind struggled to make a story.

It anyone is crazy enough to copy this, that is a double shame. Don't. Ten are the words of the meme author, the rest are mine, so you would be doubling your copyright violation.

Date Night

2007-07-20T23:15:00.000-07:00

We sit
side by side
for Thai,
sipping tea,
leaning into each other,
people watching,
drifting in and out
of conversation,
in and out
of our surroundings
but
never
too far from us,
a hand hold, a touch,
the teeniest playful shove
(it is a restaurant, after all)
we talk of Alaska and moves
and for just a moment he dares
to dream like me. . .

is it only because it is nearly
his birthday?

or because he remembers,
for a moment,
other dreams
came true?

MeeAugraphie
07/20/07

Please, do not copy my words. Thank you.

Fear Aftermarket, a poem

2007-07-20T23:01:00.000-07:00

words advertised incite

thoughts swallowed once spew in foamed defamation

trepidation tiptoes quietly back inside
the safety of a bed full of pillows

hands hesitate to reach forward tuck beneath arm pits of despair

stomach shrinks as hope has been tossed repeatedly
from behind locked doors filled with peering eyes

envisioned peace sinks beneath waves of crimson tides

MeeAugraphie
07/20/07

Forget trying to copy these words, you would not be able to explain them if asked, even I have trouble deciphering them, and I know from whence they came, and it was not from the mouth of a copyright infringer, nor from their pen, or keyboard, or mind, or muse, or chalk, or written in their sand.

Straw Shots

2007-07-18T22:24:00.000-07:00

Poetry Thursday is still taking a well-deserved vacation, so we are left to our own devices. Once you have read my some what weak attempt at relating my recent culture shock, click on the link, rush to the comments and see who else spouted poetic words this week!

Culture shock

On the other side of the mountain
I ordered an Americano
crossed my fingers

would it be hot?
watered down?
resemble coffee?

(it was, after all, a motel
of no great repute)

"Straws?" she asked
and I thought she had gone daft

hot coffee and plastic straws,
what planet had I landed on?

"No, thank you."

My mind puzzled,
it defied logic,
(the straws and coffee,
not my brain)

Moments later, I knew
(I am quick!)

It must have started
when a salesman
in his white starched shirt and pleated
pants tipped his cardboard clad cup
(filled with
triple espresso or latte -- shaken, not stirred)
dripped on one shirt too many
then whined in his macho imitation

and she, the one dressed
in immaculate white pants, shoved
the straw from her iced coffee
that never dripped
through molded plastic deep into the bowels of his tiny
cup and said, "suck it up"....

And I, the irreverent one, was paid back
for this interpretation the next morning
as the smiling barista shoved
two tiny red straws
into the bowels of my tiny cup,

I did not recognize the danger
nor associate my vision of melting plastic
with HOT or fire in the hole of my precious mouth...

the coffee
found its mark through both tiny barrels,
it was no wonder I could not taste the
heated plastic.

MeeAugraphie
07/18/07

Now, I know a rational person would not dream of copying these words; so, if you are irrational, don't copy them anyway. Thanks!

Three Word Wednesday - Three on Coping

2007-07-18T10:08:00.000-07:00

Cope - Revealed - Stick: Three word prompt from Bone, to do with as we will.

Click on this link (after you have seen my personal craziness with the prompt, please). You will be led to a variety of writing styles, each one showing cleverness and a muse of their own!

Note to Bone: what have you done to us this week, chosing these three words? Well, to me, anyway? After writing the first two: one showing hope, one a downer, I wanted to write something hysterically funny. My muse actually laughed at me -- apparently. I am sure the silence that came was really just her laughter in disguise. And she took her sense of humor one more step and helped me write an Acrostic. . . I say she helped me, because I'm not taking total credit for words that make not a whole lot of sense. (Grin implied)

What really broke the camel's back?

"Deal with it," he said,
reaching for the remote
to change images from
decorating to guts and gore.

"Cope with it," mother said,
patting her arm,
her eyes revealed truths behind
the pasted smile on her face.

"Stick it!" she said,
with each suitcase she lifted
into the taxi in a show of bravado
while he was at work.

MeeAugraphie
07/18/07

~~~~~~~~

Intuition Ignored packed its bags

Stick to the plan
was advice given
when she revealed
her need to reorder
their lives.

He revealed no reason
for his controlling manner
nor did her instincts
rescue her from
pallid acceptance
that would eventually
erode her ability
to cope.

MeeAugraphie
07/18/07

~~~~~~~

Artistic licensed, an Acrostic

Calendar
operators
perused
each

stickman
that
Ian
Cope
killed, then

rescued,
entreating
volumes of protest,
each one
acrid, though only from
lucid and
elevated
dreams.

MeeAugraphie
07/18/07

Oh, my, I am in a weird frame of mind today, well, I'm not, but apparently my muse is! I won't tell you that I can almost make sense of that acrostic.

Remember, I rarely post other than drafts, whether first or second, and this is no exception!

Please, those few of you that see this as something, do not copy my words. People will not see you as you, but as me, and you aren't, me, that is.

Marriage Revisited

2007-07-17T22:33:00.000-07:00

Marriage Revisited

Stolen moments multiplied
like mosquitoes in a Florida swamp

Unspoken words spoke volumes
as eyes heard them in a flash of recognition

Heat burned or simply melted ice
like pipe organs bellowing scales

I do became I won't I might We will together
I can't I can I am You are We are together

Voices rang out in duets
like bird calls over train whistles

Words tumbled in raging torrents
and floated in quiet streams

MeeAugraphie
07/17/07

You know the routine, please do not copy my strange thoughts.

Haiku - Water or Life? - plus one more

2007-07-16T21:59:00.000-07:00

One Deep Breath chose bodies of water as their awesome prompt this week.  And as much
as I love water in all forms, these did not jump out immediately as usual. . . hmmm,
could it be just that for hours today I was trying to figure HTML and CSS? Perhaps.

Click on their link and travel to other bodies of water via the power of poetry.

Water or Life?

salt water supports
my body in cooled wetness
lost in space and thought

~~~~

time pauses as mind denies
all else but ocean's soothing
touch brings self-healing

~~~~

raging water flies
through roads meant for quiet drives
left too long unused.

~~~~

MeeAugraphie
07/16/07

I couldn't sleep, so I added one more:

Macho lions roar
as they muscle calm river
over mountain's edge.

MeeAugraphie
07/17/07

Words are mine, please, do not copy, thank you.

Monday Finds "Slippery"

2007-07-16T08:40:00.000-07:00

I find this poem fun and wish to share it with you. Follow the link -- you may just find a poet or poem that sparks something inside you.

"Slippery" written by Clare Clare's Sunflower Sky. Check it out!

Unconsicous Mutterings and poem -

2007-07-15T08:36:00.000-07:00

It's that time again! Free Association wordplay from Lunaniña, followed by my poem or story. If you want to do the Free Associations, just click on this link for her Unconscious Mutterings meme. Each Saturday night or Sunday she posts ten words for you to free associate. It only takes a minute or two. And it is fun to follow the comment links and see what others associated with the same words. It might just surprise you!

Situation :: sucks
Theme song :: forget it
Kelly :: Clarkson
Club :: sandwich
Swerve :: to miss
Couch :: potato
Bigfoot :: lives
Arbitrary :: decision
Inventor :: of much
Blazer :: vehicle

And, of course, loving challenges with words, I had to try using the words in order without even changing the tenses. Sometimes a poem, sometimes a story. I look forward to Unconscious Mutterings both for the fun of seeing what associations my mind will form in her free association and in taking it that one extra step of using them with a semblance of sense.

Life Themes

Situation sucks
doesn't it

when you choose
a theme song
and he says,
"forget it,"
and turns the radio
off and switches
on TV, watches
Club Soccer,
stuffs his Dagwood
sandwich in his mouth
and watches his player
swerve to tackle,
only to miss?

GOAL SCORED!

And the couch potato
roars in frustration
as the kids in the next room
grin and the youngest says,
"Bigfoot lives!"
as he grabs his plastic
men and returns them to
safety under the bed
away from the forest
that is daily life.

Arbitrary decision
or not the oldest
boy walks into the
lair of the hairy
creature and says,
"Manchester United
is kicking your team's butt,
eh, Dad?" and walks
out the door and into
the night where he finds
his quiet with the
inventor of much,
the blazer of trails,
the vehicle of life to come

as she eats alone in the kitchen
humming "their" theme.

MeeAugraphie
07/15/07

OK! You know the rules, do not copy my words or LunaNiña's. I asked for permission to use her words in my poems and post them here.

Make A Difference the EASY WAY

2007-07-13T11:55:00.000-07:00

Stop! Are you thinking that to help Shelly get 6720 squares to have put together as afghans for the kids that attend Camp Sanguinity means you and your friends have to crochet or knit tons of squares, causing your fingers to go numb because of carpal tunnel, your children to be unfed, your husband to be ignored (more than you MEANT to? Guess what! It really doesn’t.

I think many of us - when we mention it to others or in our self conversations - come across as if we want LOTS of squares from them. We are so used to being asked to give all. Even I was thinking that way, losing sight of her REAL quest: to have each afghan show the love of FORTY different people. (Well actually make that minimum of 41 because someone has to crochet them all together).

So, what that means is as few as one or two per person and you have helped! Of course, you could do more, in case not enough people participated or in case they DID and she can start donating them to other camps. So, what is needed is LOTS of people doing VERY LITTLE!

With that thought in mind, if you can do lots, great! Others have and more will have the time, but many don’t have the time, why they are wasting it reading this - or are they? I may have an idea that will work for you or someone you know!

It is you out there that is willing to do just one or two or three that REALLY will make this project be as she envisioned it.

So, let’s rethink how we approach people, remind them that this is SHARE a SQUARE, not give us everything you have. Maybe then more people will have time to participate. All they have to do is make one SIX inch square, then make a little tag with name and location (or just use your business card) and tie it on and stuff it in an envelope.

Now, that doesn’t mean you can’t have that twinkle in your eye, that hint of suggestion in your voice, that smile on your face that says, “but I really really want to see you do a bunch!”

I know if you told me just one I would be more apt to do it than if you told me twenty, although I have managed to get eight done.

I give you, Ways to get more people to do it with you:

- The easiest way: simply ask, it actually worked for me, I was floored!

- Challenge your friends, coworkers, neighbors!

- Challenge the men to put out! (You know what I mean!)

- Invite them over for a desert and coffee and a knit just one square night/afternoon.

- Invite couples over and let the men (unless they do needlework) just do the guy thing and hang out by the pool or over the pool table or in front of the TV while you all knit or crochet a square. They will love the opportunity to spend just a few hours with the guys and you will get to chat without them rolling their eyes or saying, “yeah, right!”

- Bribe those that knit or crochet that have tons of kids and really need to relax - offer to watch the kids for a few hours so they can knit or crochet a square! (OK, I may be pushing my luck now with that idea!)

- If you can knit or crochet, offer to show your neighbors or friends how easy it is (OK, so I haven’t learned to crochet yet, I can knit though.)

- Teach your school age or teenage daughter and her friends. Once they have learned enough to pull off a decent square, let her have her friends over for a girls night, get them a movie for later, snacks, whatever teenagers are in to now. Then show them an easy pattern for a scarf or hat.

- Get the whole family involved on family night! The little ones can stamp or color tags, the one who knits or crochets can do his or her thing, finishing touches or making more, the others can write out tags or further embellish them, someone can punch the hole, tie it on, address the envelope, put the stamp(s) on, and the littlest can put it in the envelope. See how easy it is! Then have a fun desert or play a game the kids have been begging you to play, heck just do Ring around the Rosy or I spy. Make it fun. Count your blessings!

- Write a letter to a relative or friend you have practically ignored for years, tell them you just need ONE little square made, send them the yarn, send them a beautiful photo, a peppermint candy, a cute card. Here is your EXCUSE to write that note you have been meaning to. Send the website url if they use computers.

- Have your children write a letter or allow them to type their first email!

- Do it for yourself if for no other reason, just get lost in the meditative qualities of knitting or crocheting, that quiet rhythm that slows your breathing and quiets your brain. . . and that quietness will envelope a child in love. You will have made a difference to one child by one square, a few minutes (hours?) of your time, even if scattered here and there over several days will affect more lives than just yours — obviously the child receiving the afghan will have the warmth and cuddle factor, the people around the child, especially, will appreciate the time involved and the love behind the time, as they probably have little to give others, and - you will have shown others it can be done, the children around you, especially will have seen that it can be fit in.

You may not be able to fix the world, but you can fix one tiny corner of someone’s heart and expectations of what can be. And that, y’all is one heck of a long term investment in someone’s life that will be passed on down the generations!

NOTE! This is one post you can copy, take pieces of, rephrase, whatever. You don’t need to give me credit or link back here, run with it. . . This does not just apply to Shelly’s Share A Square Project - but to any project. Brainstorming is my favorite thing to do other than tumble words out of my head onto a keyboard. I probably could have come up with more, but I have squares to tag and box up - and I have goofed off long enough! And yes, I am putting this on all my blogs, even their old versions still on Blogspot. Duplicate content, but, hopefully worth your time to read ONCE.

Share a Square, then take on the rest of the world!

And for you poets out there - a cute little haiku or poem would be a great addition to your card, write it on the back if need be!

Oops, Thank you, and Link to Brian's photos

2007-07-12T22:30:00.000-07:00

No Poetry Thursday for me this week. Not much reading of yours either.

Tomorrow is for Share A Square and pretending I am a housewife.

However, the latter may go by the wayside as I attempt to change the colors in the coolest of
ALL templates I found for this blog as I migrate it to Wordpress.org. One poem per page and a slight of hand. Surprise! awaits, things are hidden! Will you be able to figure out how to get to the next poem?

As usual I want it NOW and could have it now while I fixed the colors -- but, I have to find out how to migrate from Blogger to Wordpress when I have blogger on my own domain already. If you know shout out the directions location, please. But I will also hunt!

Brian, if you stumble on this before I get to reply to the other comment - Thank you for your help! I will try to fix it in the few minutes I have tomorrow! And y'all, hop on over to Brian's and check out the photos he has been posting of Morikami Gardens. They are awesome.

3WW - Rescue or Interference?

2007-07-11T09:06:00.000-07:00

Private - Crossed - Rinse

Bone came up with those words for our prompt. We write using then all, whether poetry or otherwise. Follow the link to his site for an interesting group of writers who love the challenge. Why not join us? No time? Schedule it in as exercise, the brain needs exercise, too.
(NOTE: it looks like my brain needs more exercise than I thought. I let Muse take over as always and she had Audacity leave out the word, "rinse". How dare they gang up on me. I think they are related to Mr. Murphy. Quite Prevalent now, but hidden then, and Instinct did kick in at the end, showing itself by wanting to highlight the words used, but I couldn't decide which way. So, since I like the poem as is, well, just say I failed Mission this week, but won in another sense. So, rinse away the tears that were shed in private as I crossed the line from being successful to losing -- grin. There, I've got them all now.)

Rescue or Interference?

It was
a private moment,

would have been

had he not crossed the line
of propriety

and stepped
around carpeted
dividers

to scrape the pills
I had not yet swallowed
from my tongue.

MeeAugraphie
07/11/07

This is fiction, y'all, not reality, just written in first person for effect.

My words are from my imagination or life, please don't copy them. Thank you.

Haiku - Feathered Friends

2007-07-09T22:56:00.000-07:00

One Deep Breath chose feathered friends as our prompt this week. Please, click on the link to their site to find the other poets who tackled or flew with this subject -- You will most likely be treated to interesting photos as well!

Work 'n Play

hungry mouths open
fed by beak not eyedropper
nature is winning

~~~~~
bird of red tipped black
buried in green waxy leaves
playing hide 'n seek

~~~~~

camera ready
sun peeks over my shoulder
black bird sneaks away

MeeAugraphie
07/09/07

Ok, this is the part the wonderful people can ignore as usual, but those few who aren't: a simple reminder that my words are meant to remain here unless you have asked me - in writing. And -- yeah, that also means a response from me in writing is required.

Monday Finds "The night Research went on a joyride"

2007-07-09T10:50:00.000-07:00

I find this poem interesting and wish to share it with you. Follow the link -- you may just find a poet or poem that sparks something inside you.

"The night Research went on a joyride" - written by Norma of Collecting my Thoughts. Check it out!

Unconscious Mutterings

2007-07-07T22:41:00.000-07:00

Lunaniña chose awesome words this week for us to free associate for Unconscious Mutternings meme. Her words are on the left, my association on the right. Why not play along each week!
Just click on her link each week to get the words or get her RSS feed, then you have the words when she posts them.

Happen :: stance
Terribly :: bad
History :: teacher
Master :: carpenter
Petrified :: me
Moan :: shrink
Attack :: charge
Picture :: frame
Students :: teachers
Potter :: James

'

Now, I like to exercise my brain and I love prompts, so each week I take the twenty resulting words in order and attempt to write a poem or story. Today it became a simple story, not great literature, but a chance to just let words come at will. If you should do this, remember to link back to Lunaniña, half the words are hers, after all.

History Class

It was merely happenstance that I had a terribly bad experience in history class that day. I mean, it is not like I chose the teacher or the desk I sat in. She was so old school she had a seating chart like in grade school.

Now, I normally was a master at memorizing facts. I think it was just that I had practice at memorizing things. The old man was a carpenter. He built our house and the one in Chicago that we lived in during elementary school. He also petrified me when he had been drinking -- and it seemed he was always drinking back then. My sister would moan and shrink back when he was like that, afraid he would attack her the way he attacked the man that ran into him in the parking lot, but I wasn't afraid of him, well, at first, but once I showed him I could be useful, well, I was more in charge of the situation.

You see, he hated it when something was not exactly even, even a stupid picture frame not dead in line with the rest of them would set him sputtering all over himself. And, if he had to cut something twice because he had measured wrong, well, even I wasn't immune to his anger - OK, it wasn't anger as much as drunken rampage, but, it only took a couple before my cleverness showed itself. I hung around him when he was building and measuring things, after all, he was my dad. And when he would measure something, he always said the numbers out loud, maybe so he would remember them, but he never did.

"Forty-two and seven eights," he said out loud the first time I stood there, and then he cut the board one half inch too short. He picked it up and slammed it so hard against the wall when he went to fit it that it put a hole in the drywall. Then he turned on me. Took twice of that happening before I got all smart and clever and asked could I practice memorizing the numbers, so I wouldn't be dumb at school. From then on, I stood by his side and memorized the numbers he read and then told him when he got his saw out.

Now, sometimes I messed up, but only twice. Didn't take no three times for me. So, that day in history class, Mrs. Stinson (We called her Winsome Stinson, but don't tell her that!) was asking students about authors that had made a difference in history. Now, she went in seat order, more of us than alphabet, but unfortunately she made it to me.

"The letter P, Mr. Smith. Which author made a difference in history?"

I looked down at my desk, stalling, I knew authors in the other half or the alphabet. She usually went the opposite direction. Why did she have to start with the other side of the room that day?

"Potter," I said, in a hurry to give an answer. "Harry Potter."

The class laughed out loud, old Winsome Stinson glared at them and said to me, "James, that is not amusing. You may spend Saturday with me at detention,
reading The Public Good by Thomas Paine."

"Yes, m'am," I answered. I would miss taking Mindy to the beach in Hattsville with the others.

"Now, who's winsome, James?"

MeeAugraphie
07/07/07

My words, not yours, so leave them here, thank you!

A stream of thought - minus opening remarks

2007-07-06T17:14:00.000-07:00

Future Plotted

waNe
pLan
leaP
Stop
reGroup
suRge
gAin

~~~~~~

Only a Game

one two
four six
twenty-nine
thirty-six

four two
fifty-seven
thirty-nine
holding

~~~~~~~~

Just Thinking

bookmarks
activate
thought
trading
yesterdays

~~~~~~~

Head and Heart

song
in head
bursts
into flame
cooled by
nature

fresh air
uses leaves
as instruments,
their melody
accented by
gas engines
decelerating
before ascent

while sun
joins forces
to turn leaves
into flashes
of light
and contrast

song
of nature
swells
heart
into receptacle
warmed by
nature

MeeAugraphie
07/06/07

~~~~~

Leaf Song

wind blows trees
leaves sing out
in celebration
for it is not
an angry gust
that blows

yet
within
melancholy
stirs
and spills

not celebration

because
(or not?)
there is no
one to raise
joyful voices
with - today -
at this moment
I'm bored with
my silent voice

or because
(most likely)
leaves singing
calls up
those moments
passed over
or through
or by
many
years
ago

when loneliness
seemed forever
unlike today.

MeeAugraphie
07/06/07

The opening remarks missing here is the first poem in this group. These actually followed the one posted here: Self-Validation, a tighter poem.

Hey, you! (No, not you honest people, ya'll don't need to even read this.) Don't bother copying,
my style of writing will not reflect well on your personality. Copy yourself.

Poetry Thursday - Independent Solidarity

2007-07-04T22:41:00.000-07:00

Independent Solidarity

One man
one woman

two thoughts
two opinions

mixed conclusion

unbroken dreams
realized fantasies

advantage taken
compromise given

union holds

MeeAugraphie
07/04/07

Poetry Thursday is taking a break. We are on our own to play. Please, click on this link to visit Poetry Thursday and see who played, we are listed in the comments.

Copying is not nice. So, please don't, you few who would even think about it. If you like my words, then feel free to link.

Haiku - Shadow and Light

2007-07-02T15:37:00.000-07:00

I've been in a mood(s), watching sad movies and listening to sad people -- in between dreaming grand dreams and laughing out loud.

One Deep Breath's prompt was simply: Shadow and Light. I had to force myself to stop writing, because I just wanted to write nonstop - I think in rebellion against West of Mar's Monday Poetry Train entry written by band member Trevor - he had a lot of nothing to say about angst and poets. If you haven't read him before, be aware the F word abounds, but the timing of reading that this morning and the prompt words from One Deep Breath today just ignited my keyboard. And, I can't help it, I found Trevor's poetry attempt quite amusing, but you have to have a sense of humor and not mind the language and understand she is writing through her book characters. But first, please, stay and read my angst and humor (with only one mild damn).

Remember One Deep Breath will post links to all the Haiku poets on Tuesday. They make it quite easy for you to click away to us all.

Presented in the order they came out of my head: Shadow and Light

Sun throws playful rays
in attempt to draw me out
I refuse to play

~~~~~~

Too bright, too damn hot
bakes my skin and fries my brain
Florida sunshine

~~~~~~

He seeks bright hot light
to cast out depression's dark
Shade is my solace

~~~~~~

It is not shadows
that cloud our comprehension
but brightness unchecked

~~~~~

Tears gather remorse
to cast shadows on what was
lit candles burn out

~~~~~~

illuminated
shadows show neglected tears
not heard in the dark

~~~~~~

angst lives in shadows
until poets pen the words
others dare not share

~~~~~~

to say lives are spent
without care, or abandoned
means shadows not viewed.

~~~~~~

MeeAugraphie
07/02/07

Words are for sharing, not copying. Thank you.

Monday Finds "The Sky Fell"

2007-07-01T22:06:00.000-07:00

Today is the first day of my newest post type: Monday Finds. I'm going to link to poems written by other bloggers that I find interesting: whether formal, informal, short, long, or just barely poetry. I am not going to attempt to comment on or critique them here, just provide the link so you can just enjoy them as a reader, not spend your time proving or disproving my comments!

It will drive me crazy only to post one a week, so, if you are into taking diverse pleasure in my frustration, go for it! Let's get started with today's interesting poet and poem.

I find this poem interesting and wish to share it with you. Follow the link -- you may just find a poet or poem that sparks something inside you.

The Sky Fell - written by ClockworkChris of Tears Shed On Paper. Check it out!

Unconscious Mutterings - Opportunity Knocks

2007-07-01T09:34:00.000-07:00

http://subliminal.lunanina.com/

LunaNiña of Unconscious Mutterings posts ten words each week for us to free associate. Who hasn't watched them do it on TV or done it at home clowning around. That is all there is to the meme, but somedays it can be quite revealing, and it is always fun. You should click on the link and play along each week.

Now, I can't just leave it at that. I use the 20 words in their given order and attempt to write a poem. Afterall, exercising the brain is good for us.

Partner :: Leon
News :: paper
Foam :: rubber
Paycheck :: spent
Me :: too
Eight :: is enough
Dairy :: products
Exciting :: life
Hockey :: puck
Socialite :: rules

Oh, I don't love my answers this week. I try to play fairly and really use the first thought and not the second or third. . . but combinations like this, well, they didn't feel conducive to a poem, but, hey, I tried. Remember unless I state otherwise all my poems are just drafts - as they came out.

This week's attempt:

Opportunity Knocks

He was my partner in crime,
this Leon man. Made news
when he found paper
stuffed with foam rubber
(the day after
his paycheck was spent)
and turned it into
an empire.

He included me, too,
in his get rich scheme
told me "Eight is enough"
would be a company that would
outsell dairy products,
that ours would be an exciting life
as we marketed paper pillows
and a papier-mâché hockey puck
to the rich by night.

We traversed society and
I could act the Socialite,
while playing by my own rules.
Eight was enough to charge
for our brilliance,
eight hundred for eight,
that is.

MeeAugraphie
07/01/07

Yeah, I've lost it. And if you want others to think you have lost it, copy this, but then you will have lost it completely, financially - since they are my words and not yours.

(Fiction Friday) Sir Easter Bunny

2007-06-29T08:50:00.000-07:00

(Note: If you are still visited by the Easter Bunny and tumbled onto this post by accident or while trying to find great things about him, look somewhere else, this is NOT for little ones. It is technical stuff, you know like math and science. )

Over at Write Stuff, they post ideas for us to wax poetic or spout out or whatever we wish. This weeks idea, in their words:

Pick a mythical person or creature (e.g., Santa, Thor, Easter Bunny), and explain through dialogue, essay, or anything else, why they are unhappy with their job or position in life.

Please, read mine, but then jump over and check the comments on their post to get links to other wonderful stories or poems, you just won't believe how these famous people really feel! What tumbled out of my head:

Things have to change!

. . . as told by the future Sir Easter Bunny

"Easter Bunny"

"Oh, Mommy, I want the Easter Bunny to come visit me and leave me lots of stuff."

I am so sick of hearing them call me a bunny. Do I look like a bunny? I am a rabbit, more on the lines of a Bugs Bunny, you know, with personality, strength, cunning, cleverness. Yes, I know, he even had bunny in his name -- but he was a rabbit in all senses of the word, not so mamby pamby bunny. He only allowed them to use Bunny as his TV name because they paid him big bucks! No, not bucks, like male deer, bucks! You know, money. I deserve the respect of being called, Sir Easter Rabbit. I bet if Queen Elizabeth knighted me, that would stop those mealy mouthed kids from calling me The Easter Bunny.

"Oh, Jackson, look what the Easter Bunny left me, I got chocolate and a bunny to hug and bubbles and crayons and toy trucks and. . . "

Jackson bit his lip and felt his feet fidgeting, well, as much as feet could fidget and still hold him upright. "That's nice, Marshall. Wanna play with the trucks?"

"No, let's play with your toys. What did you get? A plane or a fishing pole?"

Jackson answered without telling the truth, "I got a plane AND a fishing pole, but I left them at my grandmother's house."

Now, I am also sick of just being a figure head, like some celebrity star that does nothing but smile and let their picture be put on the billboards and in the TV. Yes, I am one, too. I know it, but when I signed on to this, I thought I was going to be more, I thought I would have total control over Easter morning gifts.

What do you mean, I must be daft to think the universe would give me that kind of control? Why wouldn't it?

What? It works like that? I had no clue.

Well, that is not how it should work. And why should all those kids get all those toys they just ignore or throw at each other or break - just because they can - when those other kids like Jackson get nothing. . . and then find themselves lying about it. Jackson knows better than to lie - his grandmother told him all about lying and telling fibs and cheating on spelling tests and how bad it all was. . . And, you know what, she is going to be awfully disappointed that he lied, 'cause he did get something for Easter, she made him his favorite breakfast, the one they can't afford. She went out and bought a piece of ham, real ham, not that canned stuff with all the junk inside the can, you know that slimy stuff that oozes all over your hands like clear glue. Yuck.

But you know what else, it will break her heart that he didn't get stuff, even though she knows he doesn't get all that stuff.

And you know what else? They will all blame it on me, say the Easter Bunny didn't bring him anything, the Easter Bunny played favorites, the Easter Bunny gave him more, the Easter Bunny is a pansy. AARRRGGGGHHHH, I can't take anymore. These parents all buy into it, they come up with the lamest excuses for buying all that crap.

I'm not a pansy, either, I am Sir Easter Rabbit. And on my honor, I promise that if a campaign is ever paid for to change my name, I will personally see that each child gets the same thing, and only from ME, not from those parents. At least ONE HOLIDAY everyone would be equal.

Yeah, you're right, I am dreaming, but hey, I am rabbit.

MeeAugraphie
06/29/07

Remember, our stories are just drafts, but then on my site that is all you will read anyway. Told as the words flew out of my head onto my keyboard, no sitting for long periods of reflection, just free flow.

And, you , that one or two dishonest person(s) out there who aren't real bloggers, but just hunters for stuff to copy, don't. My words are crazy enough only to be written by me, not you, they aren't a good fit for your site....

The rest of you, great people, thank you for reading!

Poetry Thursday - Wasteland

2007-06-27T10:54:00.000-07:00

(I have to thank Gay, her comment on another post about how quickly I write had me hunting for this post, I found it still sitting in the drafts. Stop by and read her words. She us up to Episode 12 in Norbert and Smedley! It is good stuff.)

I wrote this for Poetry Thursday this morning. We are being given free rein. Check out what everyone else wrote by following their links in comments at the Poetry Thursday link above. . . interesting stuff!

Wasteland

None bloom in the wasteland
that is his alone
Neither past nor present
seeds sent more than
naked stems for him
to gather

Touch, like that
of a baby's bottom
or a young woman's face
was unknown to his
withered hands

Voices raised in laughter
or choked in tears
remained elusive
blown away
in perfumed air
that never stopped
at his door

MeeAugraphie
06/27/07

This draft written in six minutes, I stumbled a moment on the wording of the last verse. For a fun look at what parenthood COULD be, if we would all only allow ourselves, click on this fictional poem written just moments before I wrote this one.

Mostly Untapped Power of Parents

After writing that one I thought about how much many of us fail to remember they are just kids, that melancholy came out in the next poem I wrote Wasteland. It was written from a prompt of ten words. I love prompts of any kind.

For that one or two of you out of thousands lurking in the blogosphere and preparing to grab someone else's words as yours - don't. It is unbecoming and plain rotten. Besides, only I can be me or any other poets/writers be themselves. Our words just wouldn't be a good fit for you!

3WW - Tae Kwon Do Test

2007-06-26T22:50:00.000-07:00

Bone made it interesting today! Even posted the words early. So, the following three words are his choice for our use in Three Word Wednesday:
- envelope
- negligible
- resent

You simply must play along - and read as many words of the participants as you can. We are such a mixed bunch of writers. Thoughts, poems, or stories, you just never know what you will read.

Tae Kwon Do Test

Push the envelope
he demanded
pulling himself
a bit more upright

his lack of self-confidence
negligible compared to his
need to stifle their
deprecating remarks

Resent no one
he reminded
pushing his body
as he kicked his foot out

waist high
wood splintered
the holder's body recoiled

Up yours, doubters,
he thought
bowing respectfully
swaggering inside.

MeeAugraphie
06/26/07

These words are not meant to be copied, then why would you?

Haiku - Butterflies

2007-06-26T16:23:00.000-07:00

One Deep Breath chose bugs and creepy crawlies -- all meanings -- for our prompt this week. I nearly went for those that bug me, but chose instead to reference an actual moment in our lives visiting a roadside park in the woods in Alabama.

Breathing in forest
Butterflies swarm unlike bees
gently kiss our skin

meeaugraphie 06/26/07

Please allow my words their home here and do not copy them.

Unconscious Mutterings - Tripod

2007-06-25T17:55:00.000-07:00

Lunaniña published an interesting list of ten words this week to do free association with on Unconscious Mutterings. Why not play along. It is fun and definitely not hard, and you may surprise yourself with your answers; I certainly have. Her words are on the left, mine on the right. I certainly wasn't very original.

Compulsion :: none
Spiritual :: entity
Spray :: me
Compatibility :: none
Pursuit :: of action
Fake :: man
Mobile :: phone
Ceremony :: stand on
Ribbons :: flying
Mozart :: piano

See, that was easy. Meme complete. Now, here goes, my attempt to use the 20 words in their same order and make a semblance of sense to them. Why? Why not?

Tripods

Compulsion to seek eternal life?
I have none, if it happens
it will be the
spiritual entity within
me taking control.

Today, I spray my thoughts
across keyboards
into cyberspace,
my compatibility with my
readers, not a given.

Me, myself, and I -
does anyone else see the similarity
to the trinity of Christianity
or the tripod that steadies a camera?

None, no one, nothingness,
another tripod, but a less desirable one.
brought about by non-pursuit of action,
by fake movements of thought in man
who has become more mobile,
using phones without concentration,
merely throwing words out, knowing
they can be denied when merely verbal
neither bound by handshake
nor words on paper, no ceremony
to stand on.

Yet here - and - over there,
peace globes and ribbons are flying
much as Mozart flew his fingers across
ivory keys, not only white keys, but
black keys as well, creating melodies
to reflect life.

Me, myself, and I, not a Holy Trinity
by any imagination, but a strong trinity,
a whole trinity, riddled with holes.

MeeAugraphie
06/25/07

These words came flying out of my head. . not edited, not planned, just sprayed onto the keyboard, tumbled from the recesses of my mind, as I attempted to write using the 20 words, Lunaniña's and mine. Hers are not mine to give, mine are not yours either, so, please, don't copy. Thank you. (Not that I can imagine anyone wanting to!

Good Morning

2007-06-24T07:30:00.000-07:00

I am otherwise occupied, but may get a few posts in! You could stop here and check these out:

While I am Watching Leon Work

(Fiction) Friday -Bad news cures all things

2007-06-21T07:07:00.000-07:00

This is my second week of playing along, when I first looked at these words my mind went blank, panic set in, I am never wordless! Within a few seconds I reverted back to my one-sided conversations - can't help myself, just love to write them, or maybe it is just all those one-sided conversations I have had with myself. No time to type quotations or anything. . .took me 6 or 7 minutes as it was. . . Draft, remember non-participants, just a draft. Now go out and write one yourself, it is pure freedom from all else in your lives.

Bad news cures all things. It does, I am living proof. Don't believe me? Ask John, he can tell you.

He does know. He witnessed what happened to me. I was limping around, my right foot was swollen.

Know, I don't know what I did to it. I just woke up with it swollen.

Bad circulation? No, I don't have bad circulation. Old people have bad circulation.

Funny, you are funny. I am not old, I am only. . . How old am I? Never mind, I know it is not old age.

Don't interrupt, I am trying to prove my point. So, I am limping horribly.

What do you mean I can't limp horribly? Of course, I can. I know how I limp. Quit interjecting.

It is not a big word for me. I know words like this: antidisestablishmentarianism.
I can even spell it, can you?

Thought not! So, anyway, I am limping around the house - horribly. Had to call in sick to work, couldn't have made it from the desk to the restroom and then out to the break room to get my coffee. I mean, I didn't want to get a cramp in my leg or a sharp pain in my hip trying to compensate. You know, walking weird to make up for it.

Weird? I am not weird. You're weird. Now, let me finish. So, Jacob called and said he couldn't come over this morning to help me clean out the drains. Of all times, when it is backed up with all that crap. And amazingly enough, at the thought of being home with all that crap overflowing into my house. My foot stopped swelling and I went out and played a round of golf. Bad things cured my foot. Just like I said.

Now, to your few crude people out of the millions of wonderful ones, copying is not nice, not acceptable, it is plain crap like that which was piling up at the fictional house. So don't. Thank you.

To find out more about (Fiction) Friday so you can join in the fun, click here! Everyone's brain needs to just free write it is, well, freeing.And what if five or six minutes out of your day if it 'frees you' from the drudgery around you for a few minutes. Why it may actually make a difference in how your day goes. Besides it will link you to all kinds of stories and poems based on the same first line and we don't all think alike, so it is no telling what you will find. I'm going to read them myself.

Of course, you could, first, quickly read about the woman who spends one hour and eighteen minutes cleaning men's floors, here!

Poetry Thursday - Prayers Unheard?

2007-06-20T14:43:00.000-07:00

Poetry Thursday, vacationing, left us to our own devices. One of my favorite prompts in the short time I have participated was to use a random line from another poet's work, with permission, of course. Well, this time, I chose the line, and, well, begged Chris to use it here. So, once you've read this and stopped by his site, stop by Poetry Thursday and grab a link to the other awesome poets and discover what was in their minds this week.

Thanks to Chris @ Tears Shed On Paper, Clockwork Chris Returns for allowing me to use a line from his poem, Pillow, in mine, written because I fell in love with this line of his:

"An angel's suffocating tear. . . "

Prayers Unheard?

An angel's suffocating tear
shed because you did not hear
the words whispered in the breeze
as you got up from bended knees:

Who will brush back your hair
or absorb the quiet words you bare
when you helmet one and choke the other
to turn your back to yet another?

An angel's suffocating tear
shed because you did not hear
the words whispered in the breeze
as you got up from bended knees

MeeAugraphie
06/20/07

Chris often comes up with interesting lines and writes of life, as it is, hard and soft. Don't take the long way to his words, click on his line to get to his poem. While you are there, he has taken the time to publish many of his words in book form. Check them out.

My words are not for copying. And since Chris' words are in this one as well, permission would need to come from both of us to reuse! Links, however are fine.

3WW - Cheek Turns

2007-06-20T10:40:00.000-07:00

Bone, of If You Read Only One Blog This Year, chose three perfect words for his Three Word Wednesday prompt (or challenge, depending on your mood, I suppose):

REACH -- HEAVILY -- CHEEK

I reach
with balled fist
but my arms drop
heavily
to my side
as my mind flashes
words heard once
(or twice)
Turn the other cheek.

"Why?" I cry out
instead
(in an attempt
at calm)

but words replied
cancel those
that flashed --
My fist turned
the other cheek.

MeeAugraphie
06/20/07

I took great delight in the words above, must be the devilishness in me; certainly just the adjective, however, not the noun or direct object or whatever. Make sure you click on the link at the top. Creative people love to play 3WW, you will be surprised at what you find.

These words are not meant to be copied, but left here, in my world. Links are fine, however. Thank you.

Haiku - (Wild)flowers

2007-06-19T07:37:00.000-07:00

One Deep Breath gave us a wonderful prompt today, perfect for Haiku, with enough leeway to experiment or just write from the heart or the eye. Make sure you click the link and follow it to the wonderful poets who participate each week. You will find a Haiku among them that will speak to you. I'm on my way to read with you. (Even if you are not a poetry lover, many of us post beautiful photos with our Haiku. My photos are not accessible for a while, but theirs are.)

(Wild)flowers

Hibiscus tucked right
eyes instinctively brighten
young woman on prowl

~~~

Cross country move finds
seagulls and pink hibiscus
memories from home

~~~

Daisies reach skyward
on barren stretch of highway
afternoon delight

~~~

MeeAugraphie
06/19/07

To those very few who stumble on this for stealing content purposes (not the rest of you!):
Oh yes, they will know you copied these -- for they are only formed with little sustenance, so don't. It doesn't become you and it is not right.

Unconscious Mutterings - Director Blues

2007-06-17T18:14:00.000-07:00

Unconscious Mutterings has posted another interesting list for us to do free associations with. Why not join in. I'm sure your brain is working a bit better than mine seems to be. . . Some days I wonder why on earth I think of such drivel. Her prompt word followed by my mind's first reaction follows. Why not play along each week? Click on her link and play along.

Riding :: bicycles
Actress :: actor
Flowers :: for me?
Making :: tracks
Robot :: envy
Enjoy :: me
Identify :: this
22 :: feet
Busy :: man
Forward :: this

Now, on to my personal fun. Each week I use the twenty words from the free association in the same order she offered them and attempt to write a poem (of sorts), sometimes changing tenses. Why, you may ask? Why not? I look forward to trying it each week. Just think of it as brain exercises done in public.

Director Blues

Riding bicycles
one actress, one actor
robes threaten to tangle
in chains scrubbed clean of grease
What was wardrobe thinking?

Flowers for me?
A young lover asked
just moments before
on stage, now making tracks
to get outside
before she looses her lunch.

Robot envy is what
we tagged the stiff
performance
given every night.

Enjoy me behind the
unused flats the diva
whispered in the director's
now deaf ear.

Can you identify this
body the detective asked
the widower on stage
as he pulled his sleeve to read
the words he'd failed to learn.

22 feet of eleven children
tapped their way across the stage
one turning left, one right,
one refusing to take another step.

One busy day
of Murphy's Law on stage
where we find
one lone man
who had cast it all
leaning forward in his seat

wondering if
this
was the day
he should maybe call it quits.

MeeAugraphie
06/17/07

These words, unintended for copying by others. Links are fine, otherwise, ask first for permission, please. . . Thank you.

To Fathers

2007-06-16T21:21:00.001-07:00

A note to fathers everywhere!

We grow up
we go away,
we don't often
return to play.

Yet in our heads
we repeat that down,
hang by our feet
upside down.

We hold your hand
and eat our peas,
complain about
scraped up knees.

We hug our pillow
take out the trash
dance on your feet
eat your hash.

You're tucked inside
our hearts you see
right down deep
where you should be.

MeeAugraphie
06/16/07

Fathers say not to steal, so keep these words here, where they belong, Thank you.

Domain changed - finally

2007-06-15T10:16:00.000-07:00

It took some help from Chuck (nitecruzr) in the Blogger Help Group, but I now have my own domain. Still on Blogger, but that is fine for this host. Now if the man I asked a question about altering this template would just answer my email from earlier in the week! It was scary for a few days, this blog is special to me. . . I posted my first ever Friday Fiction today, before this site fixed itself. So, for the next week it is here:

http://tumbledwords.blogspot.com/2007/06/friday-fiction-floor-cleaner.html

Yeah, I was in a weird mood when I wrote it. It was fun to write.

Charity Path Visited

2007-06-14T12:46:00.000-07:00

Charity Path Visited

A single
vision
thought
sound

emotions
invoked
in your heart
charity
begins

then

moves
to your brain
to shut down
procrastination
so

giving
can begin

your brain commands
your fingers to work:
on telephone keys
on keyboards

they hold ink
needles
shovels and brooms
money or food

just

one variable
controls
the outcome:

How fast does
your heart shut down
the signal to your brain?
Before it make it all the
way to your fingers?
Or?

MeeAugraphie
06/14/07

This poem was inspired by the first sentence that popped out of my head this morning while writing a post to spotlight Shelly's Share A Square Afghans for Kids with Cancer campaign.

Even if your fingers will not make the move to a crochet hook, just putting a button on your side bar or posting on it might bring those that do flying out of their chair and to their stash of leftovers.

Of course, the real reason to participate in some way is comfort. There is not a writer among us that doesn't understand that word.

If you are hesitating in the least, jump here to read my real attempt at promotion of her idea. Aren't you the least bit curious how my mind would work around that! ? (I think I came across as a drill sergeant rather than a promoter - not that I have natural skills at either.)

I'm not even posting the don't copy notice on this one, because I KNOW anyone reading a post with the word "Charity" in it is NOT one of those people that would.

Script Frenzy - slow progress, interrupted

2007-06-11T22:53:00.000-07:00

We are only at 1400 words or so. We had an idea so the beginning and ending scenes are written in draft form. House got in the way.

Then tonight, my brother, a songwriter/musician, emails with a brilliant idea for a one man stage play for Leon. . . Just the premise, mind you, and the major set piece (not that I have a clue how we would pull that part off). He ends the email with these parting words, "Let the words start flowing, I want to see the play!!!!!" I wanted to say, then write it, but that would take the fun away from us doing it.

So, Leon got so excited by the premise, that I said we could put the other play on hold and write the new one instead. His mind is just churning. . . We have the basic characters thought out, my brother's idea solved scene changes right up front. I solved one little problem already, but I know Leon will end up writing this one mostly himself. . . this is all playing right into my wifely hands. . . I know he is a writer. . . I LOVE BEING RIGHT!

Now the chances of getting either of them to 20,000 words by June 30th is becoming slimmer each day - and I hate to not get that little badge for my blogs -- so, you know what will happen don't you? If it looks like his one man play is not getting enough of his time, I am just going to write most of the first one myself. . . Then we can edit it together.

Someone, please remind me to, as Leon puts it, "back away from the computer". I get so involved I don't look up for hours and my eyes despise me for it. . . I even bought another alarm just to remind me. . . but I forget to set it. . .

Ah, writing, what a way to live. . .

Haiku - One Deep Breath's birthday prompted. . .

2007-06-11T08:42:00.000-07:00

This week is One Deep Breath's one year birthday! I am so lucky to have stumbled on poets online that participated. I procrastinated joining in, but have not regretted joining for a single moment - other than not reading everyone's every week, like I did the first two weeks or so. . . Their prompt was basically to do our own thing, or one from past or. . . or. . . I chose to write new. . . and threw in one quick fib, as well:

Today, I concluded. . .

It is not silence
of mind that most threatens life
but silence of heart

~~~~~

Hidden thanks

Though I cannot see
nature's photosynthesis
I breathe it always

~~~~~

No camera, just my eyes

cows followed fence line
as though I had food to share
I wanted photos

~~~~~

For Susan and Jennifer

happy birthday thoughts
written in mind, out of heart
wireless connection

~~~~~

A nod to their meme (in Fib form)

one
deep
breathless
thought pattern -
One Deep Breath brings out
that within us onto paper.

MeeAugraphie
06/11/07

I hope you found at least one of them thought provoking or warm or worth reading.

Those barely few who like to take without asking, please don't. You have a mind that can create words that fit you and those around you much better than my words will.

Unconscious Mutterings plus fiction

2007-06-10T14:44:00.000-07:00

I have started doing Unconscious Mutterings - Lunaniña's free association meme, but used the resulting twenty words in a poem just to do it. I had it on another blog, but realized it belongs here, with my other short stories and poems. Today, I wrote more of a story than poem. . . actually more of a poem than story, actually, it is just thoughts that poured in my head. . . all fiction, but then, fiction can be so relaxing. . . and it is Sunday. So, I give you, the actual meme answers and the thoughts that Lunaniña's original words provoked:

Acoustic :: guitar
Sanity :: rules
Mambo :: sambo
Session :: music
Hound :: dog
Cat :: ballou
Coward :: me
Trunk :: flies
Hold me :: please
Psychological :: trauma

He strummed his acoustic guitar
absently
much as he had run his thumb
along the ridge of her shoulder
as she laid in his arms the nights before.
His thoughts were on her, they always
returned to her.

"Mambo sambo," was Sara's favorite
dis. . . she would say, "that's just
mambo sambo," the way someone else would
say, "that's just crap ," or
he would say, "that's just hockey puck."

Sitting with her legs curled up beneath
her as read a trashy novel while
he played his session music
was how she spent her Thursday
afternoons.

On Fridays she sang
out in anger her altered version of
Elvis Presley, "You ain't nothing
but a hound,
Dog,
working all the time."

No, she did not stop there, but
compared whoever walked by next
to Cat Ballou, or the Lone Ranger,
or Hanky Panky -- not in her head
or whispered quietly to him,
but out loud in a breathless speech
pattern, in an attempt to gain
attention. Anyone's, at any expense.

If she met him for dinner and he arrived before her
she would slink up to him, put her finger
in the center of his chest,
let her eyes meet his and then slide them down his
whole being,
laugh out loud,
then blurt,
"You coward,
Me trunk,"
mimicking in reverse,
Tarzan's voice.

No, he would reply,
"Me brave,
you drunk."

At which, she would slide her body into his arms
there, in public. . .
and whisper into his chest,
Hold me, please. . .

Psychological trauma?
Witnessed,
repeatedly. . .
by a friend wanting to be more.

MeeAugraphie
06/10/07

Please, no need to copy my words, you can write your own that will suit your personality!

(Yes, Leon is just shaking his head in almost disbelief this stuff comes out of his wife's head. . . but then if I were perfectly normal. . . well, I wouldn't really be me!)

I have decided to move my Unconscious Mutterings meme play and poems to this blog, but am leaving my first attempts where they were. If you are curious what came before this, click.

3WW - Extremes

2007-06-06T09:31:00.000-07:00

I am supposed to be away from the computer, but could not let 3WW escape me. So, I threw this together quickly, no pride in doing it perfectly today, only in the doing. Back to work. (me, not you)

Bone came up with these three awesome words: endless - ought - shadow. Play along here!

Extremes

There ought be sunlight
in your heart to turn endless darkness
into shadow
for you can
- get by -
with the latter
but not with
darkness alone.

There ought to be darkness
in your heart to turn endless brightness
into shadow
for you can
- get by -
with the latter
but will tire with
brightness alone.

MeeAugraphie
06/05/07

Please, do not copy my words, use them to inspire your words instead! Thank you.

Dona Nobis Pacem

2007-06-05T22:02:00.000-07:00

One
can
make a
difference,
our hearts speak that truth
for our minds to make happen

MeeAugraphie
05/05/07

Click on the globe above to visit Mimi Lenox to view the other globes flown for peace. We can make a difference, both in our little world and in our extended world. I believe very strongly that each individual can make a difference. Click here to read my words on peace.

May each one of us make an effort to set an example of peace, to influence those growing up, to remember that peace is as much about accepting differences as anything else.

Please respect my right to my own words and do not copy, thank you.

Haiku - One Poetic Structure

2007-06-05T10:19:00.001-07:00

One Deep Breath's prompt this week is one of my favorites: Architecture.

The link above goes to the listing of those who have written beautiful haiku. Check them out, I will as soon as I stop working. . . sigh. Here's my quick and single attempt:

One Poetic Structure

structure repeated
one plus that which came before
fibs, nature creates

MeeAugraphie
06/05/07

No, don't copy my words, please. . . You have so many inside you waiting to come out.

Regeneration disguised

2007-06-05T09:53:00.000-07:00

It is time
to quiet my mind
from brainstorming
and empathy

to save my fingers
from blisters
earned through
constant contact
with keyboard already
worn down

to protect my wrists
from a possible fate
of carpal tunnel

to stretch the
muscles unused
in recent months

to allow my body
(and mind)
breathing room
from creation

and
return
to
the
mundane.

But
I will
be
back
to check in.

MeeAugraphie
06/05/07

Ok, my way of saying Leon is on vacation this week, we are working on the house, and I want and need to help him. After all, we get laughs in as we go and I am spoiled rotten most of the times. . . Hold it, not rotten, just spoiled in some ways. . . I admit it, but believe me, it is his choice. . . He knows exactly what he is doing. . . he is no dummy. (And besides, he is making me. . . well, trying to, my guilt at being spoiled just enables him to make me. . . Hee hee, it made sense to me because I feel we are all in control of our needs and wants. . So, if you are still with me in this paragraph, I want to help him, I need to be useful around here for a change, and I love the laughs that we WILL get in, if I have to act crazy this week to get them. . .

Y'all enjoy your week, I will use my free time to catch up on what you have written. . . WAIT, it is Tuesday, my Haiku. NO, I have to get Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday in. . . I'll be back. . . I have to take a break sometime and I can eat and think at the same time. . . I'm practiced at it.
I think I will sneak over and look at the prompt.

Now, I know y'all aren't going to copy my words. . . but the few out there that might stumble on this entry and are feeling self-defeating by copying this drivel, well, don't, because it WOULD be self-defeating. . . Thanks.

Plod or plow

2007-06-02T23:25:00.000-07:00

I could plod along
while Headstrong plows
through life.

or

I could bury my head
and remain stagnant
as before.

MeeAugraphie
06/02/07

Yikes, who would want to copy this? So don't, please. Write your own craziness, or just lay in the sun or shade and relax. Thanks.

I promise I will catch up

2007-06-01T23:40:00.001-07:00

Between trying to change things on my blogs and lost in my writing and too many links to follow, I have gotten behind on reading everyone's poems and stories. Then Script Frenzy started today and YES! we got started on our script, Which Way Did It Go?, and we actually have a plan! So, for June I may get behind a tad bit more, especially since Leon is on vacation as of tonight. (And I totally forgot! See what retirement and excessive blogging does.) So, we are going to be really busy working. . . and writing. . . but I will catch up.

Script Frenzy started at midnight! Anniversary can wait

2007-06-01T09:17:00.000-07:00

YES! Leon stopped at our favorite Chinese restaurant on his way home last night just so we would have leftovers for tonight, our anniversary night. No fancy restaurants or walks on the beach tonight to celebrate. Nope! Tonight is our first Script Frenzy session! We are writing a comedy stage play about writing a play. But I think a screen play is next, he is fascinated with time travel.

Look out neighbors, we have conflicting writing styles. . . heehee, but:

Look out world! We are going to pull this off. And it won't be a one hit wonder. . . I know he has it in him and I am going to drag, push, pull, bribe, sweet talk, and contrive to get those well organized words out of him to mix with my tumbled words. . . and make them into plays actors will want to do and audiences will want to see. And as a by product, he won't be breaking his back every day, or using his mind to solve everyone else's problems. I know his dream, he lived part of it (one of the lucky ones) -- and -- I've dared to dream it for him while he concentrated on everyday living. Now, it is his turn to take his dream back, but I am not above shoving it back in his brain if he waivers. That's what I do.

So, if I am quiet and ignoring people for a month, it just might be I am working on the script or attempting to help Leon work on the house. . . but then, we know I can't stay off the blogs entirely!

Love: All of This and More (On our 33rd)

2007-06-01T07:10:00.000-07:00

In a hurry, then skip to the bold words at the end, the true heart of the poem, if not, then by all means, read all. . . it took me all these other thoughts to get there.

Happy 33rd Anniversary, Leon

Love: All of This and More

On a bad day
I crawl into the security
of his pocket

On a great day
I babble into endless ears
that listen

On a sad day
I cry into the shoulder
of empathy

On a laughter day
I alternate playing
clown and primma dona
against his straight man

On a fearful day
I tremble into his
strong arms of protection

On a giving day
I give away what once
was in his pockets

On a selfish day
I demand all and more
as he fulfills those he can

On a self-doubt day
I see my true self
reflected in his eyes

and I rise to be the
reflection I see.

MeeAugraphie
06/01/07
Happy 33rd Anniversary, Leon!

My words are not meant to be copied, whether awesome or mediocre, or plain junk. Thank you for not copying them.

Poetry Thursday - River Songs

2007-05-30T17:58:00.000-07:00

Poetry Thursday's prompt this week: Rivers.
It will be an interesting week for all of us with this subject.
Care to join us?

River Songs

Smooth rocks shine
as sun charges
between branches,
dodging leaves
to bring glimmer
to the damp of the
fallen river tide

Birds sit low,
their voices
silenced by the
weighted sadness
he held onto
between his shoulders
in his heart
dragging behind his feet.

Nature waits impatiently
already primed for
love songs
chorused earlier
as a young couple danced
at the river's edge

Smooth rocks shine
as sun charges
between branches,
dodging leaves
to bring glimmer
to the damp of the
fallen river tide

Birds sit low
their voices
silenced by the weighted
sadness
he held onto
between his fingers
in his toes
falling from his face.

Nature waits patiently
now primed for
practiced silence
chorused earlier
as a woman sat
at the river's edge.

MeeAugraphie
05/30/07

My words are not meant to be copied but to be read and dismissed or read and brought into your heart. . . that is your choice and your right.

3WW - Alley Jump

2007-05-30T08:56:00.000-07:00

I am on a roll, not sure if it is good or bad, but I am having fun. Good old Bone posted three words today: stroke -- summer -- love. I looked at them and panicked. But this popped out of my blonde (with some gray) head. . . and how on earth I came up with this, I will never know, but it felt, for a moment like it was November and NaNoWriMo, I could have kept writing for hours. . . but, luckily for you, I didn't: And it is NOT a poem (obviously) and totally NOT true. I give you:

Alley Jump

This is my story and I'm sticking to it. Part 1

I was sitting in the back of Mac's shop, after hours, the window barely pushed open, with my tape recorder on to capture life in the alley after hours. After all, that is what writers do, isn't it? And I meant to make a name for myself quick! At 57 and then some, I needed to make up for lost time. Mac locked me in and left, told me he had no time for that bull, that he was going home to sleep. He gave me that look he gives me when I am about to do something he thinks is stupid. (You all know that look, I'm not the only one he gives it to.) So, I won't tell you about the other things I overheard in the hours before this. This is the story I like, so this is the one you are going to get. Yeah, it's between a gal and a dude.

"Stop doing stuff like that! I almost had a stroke!"

"Quit being such a wimp, it was just a joke."

"Scaring the heck out of someone in a dark alley is not a joke, Humphrey. I could have really had a heart attack."

"First, stop calling me Humphrey, I am not some stuffy old man that sits in a den filled with mildewed books all day whose skin has turned sallow with age and lack of sun and drink after drink." (He was after all 6' 2", with more muscle than the average man needed, but not so much to look gross.)

"Humphrey."

He ignored her word. "And anyone stupid enough to walk down an alley at this hour, deserves the heart attack, then maybe they would spend the recovery time in the hospital revisiting their brain."

"I had to get home."

"You didn't have to go to the pub anyway. You could have gone to the theatre with me."

"Oh yeah, me, go to the theatre with all the other stuffy old men, Humphrey? No, thanks. And you will notice, no one jumped out at me in this alley, except you, and you are supposed to be my friend."

"Just look over here, Ms. Priss. Here's why they didn't jump out at you."

She walked over to the garbage cans he was pointed at, straining to see in the dim light. She didn't hesitate to move one of the cans to see what was behind them, she was no woos. She had lived on her own for 5 years now.

Her initial reaction was deep bellied laughter. "Did you do this? Is that why your shirt is torn? And your hair so stupid looking?"

"Could you can with the stupid remarks?"

He held his right hand up so she could see it. Knuckles torn and bloody, one finger splayed at an unnatural angle, his wrist swollen.

"Had you gotten here first, it would have been you they jumped, in both senses of the word. Now, I'm hungry, let's go eat. I could use some of your scrambled eggs and toast. . . and maybe a jump, myself."

Hate was left behind in the alley for the cops or a drunk to find. After all, the summer night had just turned to a beautiful summer dawn. So, the first of many stories I've gotten on paper for you to read. Now, when is Mac going to show up and unlock this door. I could use some scrambled eggs and a jump myself, the loving kind.

MeeAugraphie
05/30/07

And please, I know one of you is shaking your head, but don't copy my words without permission. Thank you.

To find Bone and 3WW and the links to the other fun writers playing along, click here!

On Common Ground

2007-05-28T23:27:00.000-07:00

One Deep Breath's Haiku prompt this week is "Common Ground"

Shared leisure

though room to spread out
sheep and cows laze together
example noted

~~~~

Neighbors

twelve and fifty-seven
one six foot styrofoam plane
two pilots compete

~~~~

Comfort Food

one chocolate cake
attacked by two forks at once
two chocolate grins

MeeAugraphie
05/28/07

Please, do not copy my words without permission, Thank you.

Bear with me, please

2007-05-28T12:23:00.000-07:00

When we had our house in Florida I probably tied the record holder for moving furniture from room to room and spot to spot. I also broke any records, I am sure, for changing room functions. I can no longer do that much, because this newer house we are redoing for someone else, not me. So, I have to redo my blogs to satisfy that part of my personality. . . and, as at home, I don't always choose the right time to do it. My play time is up. . . and I have not finished. OOPS.

Have a great day.

No End

2007-05-27T08:57:00.000-07:00

my words are
not

always

good (or bad) or great (or terrible)

nor
will they
always
find a path

(to the center of your understanding)

but they

are

always
direct
from
my
soul

and
(therefore)
will have
no
end

MeeAugraphie
05/ 25/07

Please, do not copy my words, yours are worth more to you than mine,
because
you are your own person.
Thank you.

Self-talk, times two minus one

2007-05-23T13:14:00.000-07:00

Poetry Thursday's prompt this week is awesome! Brent Goodman suggested, "The impossible you: imagined dialogue in poems." Trust me, this once, follow that link, look for the post that they will put up tomorrow with links to all the imaginative conversations the participants came up with. Read them all, there is not a one that won't be interesting, funny, heart warming, sad, or otherwise! I can't wait to read them all. Mine is below - and edited to replace the word their with others to avoid a possible meaning I did not intend.

Self-talk, times two minus one

Answer me!
I beg my inner self.

Silence.

So many one-sided
conversations had come
before
as the result of others being

too busy
too tired
too non-interested to bother
too jealous to share happiness
too sad to go outside shell
too selfish to care

my inner self

had shut down.

Please, please,
I whispered in silent prayer
to my inner self
who was, at the time,
totally in control,

I cannot ask him to
open his heart yet again
(it is but a reminder of his own
one-sided conversations that came
before
as the result of others being

too busy
too tired
too non-interesting to share happiness
too sad to go outside shell
too selfish to care

his inner self

shut down)

If you don't answer me,
who will?

I can't live in silence
I can't give more than I do
he can't live in silence
he can't give more than he does

Do you still love me?
Even though he is the
only
other
that does?

You can't shut me out,
because you are the stronger
(of our two selves)
and if you cannot answer
then
I
know
his
will
not
answer
him
and
I
could
not
can
NOT
accept
that
for
him.

ANSWER ME, DAMMIT!
DO
YOU
STILL
LOVE
ME
?

YES! YES! YES! YES! YES!
Now, stop badgering me, I'm trying to sleep.
And
before
you
ask,

his inner self is sleeping, too.
Stop the freakin' panic.
Now, don't bother me again.

MeeAugraphie
05/23/07

Written in all seriousness and tongue firmly planted somewhere. . . so take my words at your own risk, because the fire in me has been lit! Which translates to, please, do not copy my words without permission! Thanks.

3WW

2007-05-23T08:25:00.000-07:00

If you aren't participating in Bone's Three Word Wednesday, you may want to start! Long or short, poetry or stories, or just a brilliant sentence is all you need to post -- but then you must use the three words he prompts you with.

This week's words are: filthy - guess - convenience. To find other players or to add your link to the group, click here: 3WW.

Wait! Please, read mine first, before you forget in your excitement to play along! Grin!

Elders aside, Convenience or Wisdom?

We guess at what to do next
when filthy words come out of our child's mouth
convenience says slap,
elders say soap
wisdom says what?

MeeAugraphie
05/23/07

~~~

I have no clue where that came from. . . the recesses of my mind, I suppose, but the following is just plain old fact - for me, anyway.

~~~

I suppose

Filthy
is a word
I despise

convenience
is a word
I dislike

I guess it is
just the sound of them
but it could be
their definitions

or it could be
their extended realities,

but for the moment
it is inconvenient
to think it all out.

You could do it for me
if it is convenient,

I suppose.

MeeAugraphie
05/23/07

Words make the world go round, but I don't want to have a go around with you, so please, do not copy my words without permission. . . Thank you!

Haiku - Viewpoint - Empathy View, Multiplied

2007-05-21T22:09:00.000-07:00

One Deep Breath's Haiku prompt this week: Viewpoint

Empathy View, Multiplied

Empathy attracts
your past pain and his sorrow
weigh heavily here

~~~~

Grounds keeper gathered
trampled soil of heavy heart
mixed with fallen tears

~~~~

Your tears flood my heart
finger in dam does not work
floodgates are opened

~~~~

Clouds hurl hard spit balls
at hapless souls walking home
just one more insult

~~~~

Bittersweet breezes
slam headfirst into sun rays
confusion reigns proud

~~~~

MeeAugraphie
05/21/07

Enjoy my words if you can, but please do not copy without permission. Thank you.

Group Project: Source of Inspiration

2007-05-20T22:33:00.000-07:00

As has become the norm, Shelly at This Eclectic Life seems to have an uncanny ability to find interesting bloggers as well as tell great stories. I found Inspiration Bit's group project when Shelly posted her own post for it. Imagine our inspirations turned into an oasis by way of a group project. This is my contribution. (Oops, that is Shelly's word, but it fits. . . )

Inspiration for my writing comes from internal conversation.

When two people speak to one another -- exchange words in the form of thoughts -- they are said to be conversing and it is, for all purposes, an outward conversation that is directed from within by each person. In effect, both parties to the thought exchange are carrying on conversation within themselves which fuels the outer conversations.

Our senses kick start a conversation with ourselves - always. It is how we tune into that conversation that determines if we are inspired enough to bring that conversation out verbally or in writing.

I find it easy to write because I love to talk and I actually enjoy listening. (Notice I did not say to write well or great or fantastic or even horribly.) Basically, I love conversation in any form. I am also helped by being naturally introspective. So, if you speak or write the word mundane or forlorn, internally my mind begins a conversation around that word. If you said mustard or bricks, I would be less apt, unless challenged, because they are not common emotional words for me. But since this is a prompt about something I love, inspiration, while I was writing this I started a conversation unintentionally as soon as I wrote those two words. Basically, I brainstormed. Mustard - family outings, spicy, hot. Immediately I tied them all into emotions, something as basic as getting mustard on a face or a favorite article of clothing could be tied to all kinds of emotional thoughts: always screwing up, not being careful, embarrassment, smiling at mustard on a child's face, a lover wiping the mustard from the edge of her lips, mustard on brand new carpeting when the dog or toddler grabbed it. Mundane became boring: staring at a TV show rather than cleaning house in rebellion, withdrawing from life to stare at the head in the chair in front of you while tuning out all around, dirty beige walls of an office reminding you how much you want to be an artist, painting sides of buildings or giant canvases -- all emotion based.

Yes, it is simply brainstorming, but with a twist, it is pulling emotions into the process, because we all can relate to emotions, no matter what they are wrapped around or in or on top of or beneath or. . .

Inspire my internal conversation with your outward conversation, please! Wait, does that make it a vicious circle? Or a welcome one? Guess it depends if I have time to write or not.

The Life Guide

2007-05-19T12:08:00.000-07:00

The Life Guide

His ideas converted
to the written essence of life
felt much like fraud,
but should have made
harshness stand alone
and charity more than
double or nothing.

MeeAugraphie
05/16/07

Oh my, please don't copy my words without permission. Thank you.

Ethan, a child prodigy

2007-05-18T13:13:00.000-07:00

Now six years old, appearing in concert and on TV, but you have to listen to him play his original composition done at age 5. Yes, YOU MUST take a moment to see a young musician tell a story -- if you are a poet or writer or a lover of children or just a human with feelings. And to further encourage you, if you listen to his explanation at the beginning of what the music is about, and then listen to what he plays, you will witness his success at carving that story out of the piano.

Then if you wish, watch other videos of him playing classical music - by memory.

The child poet via piano. You must click a few times to get to the song; his website is not set up to link directly to the section, but it is only a moment and we are poets, we stop to smell the roses and watch grass growing, right?

Click below, but remember where to click after that before you go if you only have time for one song segment (or just listen to it all):

click on the Repertoire button
click on Ethan's composition
click on The Pine Tree -- (it is the only one so far)

if you listen closely to his explanation of what the song is about --- you can't help but have it go to your heart

http://www.ethansmelodies.com/

Three Word Wednesday - although a day late

2007-05-17T09:28:00.000-07:00

hopefully, not a dollar short. I have thought about participating in this for months, but originally envisioned writing a story around the words, a long story. Shelby writes just a sentence and I always love reading them, so, since I am trying to learn to say more in less, I've decided this is the perfect challenge to do between Haiku and Poetry Thursday. I may post a poem, a thought, or an un-poetic mess .

So, no time but the present! (And thanks to Shelby for leading me to Bone, who posts the challenge.). Join in?

gain -- oblivious -- jewelry

He tried to gain
entrance to her heart
through jewelry, but found
she was oblivious to bling
and sought only a man's soul.

MeeAugraphie
05/17/07

Please, put your words in your own order. Do not use my combination without permission.

Take Four. Print

2007-05-16T13:16:00.000-07:00

Poetry Thursday's prompt was supposed to be "bring in the humor". I've succeeded at humor before and usually react to prompts quite well. . . this time I tossed several attempts. It felt kind of like trying to purposely flirt on demand - just doesn't happen - even with my husband, but if I'm in the mood to flirt - there is no stopping me. (Don't read into that! That was not a behind the scenes read between the lines thing.)

There, guess that will have to be the humor part of this week's prompt, though you may see a bit in what came out today - on demand.

Take Four, Print

New toy,
she shouted out
with glee. . .

(OK, so that is cliche)
Try again, please.

New toy,
she gloated
as she walked on air. . .

(Oops, another cliche)
Try again, please.

New toy,
she cried
overcome with joy. . .

(Not another one)
Try again, PLEASE.

New toy,
New toy,
New toy,
New toy,
want to play?

(and she took my heart in hers)
Yes, please!

MeeAugraphie
05/16/07

Please, do not copy my words without permission. Thank you.

Computer Woe

2007-05-16T09:44:00.000-07:00

Not a poem, though I just wrote one for Tumbled Words on this subject. I appreciate everyone who has stopped by, I will try to catch up on reading all of your poetry in the next few days - for now, I have to be brave and trust my flash drives and take things off my computer - it is so overloaded now; every photo (thousands) disappeared from my iPhoto - they appear to still be hiding in the computer -- but I can't access them. . . so, hold my hand, please, I am going to attempt to delete whatever I can (even my novel) that I have also on Flash Drive, problem is, the only files I can access so far are small files. Time to be brave - or stupid - but I think it is merely the former: Here goes! Will be back later to play -- and learn --.

Haiku - Nurture

2007-05-14T13:39:00.000-07:00

I took this photo at the tulip festival, after dragging my husband to stand so his dark blue jeans made a backdrop for the pink tulip. When I read the nurture prompt, I remembered this photo, somehow my mind associated it with babies gripping their parent's jeans or skirt, something that always feels right.

Nurture is this week's prompt from One Deep Breath.

should grand leaps fall short
hands in ready to protect
small steps encouraged

---

toes lifted from floor
land before the body falls
one small step forward

---

words sung by tone deaf
are music to baby's ears
mom sings lullabies.

-----

and one more:

Nurturing, in reverse

mumbled words from heart
stick figures drawn by child's hand
seek to calm Mom's broken heart

MeeAugraphie
05/14/07

Words put together by me, please do not copy without permission.

Mother's Rock

2007-05-13T09:02:00.000-07:00

Mothers are aided
by all around

except when they are not

then they are everything
and more.

Mother's rock!

MeeAugraphie
05/13/07

Happy Mother's Day to all who rock and all those that help us rock! We do need you who support our efforts -- the love part of our jobs comes easy -- it is the rest that others make so much easier to Rock big with a tad bit of support, and trust me, we all want to Rock big -- so to speak. So, since there is no official mother's helper day, I wish all of you thanks, now!

Please, honor my work, do not "borrow" my words -- without permission. . .

Haiku - Life expose via food, to be continued

2007-05-11T22:11:00.000-07:00

Carrots or carats
the second but a cash crop
to pay for the first.

~~~~

Two men are given
whole wheat bread or cold hard cash,
One rises, the other leaves.

~~~~~

Dandelion tea
sugar coated rose petals
Nature extended.

~~~~~~

Two delicate cups
one tea-stained, one pristine white
birthday cake untouched

~~~~~~~

He holds out his spoon
filled with Cheerios and milk
heart and body feast.

~~~~~~~~

Two spoons, one desert
each tries to feed the other
children taking notes.

~~~~~~~~~

Two donuts inhaled
then hamburger, coke, and fries
afternoon slump comes.

~~~~~~~~~~

OK, I'll stop now
before you're fed powdered milk
instead of whole grain.

MeeAugraphie
05/11/07

Yes, you know the routine, my words, my word order, my thought processes, please do not whisk them onto your floor, you have your own crumbs. Thank you.

(If you do not know our expressions - you may be from a non-English speaking country, the sentence above is just my fun way of saying, please don't copy without permission. Thank you.)

Guilt

2007-05-11T08:52:00.000-07:00

Earlier in the week, since Mom was born May 8, 1921, I did several posts on my other blog on Mom. One was a poem about a phone call. It has the potential to bring tears, so, if you need an excuse to cry, don't mind a tear or two welling, or you are a stoic person and it won't phase you, it is here. (It is a quick read.)

Thirst Quenched

2007-05-09T10:58:00.000-07:00

Poetry Thursday's prompt this week - use their new Randomizer. (You will find it in their middle column.) I chose three words: Woven -- Balm -- Desert. A childhood memory jumped into the middle of my attempt. Yesterday was/would have been Mom's birthday and Dad's birthday is/would have been June 22; sandwiched by their birthdays, my unconscious chose to include one of the few activities we did as a family every summer in Florida. (Yes the photo is out here, unable to scan until I solve a few computer problems.)

Thirst Quenched

Breezes rustling
browned leaves of palm trees
wilted in desert heat
soothe her parched
soul.

Is it not water
that quenches thirst?

Yes.

She carries canteens
woven of life lived,
filled with memories
of Gulf waters tickling
her ankles
and spitting ice water at
her sunburned skin
while
soles (scalded by their trek
to the snow cone man) sink
into playful quicksand.

Welcome tears soothe
salt-filled eyes
as she brings
sweet cherry syrup mixed
with ice to her
lips and braces for brain freeze
in her greediness to drink
in the opposite of heat.

She savors it
- just enough -
for paper cone to break down
to mush.

Thirst quenched repeatedly.

MeeAugraphie
05/09/07

I hope you got something, however small, from my words, but please, do not use them without permission. I'm sure you have your own memories. . . .

Dawn

2007-05-07T21:40:00.000-07:00

One Deep Breath's prompt for the week: Sleep

Photo taken at sunrise through the screen.

Dawn

light penetrates blinds
sleep gives way to restless breaths
dream releases hold.

MeeAugraphie
05/07/07

Please, enjoy my words and photos, but do not share them without asking. Thank you.

Stalled Exploration

2007-05-07T10:41:00.001-07:00

she steps
he stops

she smiles

Ruled by his brain,
he swallows hard
as he struggles
to prevent his heart
from controlling
his facial muscles.

Ruled by her heart,
her eyes threaten to spill
as she struggles
to prevent her heart
from controlling
her tear ducts.

Who will flinch first?

MeeAugraphie
05/07/07

Please do not copy my words without asking, thank you.

Unbidden Reaction

2007-05-04T10:35:00.000-07:00

Parked beneath somber skies
wind rushed
from cracked window
to cracked window
sending my bones
toward rebellion.

My hand reached
between the seats
for the quilt

unbidden by conscious thought

for my mind and heart
were
at war

again.

My heart
needed
to be wrapped in his arms
my mind wanted only
spite.

My soul wanted only to stare
at the somber skies,
to shed tears the sky refused to release.

It was the playful nip on my hand
as it touched the forgotten furry ball
nuzzling beneath the blanket
that brought
mind and heart and soul
to one place.

I wrapped my arms instead
around my dog,
my mind rejected spite.

I stared at the somber sky
rubbed my bleeding hand
and the sky cried
with my soul.

MeeAugraphie
05/04/07

Please respect this poet's rights and do not copy words without permission. Thank you.

Script Frenzy

2007-05-03T15:53:00.000-07:00

Their website is functional. The Cowardly Lion (also known as Chameleon, but the name was taken) and I are signed up to write our first stage play, we have picked a location for our scenes and the first character or two we borrowed from my first NaNoWriMo novel I am in the process of finishing.

Should be interesting, we both are stubborn when we think we are right, we both love detail but he likes structure and my novel was written on the fly, in random order. This time we have to do some pre-planning though -- otherwise he would never agree to go along with my scheme. So, there, you have it. Oh yeah, and we both love to direct, but he has actualy directing experience as well as acting - I only have pouting.

Why not try it, too. What do you have to lose, it is only 20,000 words. How many did you write for NaPoWriMo -- or in emails?

Ocean reflects

2007-05-01T10:59:00.000-07:00

One Deep Breath's prompt: Poetry of the Sea

driftwood abandoned
once lazing on smooth currents
picked up and hurled

~~~

ocean lays in wait
for life momentum to build
worthy crescendo

MeeAugraphie 05/01/07

Poetry is personal, please do not abuse that of others by using without permission. Thank you.

30. Aging, Depersonalized

2007-04-30T22:11:00.000-07:00

Aging, Depersonalized

two
leaves
crumble
side by side
once life hydrated
now coated with other's manure.

MeeAugraphie
04/30/07

This concludes NaPoWriMo 2007. What fun!

How many ways can copyright be spoken? I'm running out. Please, read my words, read into my words, read between the lines, discuss them, but do no copy them. Thank you.

One Day won't make a difference

2007-04-29T21:05:00.000-07:00

but in some hearts.

To Whom It May Concern

2007-04-29T10:26:00.000-07:00

To Whom It May Concern

Confined
within his square box of life
he may go forward
only far enough
to go backward.

If he marches
two steps forward
he must drag
only one back
if he falls
two steps back
he must plod one forward. . .

to remain within
life's square box
and
prevent it
from
stretching
into
a
rectangular
wooden
box
forever.

But cannot he also
dance side to side?
skip around the edges?
circle within?
cross one bridge after another?
march parallel ?
turn to saunter perpendicular. . .
for a while?
push diagonally?
fly horizontally?
climb vertically?

He may go only
two steps forward
and one back
but life requires
two steps back
and only one forward
at times. . .

to remain within
its confines
and
prevent
life's square box
from
stretching
into
a
rectangular
wooden
box
before
it
is
time.

MeeAugraphie
04/29/07

Don't even think about lifting these words, they were written from my heart, one person prompted them, but another immediately came to mind, then realization dawned that many would be there, are there, will be there, at some point. Written in the universal he of old.

29. Hide 'n Seek

2007-04-29T09:34:00.000-07:00

If
we
hide
not
seek

life finds us anyway.

If
we
seek
not
hide

we live that life.

MeeAugraphie
04/29/07

Good morning, please, these words are the result of my labor, do not copy, but if you choose to link, that's great. Thank you.

28. One

2007-04-28T23:27:00.000-07:00

one voice
expels

one word
defines actions

one angst
curtails life movement

one smile
brings heart to mind.

MeeAugraphie
04/28/07

Not meant to be copied, if you wish to share it, please do as a link. Thank you.

27. Only a Suggestion

2007-04-27T15:44:00.000-07:00

Pondered Suggestions

toss
your hair
in wild abandonment
in the face of despair

click
your heals
with determination
in the face of homesickness

throw
your body
across the puddle
in the face of danger

kick
your feet
out from under
in the face of egocentricity

write
your words
with pure heart
in the face of truthfulness.

MeeAugraphie
04/27/07

Please, this poem is not meant to be shared without permission and credit given. A link is fine. Thank you.

26. Life Lemonade, to be continued?

2007-04-26T08:49:00.000-07:00

Make mine unsweetened

No fretting over villanelle
or poetry by guerrilla warfare
but rather squeeze them
. . . into lemonade

and picture me in my old age
more poetic than one old gray mare
I'd rather turn life
. . . into lemonade

in theory I will then become
a "matroness" of laissez faire
and hope they, too, turn
. . . into lemonade.

and require less sweetener
or tiptoed avoidance and care
to turn their lives
. . . into lemonade.

MeeAugraphie
04/26/07

25. Self Imposed Isolation

2007-04-25T21:10:00.000-07:00

Self Imposed Isolation

hurt
dejected
alone

. . . but not.

except

. . . in their own hearts.

has
anyone
not

. . . been there

once

. . . in their own hearts?

MeeAugraphie
04/25/07

Flash Fiction Podcast: Left. . . but to be found

2007-04-25T09:40:00.001-07:00

Note: this is the second flash fiction story I have attempted to write and the first I have spoken. You are witnessing my first attempt at storytelling. Critique if you wish, this is an experiment and I know it is rough, but I also know if I don't put it out there and learn from it - both the good and the bad, I will never get to the level I wish. So, here's your chance to help me learn and to say, "I helped her get started with this."

But if you just want to read, I hope you walk away with something from this: I hope you encourage someone you know to think before they act.

My 1:03 worth (minutes not hours!):

Gabcast! MeeAugraphie - Parenthetical and Otherwise #2 - Lost. . . but left to be found

Young woman with baby makes a hard decision.

24. Brain Games, of I

2007-04-24T09:33:00.000-07:00

Brain Games - in four parts

I
seek
that which
drives anger
but find frustration
as brain clamps down to protect source.

I
try
to see
familiar
shapes through cold dense fog
I see instead life reflected.

I
fight
my mind's
boring deep
into past trauma,
and reach for remote's fast forward.

I
force
life scenes
to pause first
to watch love spread
as sun lights and rain refreshes.

MeeAugraphie
04/24/07

Yo, these are my creations, popped out of my head, so, if you find them inspirational, or see them as drivel, or just plain don't get them, feel free to link to them, but please don't copy them. They are my words in the word order my brain chose to make them. Thanks.

Earth Day Observations

2007-04-23T16:37:00.000-07:00

One Deep Breath's Haiku prompt: Earth Day

bark laid by man's hand
to aid in plant's lazy gulps
forest mimicry
~~~

green tendrils push up
cracked earth gives way to life seed
slow persistence wins
~~~

prized possession there
most wanted hit list out here
English Ivy dance
~~~

discarded branches

stacked and woven as curved berm
recycling brilliance
~~~

MeeAugraphie
04/21/07

These words are mine,
if you wish to share them with someone else,
please,
link to this post
or ask first.
Thank you.

23. Unconstricted

2007-04-23T08:25:00.000-07:00

Silence
begets
thought
begets
understanding
begets
compassion

unlessyourhearthasslammedshutandconstricted

but

you
have
the
key

just
o p e n - y o u r - h e a r t
so
your

head

can
process
the
silence.

MeeAugraphie
04/23/07

You are welcome to link to my words, but please, don't copy them, think for yourself, you can only become better for it. . . and better is a good thing.