My blog and stories in published anthogies.
https://ellenbest24.wordpress.com/ I procrastinate from my novel by writing on my blog ... go figure. There is micro and flash poem and whimsy a little observation and pieces of me. Please comment if you come.
Remnants of what was.
He knots his fingers and leaves clean stripes in any skin he rubs. Head down, muttering at speed. I am a distance away, my gaze wanders across lined features and the weathered cloth of a twine tied coat. A finger hails a svelt server, monies change hands and doggie bagged food is brought to my wobbly legged table.
He takes his time manouvering the unseen enemies and mine laden traps. Four minutes to walk six foot of the busy pavement. Lunchtime staff moan and gripe as he blocks the path and swallows a moment of the hour of freedom they have. A pensioner’s rhumy eyes spot him. He nods knowingly, pats his arm and dodders on. Martin is oposite me now only one road to cross. Hunched over he scans the tarmackadam road takes an audible breath then runs like his life depends on it. A horn blasts a voice shouts obscenities and he is gone. I will try again tomorrow. With sisterly love and a heavy heart I tip the server and leave.
#MentalHealth #Soldier #Challenge #OurLovelyBrokenMinds
The Monologue of an Old Mirror.
Here she is, that’s righr drag your fingers through your hair that’ill work ... NOT. When will you learn? Four hours is not enough sleep to fix this. Good lord, Don’t! Fancy sticking that back in your mouth. Water on your finger will not be adequate to clean your teeth, and as for that thing, you need a tongue scraper for a start.
No no no not today, please, a bawl once in a while is good for anyone but when you hide behind your hands and silently shudder ... that clouds me, makes me feel unhappy all day.
Today is her special day, I often like to remenice, lots of smiling faces popping in and out, dressed in flowers and rainbows, pouting lips pretty hair, then came the dabbing on rituals, bits of colour from little pots. > sigh < You my lady, were bouncy and twirly, your eyes would reflect the light and it would make my day. Where is she? She is somewhere in there, I know.
Ahh, that old trick try and steam me up with the shower, I will have you know it blurrs the look in, but not out. No wonder you cry, look how hard you scrub it must hurt. That heat cann’t be good for you. Already your skin is raw from the body brush ... are you trying to melt yourself? You must know by now, you can’t.
Come closer let me > sniffffs < ahh that is delicious, that’s it keep doing that. There she is, I knew she was somewhere, I spotted you for a second eyes flashing wearing that smile that reaches the lift of your shoulders.
My lady come back ... let me see the flowers and the rainbows ... please. She won’t, she never does. Maybe, maybe one morning she will. she will look into her self through me and see what others see.
#reflections #Challenges #Monologue
How we meet.
He wriggles, head resting in the crook of my arm. A smile flickers, lashes flutter, his skin soft as butter. A ragged intake of air reverberates making his toes twitch, finger flick and azure eyes open. Now we meet. This moment of recognition is fleeting but perfect, enough to leave an imprint on our souls.
#Cozy #challenge #Birth
Right up my street.
This one is right up my street.
Counting is for mathmaticians accountants and the like.
Me I am a wordy bird who likes to write free, unencumbered by form like the wind to the sea.
Tanka and Haiku, just the thought brings on a cold sweat. “Count the syllables.” Those three words are enough I regret.
So, this challenge is hunky dory,
I can scribble on the page without a second thought for logic or a Triad of syllable and phrase.
Goodbye Dear Friend.
Why? it’s to late to ask, I know it is. Many times I have aked that unanswerable question.
Your passion for life ebbed ... we didn’t spot it. Life trickling away, seeping like gas from a pin prick in a pipe, eyes that must have begged silently to us for help. So subtle the signs must have been.
I see your smile when calling you to mind. You never age, your skin stays uncreaced. All these years and years have past but still your smile lingers, your style remains timeless, makeup immaculate ... as it always was. Our friedship spoilt only by your absence. You left a hole, one never to be filled with laughter, new memories or goodbyes.
My kind of Bliss.
The sun warming my back,
A daisy fighting to bloom through a crack. The cry of a Red Kite an Owl hunting at night and plants budding in spring.
The smile in his eye when I laugh, The heat in my chest when he strums me a riff, a whisp of a touch or a kiss as I pass.Those are my kind of bliss.
When my face nuzzles his beard as I turn in our bed, In the morning, he tells of a sound that woke him: and swears a purring was heard ... “silly we don’t have a cat.”
When he joins me on the floor, behind the jamb of a door; chin in my knees face wet, he strokes my hair,rubs my back as we rock.
The burbling sound of my laughing throat. Being wrapped in my lovers coat, when we make love under the glow of the moon, ignoring grass stains that we glimpse through gaps as we spoon.
These moments are not often, but slip bettween stages of our lives, like butter to bread they keep our love fed; sealed with a hint of a kiss. This too is my kind of bliss.
Every Burglar was once a ‘Virglar.’
:A novice or virgin to the position.
‘Wordlucious’ : the most lucious of volcabulary.
:The book is a masterpiece, is full of expectation, and tantslising wordluciousness. This is first occasion where I have wanted to literally eat the words, clean off the page.
Just Around The Corner There’s a Smile.
Dom, swang his legs as I watched him across the ever nearing screen. “Sit still Dom, you make me dizzy, swinging your legs.” He pushed his face close to the camera until a single bulbus eye covered my screen. “How come you knows everything Gran? have you got xray vision like Super man?” He pressed his mouth open wide into the camera. ” Can you see where Ben pulled my woggly tooth out? Can you Grandma?” He swang his legs faster now. “Well I know you are swinging because the action bobbs your head up and down, so I am afraid I don’t have superpowers at all. Did the tooth fairie leave something for that tooth?” He screws his nose up and scratches his chin. “Fairies are fake Gran, and they don’t leave any money if yer big bruvver pulls it, it has to fall, to get some.” > sighs < “Oh, I haven’t heard that one Dom, any way, tell me, how are you managing with lessons at home?”
Dom shrugs his shoulders. “Sallright, not fun like school though.” His bottom lip wobbles, “Are you missing Scool?” “It, it’s them corners Gran, if people didn’t go round the corners they wouldn’t catch the virus an we could play with our mates, in the platground. Share hugs, buy sweets, and swap licks of lollies ... at School. I won’t get corner virus coz I’m not stupid, I won’t ever go round them.” Dom’s curls flipped up and down his forehead as he punctuated each point with a nod. “That is a thought, I can honestly say I had not considered the corners before.” I stiffle a laugh. “Never mind Dom it will all come out in the wash.” “Only if they wash for the whole of happy birthday Gran, and wear the masks.” “How clever you are to know so much.” “Dad said I would do a better job than Boris, that man that stands by the door and tells us stuff. I might ask Mum to change my name to Boris and then I will be minister.
“Whoops, times up love, I will zoom you on Saturday.” “Bye Gran.”
Dreaming Of A Hallelujah.
Your poetry comforted me
Your songs just wouldn't let me be
And now I can't do anything for you.
I walked to the Chelsea hotel
Saw you there and rang the bell
But they wouldn't let me through to you.
Had you thrown me on the unmade bed
Cried like a boy when I gave you head
You wouldn't have left me would you.
You were religious that I know
your cries of passion told me so
In my dreams you cried oh God
and I came with you.
Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Halleluuuujah .