Posted in Poetry, short fiction

dilemma 

Always a man, the little boy picked up his trucks. It most certainly was not his decision. He had rather destroy than keep order. Chaos, a game to play. And nothing was squared away that day.

With time, his anger grew
loudly inside
but politely kept at bay. Inner demons kept vigil,
camped around the fire to stay warm.

Years pass. Mornings grow into nights and boys grow into men. He was quite a catch, his father would say. Some girl would come visit to take his heart far away. He would vanish forever, his mother’s greatest fear.

War settled upon the earth. The boy-man set off for a foreign land, leaving behind his loves. His parents and new bride waved goodbye with no answers.

The mind wins over peace and erupts upon a credulous society. Everyone wonders still, what has gone wrong for so many centuries.

Posted in Photography, Poetry, short fiction

Poetry Prompt

A hearty thank you to those who wrote wonderful pieces to go along with the moon photo. And here is another photo to try your creative flair this new day. Or perhaps a short story if not a poem. Please leave a link in the comments if you do write a piece, so I don’t miss your writing.

Thank you and hope you have fun! J

Posted in Photography, Poetry, quotes, short fiction

Portal Vision

Norm 2.0 Thursday 🚪

Stuff your eyes with wonder… Ray Bradbury

The leaves tumbled to form a soft blanket around her worn out feet. She had stopped the lengthy trek into the woods, as she had made many evenings before, to hear the softest of sounds coming from the east.

“Hello?” she managed to ask a feeble question that went unnoticed by anything or anyone, except herself. She continued to mumble her thoughts, losing track of the moon, now turned west and setting, for the hour had come to welcome Pan.

His song grew mesmerizing and cast a glow about her face. The hoofs of his feet took a beat to match her heart. Ivy vines wrapped around her legs and gently lowered her to the ground. She lay silent and watched as a figure grew close, shrouded in cloud, as the fog had grown thick from a cool evening breeze that washed away the heat of the sun’s hour.

“Listen now and I shall follow.” his words he whispered softly to her ear as she dreamed upon the moss and stone. “In the evening I so chose to find a lady to hear my sorrow.” She picked up the largest of the white pearly rock and rubbed it to a mirror. Gazing she noticed her face had softened with heated blush and rouge. With a swipe, her finger licked off the red and she wrote this mystical creature a poem.

Come! o come! Wisp me away
my devilish friend
who comes to stay
in purple passion
and eternal fray.

The sea has brought you wandering
the glen and forest true
to find your maiden
wrapped and warm
with fire in her head.

Come! o come! you hear me say
the years have worn you down
my cheer, not strife
with flute and pipe
the sorrow worn upon a frown.

The oaks are laden with brimming nuts
and food to last our spring
will come and we shall live
in magic harmony,
arm in arm for eternity.

As Pan approached the fairness of her heart, he bent to touch her silken hair, now golden to light time. He grasped her hungrily and the evening’s stars disappeared. The winter of his discontent vanished into spring. And their summer child frolicked gaily upon the streams.

The Pan statue photographed can be found in the woods at Tower Hill Botanic Gardens in Boylston MA. It is quite a lovely place to stir the imagination. Happy writing, J

https://www.bing.com/videos/search?q=god+pan+music&&view=detail&mid=A813A86C1207D8D47D88A813A86C1207D8D47D88&&FORM=VRDGAR

 

 

Posted in short fiction

A short story I wrote – enjoy! (Reblog.)

‘’Have you ever heard of smiley face killers?’’ my friend asked.

‘’Smiley face killers?’’ I asked. ‘’College-aged men who end up dead in the water, with signs of torture? Is this where your journalistic investigations have taken you now, Alice?’’

A short story I wrote – enjoy!

— Read on existentialtableau.wordpress.com/2018/06/27/a-short-story-i-wrote-enjoy/

Posted in Musings, Photography, quotes, Random, short fiction, travel

There must be more… margin release

Indian Rocks Beach FL 2017

That would be me, reading Sebnem Sander’s new book “Ripples on the Pond” published December 4, 2017. Here is my review…

Brought a book along, to read, while on the white sands of the Gulf of Mexico. From Clearwater to Venice, Sebnem travels along, telling stories the waves often whisper and the gulls cry out loud. This book is for those who oft think and find beauty in everything or yearn to live mindfully. Each story has you linger a bit longer, while waiting for a sunset… or perhaps you are the person anticipating the sun rise. A real treat! A fantastic beach read!

I will treasure new stories this whole week, recklessly abandoned to my self… let each tale immerse into me, along with my tequila sunrise. You are a true delight to read Sebnem!

Here is her WordPress blog. Her book is available on Amazon now. Join me on Goodreads as Jeanne Elizabeth.

And to inspire your next write… a little music from Sebnem’s short story “The Typewriter” in memory of Sam Shepard.

(Day Two of White Sands)

Posted in Opinion, Poetry, short fiction, Soul Journal, travel

Sebnem Sanders

Sebnem Sanders is more than Another Blogger. Today I call her friend. And I am beyond elated to send along her debut book link, as posted on her blog.

I am expectantly waiting for my book to arrive as early as tomorrow. The anticipation of holding the pages surreal, knowing all the thoughts are carried from a land far away. I have never traveled outside of America but soon a lovely soul from Turkey arrives at my home.

May all success be yours, Sebnem. I know the toil poured is beyond measure and the layers of life have been neatly laid, page after page. Always Jeanne Elizabeth 🤗❤️👏🏻

Ripples on the Pond

https://sebnemsanders.wordpress.com/2017/12/07/ripples-on-the-pond-

Yes!! 🎈💫👏🏻❤️

Posted in Poetry, short fiction

Black Cloud

From a distance life remains unfocused.  It runs together to form one big massive clot. 

Oh! how double minded
lazily lying
slumbering thoughts
on the horizon.

She had to know what comprised the cloud that danced tragically upon the firmament.  As she approached the acrobatic figure,  she noticed the birds keeping time with the neighbors coming and goings.

Something was amiss.  Realizing her deceased mother had been gone for years, recalling moments with her, most of which were miserable, drew tears.  The black sunk her for days, growing rage and madness within.

A cloud
moves erratically,
up and down
but always forward. 

She chased the black cloud, hoping he would hear her, wondering if he willingly listened, all the while imagining what their encounter would look like when she finally lied down.

 In sync
he led,
she followed.

They met in time.

The open road invited Dave to take a chance.  What did he have to lose?  Rocking in the passenger seat, he watched the terrified girl he had picked up slowly disappear inward.  Her anguished sobs rolled from her soul as thunder in the east and lightening in the west.

Still, Dave believed in the crisp autumn air.  His silent apprehension tried abandoning the war.  He watched the sun rays reflect off the asphalt and relished the warmth filtering in through the windshield, enough to bring a sweat.  He had thoughts of rolling down the windows but she kept him from doing that.   

Ecclesiastes 11:10 So then, banish anxiety from your heart and cast off the troubles of your body, for youth and vigor are meaningless.

 

Posted in Musings, short fiction

All these moons

It was he she wanted more than the others. Not because she loved him with purity but his freshness stirred her senses. Wide-eyed she approached, he didn’t blink. He felt the heat, her purring heart advancing. She stood closer. He felt no flinch. This the match she waited for all these moons.

Posted in Musings, short fiction

Secrets

It was the unanswered questions he fell in love with; the quest never ending.  Buried under colored sheets were tales untold. Secrets. Should he choose what lies behind the green curtain or wait, should he choose the blue?  Certainly red would prove dangerous, his heart too aged and brittle to peer behind that cloth. 

She waited.