The heart quietly breaks, then comes roaring back for more
Wednesday, December 14, 2011
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
Sledgehammer Contest entry
"So what's going on up there?"
Winston looked up, brushing a giant floppy ear out of his line of vision. He bent down again and pressed his face against the eyepiece of my ancient telescope. The words "star buddy" were printed in futuristic-looking white letters on the side. I had begged my mom for a solid two months for it, hoping it would unlock the mysteries of the cosmos. After two weeks of trying vainly to discern even one of Saturn's rings I ended up pointing it almost exclusively in my neighbor's window. I wasn't spying, exactly. He just got better channels than we did. Naked channels.
I wasn't quite sure why I still had the telescope all these years later, but I supposed it was the perfect thing for this moment at least, when so many things hung in the balance and information was the only thing that would save us. I edged a little closer to Winston and attempted to take in the spectacle with my pathetically nearsighted eyes. All I could make out was a greyish blur. That and the half-mile of highway stretched in front of our apartment balcony. Aside from an old Chevrolet that'd been broken down there since the day it happened, the stretch of road ahead of us was comically empty. I expected tumbleweeds to roll by any day now.
Winston grunted and scratched his furry head. I didn't ask about the bunny costume anymore. He'd come home wearing it the day he got fired from the Cottontail Falls Water Park and, from the smell of things, hadn't taken it off since. I figured he was just traumatized. First, getting fired from the one place he had ever fit in (he told me once he just felt more comfortable surrounded by bunnies) and then...the event.
Though really I guess I can't even call what happened an event. It was a series of tiny little nothings, things we didn't even notice at first until they all added up to something bigger. One day the cable was just out, then we couldn't seem to get any signal on our cell phones. Little by little, things just stopped working. I guess neither one of us wanted to make a big deal out of it, though I know I started to freak out a bit when the power began to fail. These days we were lucky to get five solid minutes of electric light, though without TV, radio, video games or phones there wasn't much point. We weren't big readers. Now our only pastime was peering into the star buddy and trying to figure out what the hell had happened.
I missed the air conditioning though. Mid-August in Phoenix is not a great time to be without it, in fact I was beginning to worry that the heat might have killed some of our neighbors. I hadn't seen anyone but Winston in days and a strange but unmistakeable odor was beginning to waft a little too close to our balcony for comfort.
I cleared my throat. "So what do you see?" I asked him.
Winston wiped away a bead of sweat from the eyepiece and leaned over it again. "Well, you're never gonna believe this", he said.
My ears pricked up. "What is it? Is the Army coming? National Guard? Red Cross? Somebody?" My mind slid to the last can of tuna I had hidden away for just this kind of momentous occasion.
Winston snorted. "Nah, nothing like that. But it looks like somebody finally moved into the capitol. Here, take a look."
I leaned over and pressed against the eyepiece, hoping for something, anything. I realized I was staring at the capitol flagpole. Once the home of our proud state's flag, the pole now held another, a dirty white banner emblazoned with words it took me only a moment to make out. I read them aloud.
"It says 'we're screwed'." I took a step back and looked up, panic beginning to rise in my chest.
Winston crossed one furry leg over the other and spent a long moment thoughtfully stroking an ear. Then he chuckled.
"Yup. It looks like we are."
Prompts:
1. Character: a water park attendant
2. Action: adjusting a telescope
3. Setting: an eerily empty freeway
4. Line: "You're never going to believe this"
Winston looked up, brushing a giant floppy ear out of his line of vision. He bent down again and pressed his face against the eyepiece of my ancient telescope. The words "star buddy" were printed in futuristic-looking white letters on the side. I had begged my mom for a solid two months for it, hoping it would unlock the mysteries of the cosmos. After two weeks of trying vainly to discern even one of Saturn's rings I ended up pointing it almost exclusively in my neighbor's window. I wasn't spying, exactly. He just got better channels than we did. Naked channels.
I wasn't quite sure why I still had the telescope all these years later, but I supposed it was the perfect thing for this moment at least, when so many things hung in the balance and information was the only thing that would save us. I edged a little closer to Winston and attempted to take in the spectacle with my pathetically nearsighted eyes. All I could make out was a greyish blur. That and the half-mile of highway stretched in front of our apartment balcony. Aside from an old Chevrolet that'd been broken down there since the day it happened, the stretch of road ahead of us was comically empty. I expected tumbleweeds to roll by any day now.
Winston grunted and scratched his furry head. I didn't ask about the bunny costume anymore. He'd come home wearing it the day he got fired from the Cottontail Falls Water Park and, from the smell of things, hadn't taken it off since. I figured he was just traumatized. First, getting fired from the one place he had ever fit in (he told me once he just felt more comfortable surrounded by bunnies) and then...the event.
Though really I guess I can't even call what happened an event. It was a series of tiny little nothings, things we didn't even notice at first until they all added up to something bigger. One day the cable was just out, then we couldn't seem to get any signal on our cell phones. Little by little, things just stopped working. I guess neither one of us wanted to make a big deal out of it, though I know I started to freak out a bit when the power began to fail. These days we were lucky to get five solid minutes of electric light, though without TV, radio, video games or phones there wasn't much point. We weren't big readers. Now our only pastime was peering into the star buddy and trying to figure out what the hell had happened.
I missed the air conditioning though. Mid-August in Phoenix is not a great time to be without it, in fact I was beginning to worry that the heat might have killed some of our neighbors. I hadn't seen anyone but Winston in days and a strange but unmistakeable odor was beginning to waft a little too close to our balcony for comfort.
I cleared my throat. "So what do you see?" I asked him.
Winston wiped away a bead of sweat from the eyepiece and leaned over it again. "Well, you're never gonna believe this", he said.
My ears pricked up. "What is it? Is the Army coming? National Guard? Red Cross? Somebody?" My mind slid to the last can of tuna I had hidden away for just this kind of momentous occasion.
Winston snorted. "Nah, nothing like that. But it looks like somebody finally moved into the capitol. Here, take a look."
I leaned over and pressed against the eyepiece, hoping for something, anything. I realized I was staring at the capitol flagpole. Once the home of our proud state's flag, the pole now held another, a dirty white banner emblazoned with words it took me only a moment to make out. I read them aloud.
"It says 'we're screwed'." I took a step back and looked up, panic beginning to rise in my chest.
Winston crossed one furry leg over the other and spent a long moment thoughtfully stroking an ear. Then he chuckled.
"Yup. It looks like we are."
Prompts:
1. Character: a water park attendant
2. Action: adjusting a telescope
3. Setting: an eerily empty freeway
4. Line: "You're never going to believe this"
Monday, May 2, 2011
Language
The camera zoomed in significantly on a pair of yellow gloves on the foyer table. I held the shot for a moment, then panned across the room. Suddenly I realized I wasn't alone.
"Chelsea! What the fuck? You ruined my shot!" I yelped. I removed the camera from the shoulder harness I had crafted out of duct tape and an old belt and set it down on the table. Having a person enter that shot then might actually be a workable idea, but Chelsea's Mickey Mouse t-shirt was hardly true to period. I would have to shoot it again. For her part, Chelsea didn't look all that distraught at having interrupted my genius. She was the picture of a bratty little sister, hands on hips, grumpy scrunched-up face, dirty blonde curly hair pulled into two unruly pigtails. It was clear she would never understand my art.
"Mom says come to dinner, weirdo.", she said.
I nodded. "I'll be there in a minute." I turned to pick up the camera again and redo the shot one more time then stopped. She was still staring at me. "What?", I said.
"You said the F word." she said and flashed a grin. "I'm telling Mom. She's going to take your camera away."
She was right. Mom had been threatening to take my camera for a while now, but I'd always been able to talk her out of it. Even last night, when she found out I had skipped school to see the Hitchcock showcase at the Rialto downtown, I was able to pull her back from the brink by talking up the educational value of film. But Mom didn't mess around with language. Dad told me he said the word 'crap' in front of her once and she didn't speak to him for a week.
I cast about for something, anything I could offer to my sister. "Chel, come on. You don't need to do that. I...I'll put you in my movie. Would you like that?" I raised my eyebrows eagerly, hoping I wasn't being too over-the-top. She still looked skeptical. "...and I'll do the dishes for a week?" I offered. She crossed her arms and her face changed to a smug grin. She had me right where she wanted me, by the giblets. Dammit.
Trapped, I asked the worst question you can ask in a brother-sister negotiation. "Okay Chel. What do you want?"
She smiled triumphantly and stuck out her hand. "Ten bucks."
I exhaled slowly so she wouldn't see my relief. Money was easy. Money I could do. I dug in my pockets and came up with a ball of lint, two quarters and a battered five. I looked up. "Can I owe you?"
Chelsea spun on her heel and left the room. A few moments later I heard. "Mooooommm! Ricky said a swear!"
Well, crap.
Prompt: A pair of yellow gloves
"Chelsea! What the fuck? You ruined my shot!" I yelped. I removed the camera from the shoulder harness I had crafted out of duct tape and an old belt and set it down on the table. Having a person enter that shot then might actually be a workable idea, but Chelsea's Mickey Mouse t-shirt was hardly true to period. I would have to shoot it again. For her part, Chelsea didn't look all that distraught at having interrupted my genius. She was the picture of a bratty little sister, hands on hips, grumpy scrunched-up face, dirty blonde curly hair pulled into two unruly pigtails. It was clear she would never understand my art.
"Mom says come to dinner, weirdo.", she said.
I nodded. "I'll be there in a minute." I turned to pick up the camera again and redo the shot one more time then stopped. She was still staring at me. "What?", I said.
"You said the F word." she said and flashed a grin. "I'm telling Mom. She's going to take your camera away."
She was right. Mom had been threatening to take my camera for a while now, but I'd always been able to talk her out of it. Even last night, when she found out I had skipped school to see the Hitchcock showcase at the Rialto downtown, I was able to pull her back from the brink by talking up the educational value of film. But Mom didn't mess around with language. Dad told me he said the word 'crap' in front of her once and she didn't speak to him for a week.
I cast about for something, anything I could offer to my sister. "Chel, come on. You don't need to do that. I...I'll put you in my movie. Would you like that?" I raised my eyebrows eagerly, hoping I wasn't being too over-the-top. She still looked skeptical. "...and I'll do the dishes for a week?" I offered. She crossed her arms and her face changed to a smug grin. She had me right where she wanted me, by the giblets. Dammit.
Trapped, I asked the worst question you can ask in a brother-sister negotiation. "Okay Chel. What do you want?"
She smiled triumphantly and stuck out her hand. "Ten bucks."
I exhaled slowly so she wouldn't see my relief. Money was easy. Money I could do. I dug in my pockets and came up with a ball of lint, two quarters and a battered five. I looked up. "Can I owe you?"
Chelsea spun on her heel and left the room. A few moments later I heard. "Mooooommm! Ricky said a swear!"
Well, crap.
Prompt: A pair of yellow gloves
Friday, April 22, 2011
Day 22
For Ed P.
Strange kid
With your hands in your pants
Nobody understood you
Not like I did
Or was sure I would
If we ever talked.
You had such pretty eyes
And thick hair I wanted to run my fingers through
But I was biding my time,
Waiting for the difference in our ages to be less creepy.
Only five years
In our teens an eternity
In our twenties only a trifle
In our thirties nothing at all.
I arrived at thirty bursting with life
But you were not so lucky
Your time ended at nineteen.
I hope it was a painless and happy moment
Or that it helped you find peace
Or that your final destination was a room
Filled with other sweet kids
Who didn't fit in
Who couldn't keep their hands out of their pants
Who loved you for your weirdness
Just like me.
Strange kid
With your hands in your pants
Nobody understood you
Not like I did
Or was sure I would
If we ever talked.
You had such pretty eyes
And thick hair I wanted to run my fingers through
But I was biding my time,
Waiting for the difference in our ages to be less creepy.
Only five years
In our teens an eternity
In our twenties only a trifle
In our thirties nothing at all.
I arrived at thirty bursting with life
But you were not so lucky
Your time ended at nineteen.
I hope it was a painless and happy moment
Or that it helped you find peace
Or that your final destination was a room
Filled with other sweet kids
Who didn't fit in
Who couldn't keep their hands out of their pants
Who loved you for your weirdness
Just like me.
Day 21
Then the terrible thing happened
That I, just ten, became the mystery of.
Green trousers and purple velour sleeves
And a refrigerator wrapped in duct tape lying
The places cats won't go. The climbing out onto the banks. The naked man.
What he needed from me I have no idea.
Something offensive: a revolver.
Let silence drill its hole.
Now I am safe in the deep V of a weekday
In the glaring white gap
Sleepily indifferent.
The chill of closed eyelids
In a carousel-sweet dress
How fibrous and incidental it seems.
Someone stands and weeps in the glass telephone theatre
Today, I bring you a special poetry prompt. Poet Danielle Pafunda, who has been posting her NaPoems over at the Bloof Books website, has organized a cento contest. What’s a cento? It’s a poem composed entirely of lines from other poems.
http://www.napomocento.blogspot.com/
http://www.napowrimo.net/2011/04/day-21/
That I, just ten, became the mystery of.
Green trousers and purple velour sleeves
And a refrigerator wrapped in duct tape lying
The places cats won't go. The climbing out onto the banks. The naked man.
What he needed from me I have no idea.
Something offensive: a revolver.
Let silence drill its hole.
Now I am safe in the deep V of a weekday
In the glaring white gap
Sleepily indifferent.
The chill of closed eyelids
In a carousel-sweet dress
How fibrous and incidental it seems.
Someone stands and weeps in the glass telephone theatre
Today, I bring you a special poetry prompt. Poet Danielle Pafunda, who has been posting her NaPoems over at the Bloof Books website, has organized a cento contest. What’s a cento? It’s a poem composed entirely of lines from other poems.
http://www.napomocento.blogspot.com/
http://www.napowrimo.net/2011/04/day-21/
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
Day 19
Two red exes
Through smiling yearbook faces
523 to go.
Today’s challenge is to write a poem inspired by something you’ve overheard. http://www.napowrimo.net/2011/04/day-19/
Heard over my cube wall: "They've both got red exes on them"
Hey, it's almost a haiku!
Through smiling yearbook faces
523 to go.
Today’s challenge is to write a poem inspired by something you’ve overheard. http://www.napowrimo.net/2011/04/day-19/
Heard over my cube wall: "They've both got red exes on them"
Hey, it's almost a haiku!
Day 18
Her blazing red face
The hand-me-down dress, red
Too big on top
Slips down over reddening shoulders
Her wrist a red band
Circled with fire-red carnations
Matching her date's slippery red cummerbund
His ruddy cheeks stretched into a smug, hateful grin
A horseshoe of classmates
Red mouths agape with taunting guffaws
As fury, red, dark and deep
Fills and fills an unseen well
Carefully-painted red fingertips
Curl into a righteous fist
Meet their mark with the force of red rage
Red blood slides down the impostor's upper lip
Our heroine exits, cradling swollen red knuckles.
Today’s prompt is an incantatory color poem. http://www.napowrimo.net/2011/04/day-18/
The hand-me-down dress, red
Too big on top
Slips down over reddening shoulders
Her wrist a red band
Circled with fire-red carnations
Matching her date's slippery red cummerbund
His ruddy cheeks stretched into a smug, hateful grin
A horseshoe of classmates
Red mouths agape with taunting guffaws
As fury, red, dark and deep
Fills and fills an unseen well
Carefully-painted red fingertips
Curl into a righteous fist
Meet their mark with the force of red rage
Red blood slides down the impostor's upper lip
Our heroine exits, cradling swollen red knuckles.
Today’s prompt is an incantatory color poem. http://www.napowrimo.net/2011/04/day-18/
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