Tag Archives: writing prompt

Stealing Lines ~NaPoWriMo2020 Day 8

Image by StockSnap from Pixabay

 

You remember too much…

Why hold onto all that?

And I said,

where can I put it down?

It is a heavy load

that doesn’t seem to lighten over time

Though I’ve tried burning it, burying it,

and boxing it away

And anyway,

how do I tell you how I got here without getting trapped in the past?

­

After all

I am alive only by accident

I’ve tried and failed to end the anguish

to end me

more than once

­

Failure has been a constant companion

And somehow

in this land of sadness and shadow

I find myself again,

I am no shadow.

Though there is a shadow

starting at my feet.

I’ve stitched it on

like Wendy did for Peter

but still

under the seams runs the pain

 

~Melanie Thomason

04/08/2020

Stolen Lines honoring these fabulous poets:

Richard Siken “How do I tell you how I got here without getting trapped in the past?”

Anne Carson “You remember too much, my mother said to me recently. Why hold onto all that? And I said, Where can I put it down?” And “Under the seams runs the pain.”

Sylvia Plath “After all I am alive only by accident.” And “I find myself again. I am no shadow Though there is a shadow starting from my feet.”

 

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Jillian

 

For a brief moment, she stared into his eyes, a piercing Robin’s egg blue even in the dim streetlight.  She wondered how it was she found herself holding a switchblade against this man’s jugular vein.  Jillian knew there was no time to hesitate and so she made one quick, deep cut.

She wasn’t a violent person but she did what she had to do under pressure.  After all if one of them was going to die, today was not her day.  She still couldn’t believe she had been so careless as to let this man come so close to doing her harm. Yes, he had appeared gaunt and homeless, but she knew better than to discount anyone.  She had stopped to give him a couple dollars and then walked on without giving any thought to him behind her.   Never gave any thought that he might want rob her or that he might be compelled by lower, baser needs.  His looks had thrown her off but he had proven much more spry and strong than she could have imagined.  Before she knew what was happening he had grabbed her from behind, his arms surrounding her.  She had instinctively stomped on his foot and jerked her head back to bash him in the nose. That had allowed her to get free for a moment but before she could run away he was back on her overpowering her. He was hitting her and ripping at her clothes, making his intentions all too clear.  He hadn’t given up… and Jillian knew now that he was bigger and stronger than her.  As she felt him against her flesh she knew that a weapon was her only chance and so she had pulled the knife from her pocket.  Her friend’s voice echoed in her head “Don’t brandish your knife; only pull it if you intend to use it.”

Now that he was no longer a threat she pulled her tattered clothes around herself and her phone from her pocket and called 911.

~Melanie Thomason

04/08/2020

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Hunger

Hunger

casting her pride aside

she straddled his waist

plunging her blade into him

in one fluid motion

she quickly pryed his ribs apart

to expose his still beating heart

with her energy waning

and no time to waste

she ripped the meat off

in great greedy chunks

with her teeth

social distancing had left her hungry

she was so thankful he had agreed to meet

~Melanie Thomason

03/28/2020

 

 

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March 28, 2020 · 7:52 PM

Charly

Everyone breathed easier at the first signs of spring.  But Charly knew that it would make little difference.  Yes, the winter had been brutal but it was the least of their problems.  It was not the weather that kept her up at night.  The cold they could endure but what would they do when they were found? More importantly how far could she go, what would SHE do?

She had leased this place under a fictitious name but she knew that would only slow the inevitable.  True evil would soon be a Charly’s gate and she had to be ready for it.  There was no one else to fight for them.  Her life was in her own hands.  Everywhere she went she kept an eye out for his distinctive gait.  She knew it was unlikely he would approach her in public, it wasn’t his style, but even so she was diligent.

If it were only her life she might give up, stop running cause he was always one step behind them.   She could feel his breath on her neck.  But Charly couldn’t relax, couldn’t let down her guard because it wasn’t just her life on the line and as long as she was alive she swore she would never let him lay one finger on her babies.

Charly fueled up on coffee in preparation for another sleepless night.  With a heavy sigh, she settled into the chair in front of her kid’s room that she had placed facing the one and only door.  The weight of the shotgun across her lap was reassuring.

 

~Melanie Thomason

03/02/2020

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cherry blossoms

Cherry Trees In Full Bloom (Japan)

 

You tell me you don’t believe in magic.  You say fairies aren’t real.  You say I need to get my head out of the clouds and see reality.  I think you just need to open your eyes…

mother nature dressed

in a cherry blossom frock

ready for the ball

~Melanie Thomason

03/02/2020

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Filed under haibun, haiku, Poetry

Fair Trade

Image by Free-Photos from Pixabay

 

As children we are told tales of monsters

We learn to fear the unknown,

that otherness is bad

and blood is thicker than water

We’re taught that family is the most important thing

and that there is safety in numbers

But any child who has flailed helplessly to escape a brother’s grasp

or purchased sleep with rivers of tears

after enduring a thersitical mother’s ranting

or cried out under the blows from a father’s fists

knows that this is a fantasy

that being alone, that hiding

can sometimes save you

and that sometimes what is known

makes one long for distance

because what’s Out There

isn’t half as scary as home

Sometimes hanging at rope’s end

seems a fair trade for one’s turn at peace

~Melanie Thomason

3/02/2020

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Words Bite

 

I blink my eyes, baffled.

What happened to my sword?

Where have I placed my shield?

I swear my words had bite…

How am I to go into battle unarmed?

“What battle?” you ask

This endless parade of day to day

and on I must fight, so I hoist myself up

from this bog of self-doubt and despair,

my stinking thinking.

I gather my thoughts around me; my smelly armor

fragments

various tangled musings

traces of my soul.

Once whispered

will they shrink and float away

a feather?

Or will the phronesis be found

to see past this illusion

of papery fragility

and use our words

to Fight?!

~Melanie Thomason

2/26/2020

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first flower

the first brave flower

peeks its head out from the snow

promises of Spring

~Melanie Thomason

2/20/2020

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Filed under haiku, Poetry