Listen to Mother

Beggars and soldiers were all that remained the day Mother Earth gave back.
She raised up her mighty ocean in a tsunamic slap,
to clean the parasites that encrusted her skin.
She cried from the heavens with lightning and hail, and flooded Her suffering skin,
in an effort to heal the filthy mess her children left her in.
A warning to all who won’t heed Nature’s signs or heed Mother Earth’s discipline.
What we ignore now is only a tap, compared to what Mother Earth will bring.

I wanted to include some words of wisdom with my poem.  The following are various quotes that inspired me regarding the state of the earth today, and the state the earth will be in if we don’t start the healing process.

” Humankind has not woven the web of life. We are but one thread within it. Whatever we do to the web, we do to ourselves. All things are bound together. All things connect.”
Chief Seattle

photo by: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chief_Seattle

“The time will soon be here when my grandchild will long for the cry of a loon, the flash of a salmon, the whisper of spruce needles, or the screech of an eagle.  But he will not make friends with any of these creatures and when his heart aches with longing he will curse me.  Have I done all to keep the air fresh?  Have I cared enough about the water?  Have I left the eagle to soar in freedom?  Have I done everything I could to earn my grandchild’s fondness?” Chief Dan George

photo by: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chief_Dan_George

“When we Indians kill meat, we eat it all up. When we dig roots, we make little holes. When we build houses, we make little holes. When we burn grass for grasshoppers, we don’t ruin things. We shake down acorns and pine nuts. We don’t chop down the trees. We only use dead wood. But the white people plow up the ground, pull down the trees, kill everything. … the White people pay no attention. …How can the spirit of the earth like the White man? Everywhere the White man has touched it, it is sore.” Unknown Wintu Woman, 19th Century

photo by: http://www.spartacus.schoolnet.co.uk/WWwintu.htm

June Until November – Five months to Remember

We didn’t say “I love you”.
The time was never right.
And now that I can’t touch you,
I say it every night.

We didn’t lie together
before a roaring fire
and gently love ’til morning
and never, ever tire.

We didn’t bond as soul mates.
We didn’t have the time.
Our souls, though, did touch briefly.
So sweet and so sublime.

We didn’t cry together
in sorrow, love or hate.
There would always be tomorrow.
Now, tomorrow’s name is fate.

We didn’t say “I love you”
when fate reclaimed her prize.
She took you as she gave you,
before my loving eyes.

We didn’t say “I love you”.

Ant Poly and Loony

This is my take on the Flash Friday Fictioneers photo prompt.  Here’s the link so you can see the photo:

http://madisonwoods.wordpress.com/2012/05/23/photo-prompt-for-100-word-flash-fridayfictioneers-31/

“Hey! Antheraea Polyphemus is this a fly through?  hyuck hyuck”

“Luna your name should be loony, you know damn well we don’t have mouths.”

“You need to get over that Poly. I told you when you were a caterpillar to eat yourself out of house and home.  But noooooo, you just kept yammering on and on and bloody on!”

“Well, how was I supposed to know that when I emerged I wouldn’t have a blasted mouth!!!”

“Because Ant Poly, I told you more than once.”

“You know what Loony, caterpillars shouldn’t talk with their mouths full.”

“Enough excuses! Let’s fly.”

Time Mind Warp

What do you think of when you think of time?  You have some time on your hands and your mind starts to warp with questions about time.  Is your free time an asset?  What should you do with your time?  Maybe you’re stuck in a time warp, a condition or process of being displaced from one point to another, but that’s not living.  If you don’t keep track of your time, it feels more like a way of life, than a condition or process.  You feel the need to make appointments with yourself but once you’re at such an appointment, you’re at a loss what to do.  How do you spend quality time with yourself?  What can you do for yourself that would feed your soul, nourish your brain, enhance your self-esteem, and alter your life?

The Web Dictionary defines time as the indefinite continued progress of existence and events in the past, present, and future regarded as a whole.  Continued progress of existence?  Does this mean that time and progress are synonymous?  If you don’t do anything during your appointment with yourself that progresses your life, does that mean you’re wasting time? Are you squandering this most precious of commodities?

Perhaps you need some hard copy; you open the dictionary.  Time: indefinite, unlimited duration in which things are considered as happening  in the past, present or future; every moment there has ever been or ever will be.  Every moment there has ever been or ever will be?  You are becoming intimidated.  You want to sit back and let God take over the behemoth responsibility of spending your time.  The task is starting to defeat the purpose of the appointment with yourself so you read on in the dictionary.  Any financial advisor will tell you, if you’re going to spend as asset you must first understand the value of it.

Time: the specific, usual, or allotted period during which something is done as in baking [baking time, 20 minutes].  Do you need to do something with a specific start and end time, measuring along the way so that you don’t exceed the end time?  You decide that in order to concentrate on the task, you will need someone to keep time, which doesn’t allow for the aloneness the appointment demands.

Time can be a rate of speed as in marching, driving, working etc.  In this version of time the words like quick time, overtime, and double time are often employed so your know nothing you do on this appointment with yourself can involve marching, driving or working because that too would negate the positive benefits.

Webster’s Dictionary states that time is the usual, natural, traditional or appointed moment for something to happen, begin, or end.  In this scenario, if you die, your time would be up; if your were pregnant, you time would come; if it was your turn, it would be your time at bat.  Let’s look at these options individually.  If your time was up God would be there along with the entire heavenly host and everyone who had died before you.  This won’t serve your purpose.  If your time had come, you would be in a hospital room with doctors and nurses, family members, the father of the baby, not to mention the new life in the room.  Being a quinquagenarian, that’s not going to happen.  If it were your time at bat, it would involve a number of other members of the team, officials and parents going postal on the sidelines.  This presents an interesting visual.  The stands of the community baseball field populated with octogenarian parents screaming at each other, the fifty year old players and the Umpire!  Ahem, I digress.

Time can be any one of a series of moments at which the same or nearly the same thing recurs; a repeated occasion.  You don’t mind this definition except you will still need to find the useful activity that, the participating in, doesn’t defeat the purpose of spending time alone, and merits the repeating of.  You press on.

You could be abreast of the times but you’ve always considered people who hold stock in that stuff boobs!  You could be ahead of time, between time or even behind time.  None of these suit because each causes it’s own brand of stress and intimidation.  You could do time, but that is a gigantic waste of life and community resources.  You may decide to do something for the time being but that sounds too much like a cop-out.

What if you were to do something at intervals, now and then, from time to time?  This is too ambiguous because the purpose of this exercise is to allot a specific amount of time to do a specific activity, for yourself.  From time to time just doesn’t cut it.  If you gain time, does that mean that you can add seconds, minutes or even hours to the time devoted to self-improvement?

Once you’ve decided on the elusive activity, should you do it in good time, in no time or just in time?  Time is something that can be lost or made.  If you prefer to think of making time in the slang vernacular, you will have been successful at attracting and having an affair with another person.  This is not the solution because unless you were making time with yourself, there would be another person in the room.

The bottom line is, time after time, as you’re passing the time of day, when you have time on your hands, at this time of your life, choose to research time and learn all you can about the making of it, the spending of it, the value of it.  For time immemorial, time so long past to be vague, beyond legal memory, take a timeout from your pursuits and briefly rest from the doing of the time mind warp.  Employ your own brand of time warp, involving a deck, a drink, a dictionary and a life altering timeout!

Tax and Tithe

Well people, I’m stumped.  I saw a post with a picture of Castle Combe, “the prettiest town in England”.  I’m sure it was a prompt for a writing challenge.  After having written my challenge, I searched for the website to link my story.  For the life of me, I can’t find it.  I looked at 100 WC and Friday Fictioneers, but alas it wasn’t there.  I promise you I am not on cheap drugs, or expensive ones for that matter.  I am going to post the story regardless.  Enjoy it!

     The walk from our fields in the Cotswolds to the Market Cross at Castle Combe was twelve miles.  Father and I had four bundles of wool to carry and he worried that we wouldn’t get a spot on the Buttercross to show our wares.  We always got our asking price on the Buttercross, the only way we’d have anything left after tax and tithe.  As was our custom, we offered a prayer at St. Andrews church, “Sancte Gregore ora pro nobis.”

     Once we left the church father always said, “Damn Sir John Fastolfe! Tax and tithe be damned too!”

Bedtime Story

The flame flickered before and she had stared at it for a few seconds.  She saw nothing unusual so she went back to reading.  This time she distinctly heard a pfft.  She snapped her head around to the candle.  The flame was upright and steady.  She would never finish the book this way so she left the bed and turned on the overhead light.  She did a full inspection of her room; nothing.  She settled back in and just before turning that same page…PFFT.  It was louder this time and continuously flickering.  She looked down at the book and knew.

 Her son had always asked her to read that page again.

Bridge to Heaven

“Look Grandfather!  Two rainbows.”

“Beautiful!  Have I told you of the legend of the Rainbow, grandson?”

“Not yet.”

“Sit by me on this log and we’ll look at it while I tell you.  According to legend, when we die, there is a Bridge we must cross in order to enter Heaven.  At the head of this Bridge waits every animal that we have met during our lifetime. These animals will know us and know how we treated them and the earth while we lived.  They will decide which of us may cross the Bridge and which will be turned away.”

“I’m going to cross that bridge, Grandfather!”

Liberty is Love

LIBERTY for one and all is such a noble sentiment.

The EMPIRE can rise around the globe without impediment.

Yellow haired Gestapo come to take you from your beds.

Apple’s fall, confounding us by landing on our heads.

Enormous strides are gained when we discover electricity.

Liberty, so statuesque, embodies our complicity.

A tower or two of YELLOW gold, testamental  for the EMPIRE.

Quietus the ancient greed, beware our enemy’s desire.

An Apple seed, alas, can only grow an Apple tree.

Enormous hate will not grow love, impossibility.

The YELLOW sun shines every day on everything we do.

Absorb the warmth as God’s own grace deep inside of you!

Two Angels Watching

I recently found 100 Words – Flash Friday Fictioneers blog by Madison Woods thanks to Julia’s Place.  There is a great group of writers responding to her picture prompts.  Thank you Madison and Julia!  Here is my response to last Friday’s prompt:

“Can you hear them, Angel?”

“Yes Angel, they’re dreaming of building their cities on the moon.”

“I don’t like this.  Look what they’ve done to the earth our Father gave them.  They hunt the animals to extinction, they pollute the waters of lake and sea, they fill the life-giving air with smoke.  They do not show respect for each other or the gifts our Father gives them.”

“Remember, our Father is slowing their exploration.  He knows they’re not ready, Angel.”

“Yes but what of free will.  They forget they have souls, Angel!”

“Don’t worry, our Father has a plan for them!”

The Hunt

The island we live on is rich in ancient legends.  We’re going to find out if they’re true.  We are a group of five kids who are desperate for adventure.

We arrived at the cave on the beach looking for treasure.  We all talked at once about what to spend the gold on.  Suddenly Robert shrieked,

“Guys, I found something!”

We rushed to his side and peered into the hole.  It was a box with the letters R.I.P. carved into the top.

“What does R.I.P. mean?” I asked.

Robert pulled up the box, opened it and said,

“Ah darn, it’s just old bones!?”

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