“X” – eXtinguish the flames #atozchallenge #riots

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Luz last night the hellioned beast raised its ugly head  in NewCago.

The gangs have unleashed their secret weapon.

They circled the opportunity like a predator for months

Fires are burning all over NewCago and there are just too few good people to put them out.

Those who had a job have one no longer.

Most have lost their meager possessions.

Young men are empowered with hatred.

The police are behind their iron clad doors.

Leaders had their speeches prepared in advance.

Hearts have gone AWOL.

…and if I don’t find a way to extinguish these flames,  NewCago will be nothing but ashes.

“Life in NewCago” is a  fictional series. The protagonist, Sam, is trying to restore a city run by gangsters and most of the people helping Sam are dead. There’s not much a single individual can do to put out the flames even if he can’t be killed.

Baltimore, a city that I love dearly, is in a shambles today. Fortunately,  there are community heroes who are trying to calm the heat. May those who care about their  city prevail.

This is a rather sobering post for the letter X. I want to thank the A to Z Challenge coordinators for this month of blogging.

Photography: Baltimore by L. Moon

X

Some bloggers participating in the A to Z Challenge:

1146.
1163.
1172.
1174.
1175.
1177.
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Creature Comforts #poetry #photography #dogs

dusk clouds

Between strong legs

I look beyond the porch

waves of snow hemmed in with ice

once I would have savored cold

challenging the white waves

feeling exuberance of youth

I lay down at his feet

soaking in homey warmth

his knowing reflects in my eyes

together we dream by the fire

whit bw

 

 

Today I needed to be warmed from the inside out. As I share this poem with Poet’s Pantry , I take a look into a friend’s eyes whom I dearly miss.

poets united

 

 

For Ineza #crimea #poetry #ukraine

storms end

Ineza you are now 14

somewhere between child and woman

we wished for you better things

brilliant you were so young

so close to being lost in life’s storm

the answers were so hard at six

he in prison

she buried with her Vodka

you grasped at the life-giving prism

so close to being lost in life’s storm

your home some country’s loot

once beautiful green and blue

trampled under boot

did they ever think of you?

so close to being lost in life’s storm

reach out your hand

before it’s too late

pull her toward safety

do not bring disaster as her fate

she is too close to being lost in life’s storm

Today’s prompt at Poet’s United is foresight / prescience aka a glimpse into the future. Ineza was a student of mine in Crimea. If I could have brought her to my country, I would have for she had already endured too much. I have no desire to look into her future for it too closely is united to Crimea;s fate.

poets united

Love in the river #haiku #photography #Ezrapound

It is our objective at Carpe Diem to distill Ezra Pound’s sorrowful poem: ”The River-Merchant’s Wife” which is a translation of a poem by Li Po (an ancient Chinese poet)

While my hair was still cut straight across my forehead
I played about the front gate, pulling flowers.
You came by on bamboo stilts, playing horse,
You walked about my seat, playing with blue plums.
And we went on living in the village of Chokan:
Two small people, without dislike or suspicion.

At fourteen I married My Lord you.
I never laughed, being bashful.
Lowering my head, I looked at the wall.
Called to, a thousand times, I never looked back.

At fifteen I stopped scowling,
I desired my dust to be mingled with yours
Forever and forever and forever.
Why should I climb the lookout?

At sixteen you departed,
You went into far Ku-to-en, by the river of swirling eddies,
And you have been gone five months.
The monkeys make sorrowful noise overhead.

 


You dragged your feet when you went out.
By the gate now, the moss is grown, the different mosses,
Too deep to clear them away!
The leaves fall early this autumn, in wind.
The paired butterflies are already yellow with August
Over the grass in the West garden;
They hurt me. I grow older.
If you are coming down through the narrows of the river Kiang,
Please let me know beforehand,
And I will come out to meet you
As far as Cho-fo-Sa.
I have chosen to distill Pound’s words using haiku:
the pond
Aged fingers close
grasping the love of my youth
river flows away

Looking Back #haiku #photography #art

Today’s welcome inspiration –> Kyoshi Takahama and  shutting my eyes

me tsumureba wakaki ware ari haru no yoi

shutting my eyes

I find a young me found
in the Spring evening

Look through time’s window

she pours over Tolstoy

hearing him not me

*

Silent I follow

quiet footprints mark my path

traversing life’s way

Thanks to Kristjaan who inspires wonderful haiku. Today is no except. Please go over to his site Chevresfeuilles Carpe Diem and see what I mean

Photographs: “Reading Tolstoy” and “Sandy Path” both these works are copyrighted by the artist (Clare 1981) and the photographer.

Use by permission only  L. Moon 2013

Raping Spring #poetry

The loss of the Idyllic and ideal in a moment … such is Rape

http://cherishwords.files.wordpress.com/2011/01/tulip.jpg

another flower was trampled just the other day

beautiful, young, bright like spring

a temptation to the taker

taunting her

brushing aginst her bloom

smelling her

but not too close

until the right time

when she would …

open her beauty for him

desire his praise

a draught so sweet

he sipped deeply

then tore the petals

threw them away

walking down the pathway

toward the next fresh tulip

Thanks to over at Cherish Words for the beautiful Tulip photograph

Damaged Goods #poetry #flashfiction

Where does life go when it has not hope and no dreams? Too often suicide

It hung limply

collar-bone unnaturally protruded

sockets where lights had beamed

dangled with no spark

fingers that had grasped another’s in trust

Clear notes like fine crystal

hopes of Opera

smoky bars and sleazy dumps

croaking semblance of sound

talent

beauty

dreams

DOA the tag on her toe hung from under a cold  lifeless sheet

Flash Fiction certainly isnt DOA as it is in the capable hands of the host G-Man. Who tho on the road manages 55 words none-the-less

Hidden in the Garden #flashfiction

There they were peeking out from under the green foliage

red against the green so distinct

a little worn but they reminded me of my youth ( laying things here and there)

then your smile joined mine for a moment

your white hair and wrinkles were no disguise for the young heart hidden in the garden

Once again ~ Flash Fiction in 55 words – always a challenge no kinder host will you find in G-Man!

 

For those of you who regularly visit my site please forgive me for being remiss on my blogsite. I am the throws of publishing and along with that am part of the Kindle Book Review team oh and am gathering speed for my thesis so I am swamped to say the least….

Thanks to Rachel Cowen for the photo of the Red Slippers http://www.flickr.com/photos/curlsdiva/6115881833/

When We Were Young #microfiction

going off to war changes youth

We were just kids then though we felt we could change the world

The boys were already leaving in their shiny new blues or greens for another land

giggling as they went

knowing when they returned the letter jacket would be replaced with a band of gold for the girls

Some smiles grew wiser as they opened each new account

Others lost their smiles completely when the horrid news came out

And now the eyes remaining

glisten with a wisdom not all their own

We never knew survival would extract such a precious toll

This great prompt came from Tess Kincaid over at Magpie Tales

Faith & Entropy

Gud skaper noko nytt ved sitt Ord og sin Ande, vi kan ta imot det i tru og få oppleve at han gjer sitt verk med oss. Hans skaparkraft verkar konstuktivt i våre liv og skaper noko som er verdifullt for oss. Naturkreftene verkar nedebrytande, i fylgje entropilova, men Gud er Ånd og det som er født av hans Ande består. Jesu frelsesverk er fullbrakt og fullkome. Han er den siste Adam, som er ifrå himmelen og som for oss har vorte ei livgjevande ånd. Han gjev oss den Heilage Ande frå himmelen av berre nåde. Han gjev oss det evige livet.

rivrvlogr

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Maria Michaela Poetry

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing, doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before. - Edgar Allan Poe

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