#PicturePoetryPrompt: Gun Control

From North of the border,
I watch my American friends
suffer time and again.
A vicious cycle repeating.

Bullets fired from GUNS
are worth more than
LIVES
I hear again and again.

And yet there’s a growing chorus
Of voices.
Young
Old
Female
Male
Gay
Straight
Black
White.

They scream for CONTROL
United against a bigger threat.
They don’t want to hide
Afraid and alone
from angry people who take their rage
like tidal waves
and crash into innocents.

They want change.
Not to take all the GUNS away
But to restrict the types
Create stiffer rules.
What threat is this
to your freedoms,
My GUN owning friends?

They should be free
to feel SAFE
In a Grocery store
In a School
At a Concert
At a Hospital
At a Synagogue
At a Church

ANYWHERE.

But the NRA has friends
who view CONTROL
as an evil worse than plague
WHICH IT’S NOT.
When did your fellow Americans’ LIVES
come to mean so little?

I see this on my screens
In our papers.
As a Canadian,
I’m thankful for our GUN CONTROL.
I feel SAFE.
If only the change Americans need
would come on swift wings.
I wish you all could feel SAFE
On every day’s journeys.

You see,
I think no man, woman or child
should be afraid to leave their home
for fear of flying bullets
shot from vicious GUNS
hunting them down.

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Wandering Woman

The bridge stood in splendour
Its moss free bricks
Clean and dutifully placed.

A lone woman wandered
through the forest sticks
In sturdy clothes, no lace.

Her light steps unheard
Her cloak left unseen
She approached the wooden gates.

Called to the armoured guard
Whose face was quite mean
Her fate now to wait.

She was shooed to the woods
To travel under her black hood
Taking her magic goods
Elsewhere.

Feverish Dreams

My dreams plague me with vivid realities so farfetched and daunting I’ve no choice, but to run. My feet pound against barren dirt, stirring dust into the air. Despite the burning feel of it, I must push on.
 
Glancing behind me, I see a pack of wolves. Scratch that. They’re much bigger than wolves. Much faster, too. Their snarls echo off the cave walls I’ve been placed in by my overactive imagination. I know it’s not real and yet my heart races.
 
Teeth sink into my calf and I fall forward with a scream. The wet, slickness of blood drips down my leg and sends these unknown creatures into a frenzy. Their bites shred my arms to ribbons.
 
Just when I’m about to pass out, I have been transported to the centre of a storm. No shelter in sight. But of course, I say to myself and will my sleeping self to rouse. It’s of no use.
 
The rain shifts from small drops to heavy bullets, or so it feels. My skin tingles and bruises under the assault. Thankfully my limbs are restored and I can run towards the edge of the clouds. The ground is wet and I slip with each step. Mud grabs my shoe off and I keep running, leaving it to the land. I can see the sun shining beyond the black clouds and I yearn for its serenity.
 
It’s too late, though. Hail the size of watermelons falls from the clouds. Lightning forks, stabbing at my tiny presence on the ground. The thunder sounds like laughter amidst the roar of the storm.
 
For the first time in years, I stop running. I stand in the centre of the chaos and let the storm strike me down. It doesn’t take long. Both hail and lightning hit me and it’s the most painful thing I’ve ever felt.
 
I wake with a shout and feel my head, inspect my pillows for blood. Everything’s wet from my sweating heat and my skin’s red. Upon closer inspection, I see white forks winding under my skin, following my veins.
 
Not again, I think and lapse back into darkness.
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Also, follow me on twitter @KEMwriting !

Anxious Honesty

The voice in my head is telling me I’ve wasted two years on a dream that will never come true. I had a book idea and I ran with it. I didn’t fight hard enough for it though.

More and more, my husband seems to get mad that I’m not working on my book. That I’m not bringing in any money. That I’m just ‘lounging’ around the house.

It doesn’t matter that I clean the house top to bottom by myself. I weed the gardens and mow the lawn and whippersnip, by myself. I feed the cats and dogs day and night by myself. I do the laundry, by myself. I make the appointments for both of us. Keep a running list of things. Try to be the voice of reason more often than not. (I will admit he helps on occasion, but not near enough…)

I wish I was bringing in money. I wish I had fought harder for my book. It feels like the only choice is to abandon it entirely. It’s not what I want, but I always put everyone else ahead of me.

But then that leaves me with a blog and a twitter account that serve no real purpose anymore, right?

So, I’ve applied to part-time jobs in the mean time. I’ve started freelance transcribing again for Rev. I’ve created a Ko-Fi account in hopes of some additional help so that I can keep writing.

I want to keep writing, I really do, but this voice tells me there’s no point anymore. If I was really passionate about it, I’d be somewhere other than editing, right?

Anyways, that’s the end, (I think), of my self-pitying post. I had to say it before it ate me alive though I still think it might.

 

https://ko-fi.com/kemwriting is the link to donate to my creative path. I’m sure after a decent cry, I’ll be up to fighting again…

Very Short Stories, Week 16!!!

Hey, guys! I can’t believe it has been FOUR MONTHS since I started doing the very short stories prompts on Twitter. It has kept me writing and challenged me in new ways.

The best thing I like about the #vss365 is it continually challenges my creativity and my ability to show rather than tell. Sometimes, I don’t deliver what I really want, but most of the time I really enjoy them!

My nephew has gone home and so it is time to settle back into a familiar routine that includes working on my manuscript. I’m prepping somemore tools to really help me get it to that polished level.

Anyways, I’ll keep this short. Here are my very short stories for the week!

 

July 30th

Birds of a feather #flock together, she told her daughter and ruffled her hair. You’ll be fine! I promise.

The daughter nodded and grabbed the familiar hand of her mother, worn with age. They walked down the gravel road of their drive way to wait for the school bus.

 

July 31st

The #Queen of Darkness reigned over nightmares and relished the sounds of screams. Pained wails bounced off the remains of her stone castle that night. The cries mingled with the smell of spilt blood to soothe her soul and she dreamed of red drops in the depths of depravity.

 

August 1st

The #cellar doors were smashed bits, surrounding the poorly lit opening. Its stairs descended into the pitch black with no end in sight. The flashlight shook in her hands but she clicked the light on. Cautious steps took her down the steps. The creaking echoed for miles.

 

August 2nd

#Familiar hands clasped hers, warm and soothing. But she didn’t hear his words. She’d vanished into a funeral in her mind’s eye, surrounded by fragrant flowers and the tears of the mourning. The coffin before her was made of oak, strong and sturdy like her father had been in life.

 

August 3rd

It’s a tough lesson when it comes to #sacrifice, the teacher said. His high school students sat there, bored but silent. Their gaze weighed on his shoulders and he breathed deeply. You see, certain jobs have more risks than others. They require a willingness to give and not get.

 

August 4th

Stars shimmered in the night sky like glitter on a black cloth. The pale face of the moon was absent, waiting rebirth the next night. She moved the telescope slowly, hunting for a different celestial body. Aha! She exclaimed as #Jupiter came into focus. Just beautiful!

 

August 5th

The #Empress stood still and silent, an observer of her husband’s power. Her role was nothing more than to enhance his presence.

She loathed him for it.

Her eyes roamed the army til they spotted her soldier. His attire shone in the light. Memories of his touch tempted her again.

Very Short Stories, Week 15

Good morning, friends! Couple things to share today…

This week, My hubby and I are taking one of our nephews to stay with us. There’ll probably be some Pokemon Go and Harry Potter: Wizards Unite. Swimming, splash pads, day trips. Or maybe a more lazy week with in home reading and crafting. Who knows!

Because of this, I will most likely be absent from my blog and less active on Twitter (if you follow me on there; if not, here’s me! @KEMwriting ). There’s no point trying to guarantee blog posts when I’m going to be focused on having fun and laughs with my nephew!

It also means little editing will be done on my book. I plan on making time for it since the writer’s life for me will eventually mean children of my own. This will be a great way to figure that aspect out more.

While I’m off for a week of joy and adventures, I hope this week is fulfilling for the rest of you! Take care!

Oh, and enjoy my very short stories just below!

 

July 23rd

This is #folly, she cried and barrelled out the open window of the train compartment after her friend. She heard a splash seconds before cold water surrounded her, pulling at her limbs. Unbuttoning her heavy clothes, she sprung to the surface and sought out her friend.

 

July 24th

Such a waste of time, she determined and slammed her laptop closed. What a #joke, thinking I could be a writer. She tossed her USB across the room and left it there like a piece of forgotten trash.

 

Pick me up now, it seemed to say from the floor. We’re not done yet.

 

July 25th

Vivian stepped out of her room and the black dress clung to her body like a wet glove. A hesitant smile played on her lips as she descended the staircase. In front of Damian’s hungry gaze, her cheeks turned scarlet.

 

His kiss was sudden yet she #answered it with passion.

 

July 26th

Give ’em #hell, his dad said and tapped his gloves.

He entered the cage to the roars of the crowd and threw his arms up high with his own shout. Pacing back and forth, he watched his opponent. They approached each other, knocked fists and squared up.

The bell rang.

 

July 27th

What’s your #intent with my son? she asked. Her legs were crossed, hands rested on her knee.

I plan on making him happy til the end of my days, he answered and smiled. He fiddled with the ring box in his pocket.

That settles it then. You have my blessing, she grinned.

 

 

July 28th

Do you get it yet?

I want You gone

Disappear

Vanish

Into a Darkness

only You can

Summon

Tired of cruel whims

that Sabotage my attempts

You’re a bad taste

Lingering

Unwanted

I #renounce You

and Your Tainted Touch

Vilify

Condemn

Your Traitorous ways

 

Goodbye, Reflection

 

 

July 29th

#Stray dogs littered the streets; unwanted and untended. She shook her head at the sight until a wet nose kissed her hand. Smiling, she stroked the ragged pup and it demanded belly rubs. I can’t save them all but I can save this one, she mused and took it home with her.