Posted in stream of consciousness

Scripted

Is there a word 

Which defines perfectly

How you push me

Beautifully, 

Moving me forward

On words scripted for the stars

Today’s stream of consciousness write, brought to you with background influence of Mogwai’s new album zerozerozero. Also, I made a little stick figure story for you.

Posted in flash fiction

Captivate

She appeared in the music shop window. An enigmatic child before Christmas breathing slow circles of lust across the glass. Day after day she faded in and out, inching closer to the gold plated door handles. Her rats nest hair, highlighted by shimmering grey, and clanging camping pots scared patrons away.

The day she finally slid her dirty fingers across the grand piano keys we knew. Whatever she unleashed, it was beauty the world wouldn’t be ready for. 

People looked on. Phones took video. It wasn’t long before every mind became captivated. 

We haven’t seen her in months now.

PHOTO PROMPT © Anshu Bhojnagarwala

Word Count: 98
For
Friday Fictioneers hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.

Posted in flash fiction

The Art of Dying

There’s a certain beauty to life alone.
A certain finesse to the fine art of dying in no ones arms but your own.
I’ve lost count of the seconds slowly rolling into days.
Those things were never ours anyway.
It’s funny …
The noises your mind will come up with to keep time floating in oceans with little salt.
At first you know it’s just the children in your head playing.
Then you begin to doubt as shadows creep out.
Humans can die from any number of ailments …
A common cold to a lightening strike,
Historic rejection or morbid curiosity,
It’s what makes us the same.
At least that’s what they say.
Maybe I relied too much on silence in those days.

My shadows frolic through the roaring break.
They toss their hands to the wind
And dance the steps to heaven.
I don’t imagine they’ll let me live.


Word Count: 147

A write for
What Pegman Saw. This weeks location is St. Helena island. For more information and rules visit the link. To read more stories click the blue froggy below.

Art of Dying is also a song by George Harrison, not really much in common with this piece but still nice to listen to.

Posted in stream of consciousness

Hypnotized

Free flow Saturday – With schoolwork and my vacation I’ve gotten out of the habit of writing over the past few weeks. I’m trying to get back into it. This seems like the best place to start.

Prompt: Hypnotize (this random word generator doesn’t always come up with good stuff but it pulled through today)

Music: Low & Dirty Three – In The Fishtank 7

I’ve never understood
People at rock shows in towering heels
But I’m mesmerized
By their sultry disregard, reckless abandon.
I think it’s odd
When families talk over dinner
Yet I’m entranced
By their shifting notes in laughter and love.
Once the idea
That I should be my own person,
Capable of a life beyond one envisioned
Of me, for me, in spite of me,
Sent chills through my skin.
Somehow here I exist,
Hypnotized, mesmerized
And I wonder if this
Is what normal feels like?

Posted in stream of consciousness

Cracks (As Beautiful As Before)

I haven’t done an actual timed stream of consciousness write in a bit. Normally I write for 10 minutes but I’m only going to do this one for 5 because it’s our last day in Lisbon and it’s my mom’s birthday!

Music: Reignwolf – shuffle on Spotify – There isn’t much on Spotify so shuffle is really the only way to listen

Word: Pin from the random word generator

It was dead silent, I couldn’t hear a thing
Probably not even a pin drop,
But I heard the years
As they snapped shut.
They melted away
Exposing old bricks
And scarred exteriors
Covered to weather the storms.
All the shiny paint,
The expensive knick knacks,
Expansive fronts I covered
Every fault and piece of distorted past
Under years of specially crafted
Dulled perfectionism
And you, I hoped,
Would still find the cracks as beautiful
As before.

Posted in flash fiction

It Sounds Like Blue

The violinist swayed like smoke. The small crowd followed suit as he laid a spell over them with his dance. The beat of the small drum set vibrated through the ground just enough for the man to keep time along.

He squinted as the bow struck and slid across the strings while the violinists’ fingers moved devilishly quick. The young girl beside him slid a crumpled piece of paper into the palm of his hand.

“It sounds like blue, light not dark, like watching storm clouds or flying towards the stars with wind in your hair. It feels like love.”

music-roomPHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Word Count: 100

Thank you to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields as always for wrangling in Friday Fictioneers.

Posted in stream of consciousness

Material Sounds

Prompt – Song

Music – If These Trees Could Talk – Above the Earth, Below the Sky


In my dreams you’re always singing the song

The music is always right there,

In my bedroom, in my bed, lying next to me it seems

And your voice lays over it, so serene.

Sometimes you don’t sing,

It’s only music then

And we float away to another land.

We can dance the night away,

From the kitchen to the clouds.

We exist above material sounds.

In those moments

I can feel it in my soul,

The music makes me complete

In your arms and your eyes

I get lost every time.

The music tells me it’s ok,

Your song tells me you’re ok,

Whether we’re together in these dreams

Forever or never.

Sometimes I wish I knew the song was for me.

Sweet as it may be,

These aren’t reality after all.

And my mind starts working,

Over thinking,

The way it does,

And we fall.

Just like our song.

Falling, falling.

What will happen when we hit the ground?

Posted in stream of consciousness

Spin Me Away

Sunday! Again and again.

I didn’t do this last Sunday because of family issues (and Easter, we can say Easter) so WordPress is obviously making me pay because …

Prompt – Thwart

Music – Fantastic Negrito – Shuffling on Spotify (seriously, just shuffle, he’s amazing)

Ok, 10 minutes on thwart … here we go …

You thwart me

At every turn, every spin

We practiced this dance

Night on night

But now that we’re here

You look away

Into the eyes of another

Does she feel like me?

You spin me away

Thwarted again.

I can feel the steady heat

Climbing from across the room

Dancers unaware

Of this crumbling routine.

I find the hands of others

But none move just like yours.

Round and round

The circle we go.

Til at last

At each other’s throats we go.

You spin me away

Thwarted again.

I pull strangers close

But their fingers won’t wander

Just like yours.

Slow and steady

Down my back and over my thighs.

I can feel the steady jealousy

Seething from across the room.

Round and round

The circle we go

Til at last …

Bow and begin again.

Posted in stream of consciousness

Bitter Pills

Yet another Sunday, it’s the end of March. What the hell?

Prompt- Swallow

Music: Wooden Shjips – Back To Land

Swallow your pride, it’s a bitter pill but it’s better this way.
Say the things you know will sting, slaps against the grain.
Anything to make you walk away.
Swallow arsenic words, poisonous to all around us.
Implode.
Anything to protect you from the mess I’ve become.
He was right you know,
Selfishness choked me on the way down
And I never deserved you.
Spin me into sweet melodies,
They slide down easier than reality.
Anything to hide the truth of what we’ve done.
Once I tried to take a handful of bitter pills
To forget your name, forget your face,
Forget the way I had you stamped in that place.
I fell down, busted my brain instead.
Now my thoughts leak and blend fact with fiction,
I can’t tell anymore what was real and what was just part of the mission.
All because we tried to swallow little bitter pills,
Is it better this way?
I hear they have a pill to answer
To straighten out our brains.
I don’t know, what do you think?
Maybe seeing stars isn’t a bad thing
If the answer is swallowing our pride
And staying side by side.


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Posted in stream of consciousness

Mnemonic Rhymes With Demonic

It’s Sunday again, stream of consciousness … free flow … there’s got to be a better title out there for this.

Prompt – Mnemonic (ok, wordpress. Ok.)

Music – God Is An Astronaut – The End of the Beginning

Mnemonic rhymes with demonic.

In school we went though a period where our teacher would have us memorize things and recite them in front of the class.

The preamble to the constitution.

Annabel Lee by Edgar Allen Poe

The Road Not Taken …

Everyone always rolled their eyes and groaned about it but I loved it.

For someone who has a bad memory I was really good at memorizing that stuff.

I didn’t use a mnemonic device so to speak.

Rather I memorized the piece in chunks instead of individual words.

In psychology it’s pretty well known that the human mind can only work with so much information at a time.

To maximize what you can remember you can memorize things in blocks

That’s what I did with poetry.

I would give the poems a rhythm as I read them

Then memorize them in chunks, blocks of words set to that rhythm.

It’s how I write now too,

With a rhythm in my head although I know that doesn’t necessarily translate.

I always found it easier to remember things when I set them to music.

On the off chance that I actually studied for something I had to have music playing

That way I could put the information to the music and words in the background.

When I needed to remember them all I had to do was remember the song that had been playing.

Much easier than trying to remember the periodic table alone.

Ironically when I went through a period of not listening to music I have a lot I don’t remember.

I was also drunk a lot.

Mental manipulation.

Mnemonic rhymes with demonic.

My sense of humor probably is not translating just like my poetry rhythms don’t.

I can’t really remember using mnemonic devices otherwise,

Although I know I was taught a couple.

There’s one about your hands and the days in a month

And ….

Yeah.

That’s all I got on those.

10 minutes up (good timing).


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