How dare you take away my words
I sang of sorrow
Wrote poetry bleak
And danced with my shadow
Alone in the dark

I wished on bright pinpoints
Solitary stationary souls
Sending beacons of light
Toward an apathetic earth
Cold in its heart

I embraced the chill air
Eternally sentenced
To celebrating the sadness
And the trials of the pessimist
Having lost all hope

Then you wet down the canvas
Began again with bright colors
Brushstrokes laughing and playing
Connecting with my heart
Bringing smiles to my eyes

Art without pain is mediocrity
As I sing of joy
Write poetry insipid
And daydream of us dancing
Together in the light
I know my muse has left me
Nauseous
For another desolate heart

Lisa
03/20/07

Flea Market

It was a sweaty Sunday. Consumers such as myself had skipped church to attend the flea market in denims and polyester and cottons. On the look for good buys (cheaper than the evangelist's God), men and women held onto their children's hands as they made their way past booths in which merchants settled in lawn chairs before tiny, inaudible fans; others leaned against rough, wooden posts, occasionally moussing their hair back with sweat, mostly staring out at customers, hungrily. "You like X-Men? We'll have more next week, you know. If you just c— Well, I really wanted a dollar for this particular comic. How's this — you can take both of these for a buck fifty." I left my friends to bargain and moved down the row.

I was surprised to see a display of animals. Rabbits piled in cage corners, expanding as bellows. Heavy breaths. The birds displayed nervous tics as they bounced within steel walls. Guinea pigs hung on cage bars, attempting to climb. A ferret stood as a silent soft sculpture. A curly-haired woman stood in a tank-top and shorts toward the shaded back of the booth. She perspired, but she wasn't wearing fur as her charges were. I checked price signs. I couldn't afford a break-out (and the pet psychologist when it was all over). I sighed.

A family came upon the animals. The children skipped, excited. "It's a ferret," the father explained. The mother bent down and opened the cage. She murmured consoling words. The owner looked bored. The mother scooped the animal up from behind with her left hand. This startled the ferret and he sprung for her right. He clamped his teeth down hard and refused to let go — with shaking, with encouragement from the teary-eyed mother, with screams from the children, with the passing crowds, with apologies from the curly-haired woman.

Pages: 1 · 2

I am addicted to beauty

I inhale my surroundings

The colors, the shapes, the angles, the textures

The natural and unnatural sounds

The scents and odors

The creatures and the people

I am high on all I experience

dogwood blossoms before a brick wall

Lisa
03/19/07

Flying Dream

I dreamed I flew across the sky
I never felt so free
Then I saw my featherless arms
I never felt so frightened
Then I remembered
I had been shot from a cannon
I fell into the safety net
I never felt so relieved

For more short, short writing check out my group on Facebook: Short Short Writing Challenges.

Every Monday, I present a short short writing challenge and contribute at least one piece of short short writing per week. It's a nice way to write regularly without it taking up too much time, because everything is short! ;-) Come join the challenge.

I have created some Oops products including drinking mugs, magnets, and keychains. I plan to add more "Oops themed" products later this week.

oops keychain
The Oops products are posted on my Zazzle gallery at: http://www.zazzle.com/lisajparker*

Click the icon below to check out other Zazzle products:

In association with Zazzle.com

<< 1 ... 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 ... 52 >>

August 2017
Sun Mon Tue Wed Thu Fri Sat
 << <   > >>
    1 2 3 4 5
6 7 8 9 10 11 12
13 14 15 16 17 18 19
20 21 22 23 24 25 26
27 28 29 30 31    
Lisa J. Parker's writing and creative works including poems, books, short stories, essays, movies, greeting graphics, and photographs.

Search

XML Feeds

blog software