How Sweet It Is

Poetry, Day Seven: Flavor


Light Pink Octagon

Light Pink Octagon

Sweetness is a thief

Sneaking across my tongue, lighting a fire in my brain


Sweetness is pink


Sweetness lingers in the air

a cool breeze on a hot day

it is the glitter upon freshly fallen snow

Sweetness is pink






For this week’s challenge, show us something that stands out from the everyday.

This challenge really challenged me- which is a good thing.

Ii spent a lot of time think about the things that stand out from the everyday and what I realize was that the world is full of things that are unique.

That’s when it occured to me, light is rare and unique- from the source to your eye to your brain light is rare, nobody will ever see it the way you do.

I won’t see it shining the same way you do reflected in a painting or against someone’s face or from the Sun or the stars.

So here they are, rare, beautiful, unique-


Photo A.M. Moscoso

Photo A.M. Moscoso

Photo A.M. Moscoso

Photo A.M. Moscoso

Photo A.M. Moscoso

Photo A.M. Moscoso

Photo A.M. Moscoso

Photo A.M. Moscoso


Daily Prompt

Write a new post in response to today’s one-word prompt




I did it!

This month I did a post a day.

That’s 31 Posts.

Yay Me!



Well anyhoo this is what I  accomplished this month:

Vilhelm Hammershoi

Vilhelm Hammershoi

I’ve tried new things like writing Poetry.

Poetry is fun, I’m really glad I don’t know what I’m doing. I was really sad to find out there are rules and I’m not following them- I’m not sad I didn’t follow the rules, I’m just sad there are some.

I’ve also explored artwork- I’ve discovered I really have a love for  Abstract Art   and Impressionist Art. There are rules in that too, but I don’t have to care because I can’t paint. I can barely write legibly and I screw up stick figures. So I just get to admire the art and be inspired by it.

I’ve also discovered some great blogs to read so my bus commute home is fun and I no longer spend the bus ride hoping I’ll get hit by lightening and spared that particular form of drudgery.

Yay on that.



And the biggest take away this month has been that I really do like the sound of my own (writer’s ) voice, no matter what is going on I CAN find the time to write and create and to top it all off we are done with August and I can go into full Halloween Mode.


John Quidor

John Quidor

So the posts will continue on a daily basis- where it goes nobody knows, there are a lot of writing projects to be tried.

But Halloween is going to be a big deal around here and that will color a lot of what I write about.

Just FYI



Out Of The Blue

Poetry, Day Six: Screen

You’re reading these words on a screen. Screens — comforting, addictive, inescapable — are everywhere, especially when we read and write (and blog). Today, write a poem about, against, or in homage to the screens in your life. Or write about some other kind of screen — for example, the one stretched across your window, or the piece of cloth on which movies are projected at the theater.


It chased me in my dreams

it chases me when I wake


              why do you follow me

              into the bathroom?


              why do you care what I eat

                                          what I wear

                                              what I think?

Are you a God?  A Devil? A Demon?

      You judge my harshly Facebook, you frown upon me, scold me

         When I chose to think

             for myself

                   or chose to be



               You ask when I sin

                       when I vote

                           when I’m good

                                      and when I’m bad.

                                          Did I fly a Rainbow flag?

                                             Did  I weep for the kittens

                                                left in a bag, on a road

                                                    all alone

                                                         defenseless in the cold?


                                                 Do you think you


                                 Santa Claus?

My Mom or my Dad?

                                           Because I  know you are not

                           I’m glad you’re not.

  You have

no passion

no Soul


in your cyberbones.


   I wish we could

pull your plug, cut  your cord

 live again






to the very end

of each and every day.


How can we turn you off, turn you away, live for the moment

 without looking down

without looking away.

We can live out of the blue.




without you


Bill Traylor

Bill Traylor

Malvina and The Devil


Daily Prompt

Write a new post in response to today’s one-word prompt:



Malvina  Moray did not meet the Devil on a eerie moonlit night.

Malvina met the Devil just in front of her house just before dusk where she was standing and calling her cat, Prixie.

” Hey there Malvina, ” the Devil said as he strolled up to the gate and said for the hundredth or maybe it was the millionth time ” thought about that offer of mine?” The Devil leaned against the long wooden fence that ran along Malvina Moray’s property. ” It’s a good one. My deal that is. Probably the best I’ve ever offered anyone.”

” Prixie! ” she called ” Time for dinner! Come on Prixie!”

The Devil stomped his foot- which was not a hoof of a foot in a black leather boot. The Devil was wearing dress shoes, of course. ” Look. See it my way Malvina. You’re meaner then a swarm of bees, you ooze malevolence the way other people ooze sweat. Sweet Baby Jesus Malvina, you have a dozen people you killed with your bare hands at the bottom of your well in your backyard. You gotta come and work for me. You’re like a the Captain of My Dream Team.”

” I do just fine on my own.” she said with – oh this made the Devil almost cry, she said this with so much pride it floated up like a black cloud over their heads.

” That’s obvious Malvina. Look. You sign on with me and I can make you the most powerful witch ever.” The Devil looked up searching for what more he could possible offer Malvina that she didn’t have already, ” Well, you’ll have more Power and youth and…”

Prixie wondered up at this point and wrapped her tail around the Devil’s leg and he jumped up and almost on top of the wooden fence when he looked down and saw her.

Prixie was a giant white fluffy cat with a pink collar and she was wearing a cat little wings made from peach taffeta. ” Damn Malvina, you need a black cat.”

” Prixie smothers people in their sleep. She’s up to eight now. That’s one a year. Get one of your cats to top that.”

The Devil dropped to the ground, he fell to his knees, he wrapped his arms around Malvina’s legs and sobbed. ” Please. Please come work for me. If you won’t. I don’t know. Marry me. Malvina, you’re the most perfect creature ever.”

Malvina picked his hands from off her legs and pushed him back. ” Be a Witch? Seriously? Be one of your little minions running around naked in the woods and eating babies by moonlight? Why do all of that when I can go to the beach, eat sushi and caramel apples and  be as evil and wicked as I want and not have to be at your beck and call?”

The Devil sprung up to his feet. ” You can’t freelance forever Malvina. Sooner or later you’ll have to sign on with me.  You have no choice. Not with your track record.”

Malvina picked Prixie up and buried her face in her soft fluffy fur.

” Well. ” she said into the puff of white.

” No. No! Are you kidding me?” The Devil covered his face with  his hands.

” He offered me a better deal. I do what I want and I don’t make deals with you. He said that would tick you off. Plus. he said it’d be a laugh. And do you know what? It really is.”


Malvina Moray did not meet and beat the Devil on a dark and spooky moonlit night- she meant him in her front yard- and her cat Prixie was with her.


Katayama Bokuyo,

Katayama Bokuyo,


Think Happy Thoughts (or) I Get It Wrong Again

Poetry, Day Five: Imperfect

We find faults in ourselves, in others, and in the world around us all the time. Today, write a poem about the imperfect nature of someone or something, whether you accept these imperfections or complain about them, try to fix them or celebrate them.


I want to be a Nightmare and fly from head to head

I want to be the night terror where you fall and wake up dead.

I want to be the vision that makes you scream and cry.

I don’t want to be the kind of dream that makes you smile.


The Fall of Summer


Bye Bye Summer
Bye to your angry bees, smelly bus commuters and cold tasteless food

Bye Bye Summer
Bye to your angry Sun, stale warm air
And burning trees.

Bye Bye Summer
You brutal heartless fiend
It’s our turn now.


Photo A.M. Moscoso