She Took Poor Edward To Hell

 

Daily Prompt

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

Disagree

 

 

 

I’ve been having a debate with myself-

I tell stories, take pictures and write poems but the one thing I haven’t done is really talk about me- you can see and read the result of my inspiration (S) but not much more then that.

Even when I do open the door and let people catch a glimpse of me, I tell a story about what you see.

I really do enjoy blogs where writers and artists drop posts about their lives and what is going on in them- that is brave and honest.

Does this mean I’m neither brave nor honest in my writing?

I really do struggle with that question.

I’m of two minds, you might say.

Just like Poor Edward Mordake.

Edward Mordrake: Fictional AMERICAN HORROR STORY

Edward Mordake: Fictional Version From American Horror Story

Edward Mordake was said to have had a face on the back of his head- it spoke to him, tormented him, drove him to  suicide.

Sometimes I get how that feels- to have one part of you war with the other part- who will win? Does it matter?

In Edward’s case it did.

In mine I think it keeps my blog- my writing from being fully realized.

I’m not sure I care for that- not one bit.

Do you agree or disagree?

So I’ll just throw it out there- answer of you want:

My blog is about writing and to a lesser degree photography ( I feel my pictures tell their own story, so I don’t consider myself a budding photographer- it’s just another way to write as far as I’m concerned )

Does going off on little essays ( I guess  that is what this is ) add to my blog, to my writing. Or does it distract from it?

Please leave me your thoughts in the comment section- or if you write about it post the link there too. I would really like to learn how other Writers approach this.

Anita Marie

Edward Mordrake From American Horror Story

Edward Mordake From
American Horror Story

 

 

 

Mrs Troxel and Me

Daily Prompt

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

Unfinished

 

Photo A.M. Moscoso

Photo A.M. Moscoso

 

Mrs Troxel has a shovel

leaning against a tree

and every time I pass her house

I think that shovel is for me.

 

Mrs Troxel gardens at night

when the air is bitter and cold

She whistles as she digs and prunes

black trees and bushes with thorns

 

” Come on over and help me ”

She calls from the side of the road

” I have a shovel just for you

and a spot to rest under that tree.”

 

One night I think I’ll stop

and I might just say hello

Because I have an ax in my shed

and I think it’s just for her.

 

 

Look What I Found

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

Bugs? Shrimp? Flowers?

A mixture of all three?

Downtown Seattle

September 27, 2016

 

I Wrote A Love Poem-

 

Artist Unknown

Artist Unknown

I want to make voodoo dolls

and creatures made from bones

I want to wander around cemeteries

guided by a blazing bright Moon

 

I think I’d be good at making Zombies

maybe a vampire or two

but if I could really make a monster

I’d make one

just

like you.

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