Reflections Of My Nightmare

Na/GloPoWriMo Day 21: Today’s  challenge write a poem that  incorporates wild, surreal images. Try to play around with writing that doesn’t make formal sense, but which engages all the senses and involves dream-logic.

It was my face, in the mirror looking back at me but it was smiling

and I was not I

could not to yell at it, I could  not to touch it I was

fading away my hand was turning to glass,  it was as light as  a desiccated leaf  and I was empty except for the

coldness that was creeping out of my ears, my eyes my breath all of it turning to frost

in the air but my face in the mirror was flushed, tan and smiling lifting it’s face to the sun in it’s world with a photo shopped smile

but I was not smiling and I thought if I could just move away from that image of me

the fake image of the fake me with the fake smile in the fake world I could feel warm again so I turned around

and there was another me, in another  mirror and it was smiling and I was



Photo A.M. Moscoso

Day Twenty of Na/GloPoWriMo

Write a poem grounded in language as it is spoken – not necessarily the grand, dramatic speech of a monologue or play, but the messy, fractured, slangy way people speak in real life.


I keep my darkness



but sometimes it dreams


what if…and so do I.



I dream of dancing bones

and cats running through graveyards

some of the time, I scream myself awake from that dream,

most of the time,  I don’t.


Sometimes I dream I have bouncy blond hair

and frosty blue eyes and I that I can

flip my IQ  on and off like a light switch

I always, always scream myself awake from that dream.


Sometimes we sit there

me and my darkness and

we wonder why we are so quiet,

in a world that gives you permission

to let your freak flag fly.


Maybe we need to be invited in, like Vampires

maybe- sometimes.

at least, that’s my story for now


I’m sticking to it.

The Happy Homemaker

Today’s Ragtag Daily Prompt is TOOL.  It used to be thought that tools were the province only of humans, but we now know that many animals, particularly birds and mammals use tools.  Do you have a favorite? Share your tool inspired creation with us, and thanks


When I set up my first home

Everyone asked if I wanted stuff for my new place and I said of course!

I was very excited you see, to be setting up my own little place.


I asked for knives.

Lots and lots of knives.

I figure every well ordered home had knives, don’t they?

So I asked for knives

and a knife sharpener

and a first aid kit.

And Band-Aids.

What do you need with so many knives?  Everyone who asked somewhat were puzzled and for some reason they were a little apprehensive too.

” And band-aids, don’t forget the band-aids. I like the ones that look like bacon strips.”

That year I got lots of cool things, I mean my family and friends were super generous.

I Didn’t get any knives though.

Among the fondue pots ( got two of those ) and the Wok and the hot air popcorn popper I did get book about the benefits of meditation and  about a dozen of those cds  that play relaxing music and sounds from nature and I got a dvd of a coral reef and fish- it’s supposed to be soothing the cover says.

But like I said.

Not a single knife.

Thinking back on it, maybe I asked for too much. Maybe this time I’ll just ask for one thing.

Like an axe.

Photo by Tyler Lastovich on



Na/GloPoWriMo Prompt#19:  The challenge is to write an abecedarian poem

Comic By Natalie Dee


Abracadabra I will amaze you

Behold I will dazzle you with

Crafty turns of phrases my

Deft use of the language

Everyone will gasp and shout “Bravo” and then

For your amusement with nothing up my sleeve I shall

Google words and run to Dictionary dot com and I will

Hijack  what I find  and put them down on this page

It will be magic it will be like I did it on purpose and

Just when you think I’m done PRESTO I shall present you with

Kaleidoscope of words, turning like wind chimes caught in the breeze

Lovely sounds that make pictures in the air, diving around your head like a

Murder of of crows

Never before have you seen such magic, such skill,

Over the top with the greatest of ease, I am the writer

Playing magician , playing poet from my magic hat I shall pull out

Quiet thoughts and quiet words that take you to another place that

Raced from my head

Screeched in delight

Try to catch us Anita try to make sense of us

Uh-oh Princess you missed us again it was a

Valiant effort horror writer, butcher of beauty maker of  monster infested dreams

We applauded your effort until we saw you hoist your flag and sail away on your

Xebec  with it’s skeleton crew

Yes I guess this was another fun  mess what fun and then I heard someone scream

Zounderkite you mock us! You don’t play fair!


The Counseled

RDP Thursday – COMPROMISE Create a post  inspired by this word!

Photo by Milly Eaton on

” I don’t like the way you look at me, you know the way you look when you think I’m wrong and you’re right.” he told her as they sat face at their  kitchen island in their brightly lit kitchen .

Their counselor had suggested they have this talk in a place where they had no history of yelling, or throwing things or insulting each other.

The only place they could do that was the kitchen- not because it was filled with bright colors and nice smells they chose it because they never used it and they never used it because they never ate together.

Plus they knew on some level it was probably not a good idea to be together in a room full of sharp and breakable objects.

” Well.” She said after a few minutes after thinking before speaking ( another piece of over priced advice ) ” I hate the way you say mean things to me  when you think I’m wrong and you’re right.”

” I hear you.” came his carefully crafted reply. ” I think that I can say, in this safe place where we’ve agreed to share our feelings, that I hate it when you give me the evil eye when you think you’re right and I’m wrong.”

She reached for her coffee cup- which was full of hot coffee and instead of pulling it towards herself she slid it to her right. ” I don’t think you do. Hear me. Especially when you know I’m right and you are really wrong.”

They were both trying very hard to smile.

The results were not exactly stellar, but lots of teeth were involved.

” I think we are at a place where we have learned- through the hours and hours and hours of  guidance  from our awesome Counselor-  to compromise so that we can have a happy, healthy relationship together, as opposed to happy healthy apart.”

” That’s not an option,  the apart option” she said with feeling. ” I think we can both agree, we are not exactly the easiest people to love, or even the easiest people to sit in the same room with, without you know-  being armed with Tasers or something. You get me. Nobody else does.”

He sighed in agreement and pointed to her cup of coffee and she nodded. She did however keep her eyes on it as he took the cup, helped himself to a sip and didn’t take her eyes off of it until he  put the cup  down again.

” So what should we do?”

” Well. If I could ask for one change, I’d ask you didn’t get so mean when you talk to me. You know, when you think I’m wrong and you’re right.:”

” And to be honest, I truly despise you when you give me that stink eye when you think I’m wrong and you’re right.”

” I’m willing to compromise, no stink eye for no more snark.”

He leaned back and smiled.

” Okay. Let’s do it.  On three we agree to make the changes to ourselves- for each other.” she said with actual enthusiasm. ” I  can feel it, you know? I know I can change myself, I can’t change you but I CAN change myself. I’m really feeling it. We can do this!”

” Happy, healthy together- hell yes!” he shouted with actual joy.

They stood up and met each other at the end of the island and in each of their hands was a boning knife.

She closed her eyes, he opened his mouth.


Photo by Pixabay on

Down At Last She Lies

Na/GloPoWriMo Prompt# 18 : Write an elegy of your own, one in which the abstraction of sadness is communicated not through abstract words, but physical detail. This may not be a “fun” prompt, but loss is one of the most universal and human experiences, and some of the world’s most moving art is an effort to understand and deal with it.

Vilhelm Hammershøi,

On a table next to her bed

three unread books

their spines turned towards the wall

on top of the books is box of Kleenex  stamped with birds and flowers

holding  them down, keeping them from running away, forgotten but not forgotten.


In the kitchen  behind a bag of flour

is a red box full of heart shaped chocolates

tied shut with a wilted silver ribbon

untasted , forgotten but not forgotten


Down in the basement piled inside of plastic crate with a light green lid


behind bags of fertilizer,  rusted file cabinets and children’s bicycles


photograph albums full of smiling people,  sunshine, dogs and cats and Christmas trees