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

Um. Thank You?

Na/GloPoWriMo! Day Seven:

Today, we’d like to challenge you to write a poem of gifts and joy.

What would you give yourself, if you could have anything?

What would you give someone else?

Photo A.M. Moscoso

If I could pick just one gift,

something special

my secret wish

I’d give myself a gargoyle

with sharp pointy teeth

I’d give myself a gargoyle

with leathery wings.


If I could give the world

just one special gift

something I loved

something that screams me


I’d send it my gargoyle

with  leathery wings

I’d send it my gargoyle

with sharp pointy teeth

and claws.

Photo A.M Moscoso

Before We Wake

Photo A.M. Moscoso


could be quiet together

silent  together

tell secrets to each other

hide from the outside together


when the Sun is out

looking for bones and flesh to warm

whether you want it to or not.


We could

haunt unmapped roads together

stand at the crossroads with each other

we could

watch the cars race by or crawl by

we could dare them to stop

and offer us a ride

to somewhere

where we could

be quiet together

silent  together

tell secrets to each other

hide from the outside together


when the Sun is out

looking for bones and flesh to warm

whether you want it to or not.


We could walk

we could crawl

we could fly

take our time

to get to where we want

let the shadows of the dying day

hide our faces

and our voices

and our intentions

from the Sun

from curious eyes

that would look better

in a faded moldy  painting or maybe in a jar

hidden on  shelf strangled by cobwebs

in an attic

above a house with a rusty broken swing set-that used to be painted yellow and blue-

that sometimes  swings, all alone,   in the front yard when the air is still and the birds are quiet and the bugs scurry away as fast as they can.


Me and you

we could stay right here

where we are

where the grass is always green and we can

rest in peace

as the saying goes

or we could walk again

we could get up again

we could danse again



could be quiet together

silent  together

tell secrets to each other

hide from the outside together


when the Sun is out

looking for bones and flesh to warm

whether you want it to or not.


Day Three  Na/GloPoWriMo : Today, I’d like to challenge you to similarly write something that involves a story or action that unfolds over an appreciable length of time. Perhaps, as you do, you can focus on imagery, or sound, or emotional content (or all three!)

The Unquiet Family

I am a ghost

my dark eyed grandma is too

I have a ghost dog

and a cat you can see right through.


My Mother dug us

all our graves

and my Uncle buried us deep

they planted a sapling

over our heads

and begged us to keep asleep.


My Dad is not a ghost

my Grandpa isn’t one too

they all live in a  fancy new house

with my Mom, my uncle

and a room

full of children’s toys

that nobody ever goes into.


The neighbors smile and wave hello

when they walk or drive slowly by

and nobody asks what


to the girl, her pets and her dark eyed grandmother

in their old house

the night stars all fell  from a red cloudy sky

and the

Moon turned icy blue.


Day 2 of  Na/GloPoWriMor: Write a poem that resists closure by ending on a question, inviting the reader to continue the process of reading (and, in some ways, writing) the poem even after the poem ends.

My Little Kite

” I want to sail free, like a kite” she cried  in ecstasy

from the bridge



up into the clear blue  sky

of someone else’s  Spring

which had come  to her surprise

late in her Winter.


Winter agreed

who joined her on the bridge



And Winter came to her

as it will always has for us all

in the form of a woman

dressed in black

and Winter roared

in ecstasy

as she pushed her off of the bridge



to the gray, cold water  below,

” Fly my little kite. Soar. “

RDP Saturday: KITE

The Shroud

What if

I told you

that these people, in this picture

and that these cars, in this picture

still drive down this street

still walk down this street

and stand on the corners

they still wait at the bus stop

and run through the lights

at the same time

the picture was taken

every single day

and that if you are there

at the same time

that these people and the cars and that split second before the train came through

and the picture was snapped

90 years ago

They will know

you’re there

and they will hear you breathe


they will smell your fear

carried to them

on a wave they can almost feel

a dark mist

they can almost see

the death shroud named here



RDP Tuesday: haze