Aesthetic

Composed 3/28/16
Description: I (tried to) paint my nails today. For the Daily Prompt: Frivolous.

Hours pass by in focused activity
In an activity that should pass in minutes
Intensity about aesthetic and quality demands
Experimentation then
Objective horror

Swift eraser proceeds though
Stubbornness is by definition unyielding
Thus
A compromising course of action is reached
Brief victory achieved despite
Intermittent frustration and exasperation

Hours again pass in caution to not undo the deed
Indeed, this very piece is constructed with tedious care and restraint
For the mission of productivity?
Alas no
Simply beauty

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NU 203

Composed 3/25/16
Description: A rare prose piece from me. A description of a place in which I am forced to reside once a week for several hours…

It’s a hulking, ancient building amidst a concrete jungle. Today, gray – sky, air, rain. Inside, mud-spattered, dust accented patterned tile, arranged in ill-advised juxtaposition. The place is obviously old, without renovation since its original ribbon cutting, crafted by the wrinkled hands and bills of ancient cults of bald, spectacled men smoking cigars by the sparking fireplace. The endless faces of its patrons, a thousand eyes, stare, watch, smile blandly in their frames. Souls captured and sold – a warning, a premonition, a foreshadowing. Have they ever really left this place?

You turn and enter between gaps of cursed guardians. Perfectly square, dull tan and beige, the place boxes you in. A prison of monochrome uniformity. The metal chairs screech against the dull tile floor like demons clawing their way out of hell.

It is more a prison than any prison I know, giant concrete blocks and all. Only now the prison is a whitewashed reflection of high school nightmares, combining confinement with insecurity, awkwardness, and incurable boredom.

Not even windows give a peek into the outside world. Buzzing florescents coat the room in an aura of delusion. Reality vanishes in favor of a buttercream LSD trip. A power surge would send us scrambling into complete darkness. Not a shred of natural light filters through the cracks in slab. And the steaming heat, like the flames of hell, siphon away your desire to live, to go on…

The place sucks battery life even faster than it sucks out your soul. Technology dies rapidly as it reaches out for contact, any signal of hope, of life beyond these walls.

But no one answers. Only the drone of the establishment and the groans of your peers interrupt the silence…

On My Shelf

Composed 3/17/16
Description: Perhaps a cluttered shelf is a sign of a cluttered mind… and that’s just fine.
For the Daily Prompt: Shelf.

A cluttered, juxtaposed medley of me
A lightly dust-covered stationary sea
Of hats wrapped in ribbon, copper, red lace
That speak of an old and future time and place
Big blue boxes with small figurines
Of heroes and princesses, from movies, books, TV
Large, folded fans, too many tea cups and pots
And chopsticks alongside elegant clocks
Some tiny vases filled with ancient history
And floral, beaded bags of every color to see
Flowers from the neighbors
Flowers that span oceans
And books with pages always in motion
Shows, movies, autographs, sealed and cherished like treasure
Sentimental trinkets with value beyond measure
A cluttered, juxtaposed medley of me
Just glance at my shelf to see

My Legacies

Composed 3/10/16
Description: For today’s prompt: Legacy.

My words
May fall into the air
And fly off, up to bare mountain tops
They may slip right past flitting eyes
Or land there, but soon fade swiftly from the mind
I, likely, will fail to gain fame
Or even a following of any mass
But alas
I shall tuck these words away
Safe
In some one-day dusty tome
They will find a home in my bookshelf
And someday in a young one’s hands
And that young one may know me only by
My words

Someone’s Amortentia

Composed 3/9/16
Description: If this appeals to you, you might be in love with me. Just saying.

For Blogging the Senses.

Imagine
Red, silk sheets, exposed under thick comforters
Dented in the presence of a basking, drowsy cat
A slightly husky, very warm, animal, living smell

Imagine
Pulling out that old t-shirt
Soft, almost see-through, traveling between each winding finger
As you bring it up, inhale, lavender
Snuggle to be precise

Imagine
A hot, dry day
That t-shirt, cut-off jean shorts
Wet hair, silky calves, an aura
Of soft, sweet cherry blossoms

Imagine
A familiar home filled
With old wood, antique carpet
Knick-knacks, slightly dusty and
Bread, cookies, still baking

Don’t imagine
Breathe, smell it, sense it
It’s real, it’s here, it’s
Me

A Contrast in Perspective

Composed 3/8/16
Description: For today’s Daily Prompt: Contrast.

You see the world in monochrome
We see the world in black and white
Blue and pink
We see the rainbows and what’s gray
How they color coat the things of everyday that
Dictate what things we can touch
Without getting burned
And little changes as time passes
Because the masses and powerful see
The world through rose colored glasses
And that makes you
Blind

Don’t Call Me

Composed 3/7/16
Description: For today’s Daily Prompt: Sentimental.

I like your necklace ‘cause it looks good
I like your card because it’s sweet
But don’t call me sentimental

I like that blanket ‘cause it’s warm and it wraps me up at night
I like that sun-bleached jar of sand because it takes me far away
But don’t call me sentimental

I like your gifts because you knew me
But don’t you ever doubt
If my house caught fire
They’d burn
So don’t call me
Don’t call me sentimental

Behind Screens

Composed 3/6/16
Description: Just to write something… Here’s something inspired by today’s Daily Prompt.

You may see me
Through crisscross shadow lines
White pointed fences with curving ivy vines
I’m hidden in slivers, shoulder height in every crowd
You’ll truly only see me when there’s no one else around

Catch me alone, and you only see a guise
Bare, marked up skin or makeuped in disguise
My smile, is it deceptive? My frown is it a lie?
My laughter is easy, but then so are my sighs

So few have seen an unbounded me
Unleashed in the sunshine, wandering, free
Without a mask of sick or sweet
Even uncovered I hide behind screens