Category Archives: redux

·ƨ·Ƨ· summer nights ·Ƨ·ƨ·

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the blush of  pink

softly

washes o’er the garden

as the summer sun is

{{{whispering}}}

her goodbye

and

the night

arrives

late bringing

the moon with

a sprinkling of  stars

finally

wrapping

its arms

gently

across the lands and seas

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Beethoven’s   “Moonlight Sonata” 

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originally posted  27 June 2011

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artwork  ~  “Flowers”  Eugene Delacroix
{  public domain }

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Filed under blog anniversary, Creative Every Day, NaBloPoMo, poetry, Post-A-Day, redux

haboob {another creepy tail}

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It was easy to slip across the border from Mexico into Arizona and a haboob was the perfect cover to get into the city undetected.  The massive dust storms covered the valley at least once or twice every summer during the monsoon season.  One news helicopter photographer caught a few seconds of  the two lights moving in at the front edge of  the mile-high wall of  dust,  but it was explained away as airplanes skirting the storm to land at Phoenix Sky Harbor International Airport.  People only see what they want to…  especially those with neophobia.  In today’s political climate,  that was just about everybody.  Arrangements had been made the week before via email offering a remunerative deal that a local street gang couldn’t refuse.  It was just enough to cover what they could make in a month selling weed ~ any more would have made them suspicious.   A small bag full of  diamonds would be left at the landing site.

The two space ships set down unnoticed in the burnt-out block of  South Phoenix where the drug gang had chased off  all the addicts and homeless people.  By then, everyone who could be was inside anyway.  The haboob was an immense sand blaster made by nature with hurricane-force winds.  Anybody unlucky enough to be caught unawares was stuck on the side of  a road somewhere praying that their car wouldn’t be carried away like Dorothy’s house in the Wizard of  Oz.

Ramps came down from both landing craft letting out a strange neon-orange glow.  The eight-legged creatures made their way into the rubbish filled back yard of  an abandoned house.  A modulated signal beyond human hearing was being broadcast. The haboob would also mask detection by any of  the humans’  equipment designed to pick up sounds in that range.  In less than a minute a strange scurrying noise could be heard.  It seemed to get louder by the second.  The creatures from the space ships opened the doors at one end of  each of  the cases they carried in their two front claws,  laying them gently on the ground.  In under ten minutes,  the containers were being filled by scorpions of  every size scrambling over one another to get into the large cases.  The {illegal} aliens closed the containers and made their way back into their ships,  cooing and clicking to calm their babies within.  They had more than enough nurseries on board the mother ship to allow their descendants plenty of  room.  All of  the subterfuge had been unnecessary when they had made the last trip one hundred years ago.  It had been quite a surprise to discover that the city had grown so quickly,  invading their hatching grounds.  The next brood would have to be laid on a deserted planet in another solar system.

The ramps pulled up and the two ships launched back into the haboob just before the tail end of  the dust cloud passed through the area.  When they reached South Mountain,  the ships suddenly shot straight out of  Earth’s atmosphere in the blink of  an eye.  If  there had been any eyes looking.

Video footage of  the haboobs always made the network news shows the next day.  Only one local station aired a thirty-second segment the following week to report the abrupt disappearance of  scorpions in South Phoenix.  The residents themselves didn’t question it.  They were just grateful to have the scorpions gone since no one in that area could afford an exterminator.

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“Holiday”   Scorpions

{ by strange coincidence,  i’m a Scorpio.  make of  that what you will… }

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this story was prompted by ~

3 Word Week #23     at     READING AND WRITING BY PUB LIGHT
prompts:  {all three must be used}
thanks for the  ‘haboob’  prompt,  Steve ~ another creepy-crawly story for you {smile}

I.)  haboobn.
A penetrating sandstorm or dust storm with violent winds,  occurring chiefly in Arabia,  North Africa and India. {and in Arizona,  U.S.A.}

II.)  neophobian.  A tendency to dislike anything new;  a morbid fear of novelty;  misoneism.

III.)   remunerativeadj.
1.)  Yielding suitable recompense;  profitable.
2.)  Serving to remunerate.

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originally posted  27 September 2011

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photograph by Mike Oblinski of  an actual haboob in Phoenix
{  fair use }
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Filed under blog anniversary, Creative Every Day, fantasy, science fiction and horror, fiction, NaBloPoMo, Post-A-Day, prose, redux, short stories

·ਙ· •ਲ• · imperfect offering · •ਲ• ·ਫ·

· •ਲ• ·

•ਲ•

 i  give  you  this
my  imperfect  offering
·

all  that  i  have  to  give
~  my  self  ~

· •ਲ• ·

ਙ •ਲ• ਫ

· ਙ •ਲ• ਫ ·

·ਙ· • ਲ • ·ਫ·

 


“Anthem”   Leonard Cohen

artwork ~    “Blue on Tin”    Olga Rozanova
{  public domain }

originally posted  1 December 2013

“Anthem”   Leonard Cohen

lyrics ~

The birds they sang
at the break of day
Start again
I heard them say
Don’t dwell on what
has passed away
or what is yet to be.
Yeah the wars
they will be fought again
The holy dove
She will be caught again
bought and sold
and bought again
the dove is never free.

Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack in everything
That’s how the light gets in.

We asked for signs
the signs were sent:
the birth betrayed
the marriage spent
Yeah the widowhood
of every government —
signs for all to see.

I can’t run no more
with that lawless crowd
While the killers in high places
say their prayers out loud
But they’ve summoned, they’ve summoned up
a thundercloud
They’re gonna hear from me.

Ring the bells that still can ring …

You can add up the parts
you won’t have the sum
You can strike up the march
there is no drum
Every heart, every heart
to love will come
but like a refugee.

Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack, a crack in everything
That’s how the light gets in.

Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack, a crack in everything
That’s how the light gets in.
That’s how the light gets in.
That’s how the light gets in.

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Filed under blog anniversary, Creative Every Day, love, micropoetry, NaBloPoMo, poetry, Post-A-Day, redux

/.. • ADDicted // ..• . .

•  // •

//

your heart races

races

racessssssss

trying to catch up to

youR BODY TREMBLES you can’t hold //

still your mind’s out of

{YOU CAN’T} control where it goes you can’t //

·

breathe you want to deny

·

what you need BUT IT’S

//NO USE  you might as well

face it you’re

add

add

addictedddddddd

you can’t live

WITHOUT IT  // you

go mad all

·

alone facing

·

//this   and there
isn’t
any
any

any thing you can do

anything // but

GIVE IN

give up

a KISS…  is{n’t} all you

need // to have

MORE

now

 //for
ever

MORE //

you’re add

add
add

icted // YOU GOTTA

FACE

//IT  has you by the

{ heart }  throat  [ BALLS ]  and you might

as well // face

·

it  ’cause there’s

·

not a thing

• •  A  thing

•  •  • NOTHING•

you can do

but fuck

//ing  WHAT YOU WANT

can you do what you


want to do  /  WANT TO do  /  WANT to do

you know what you WANT to do //

give
give
give

IN  • • •

give it up…  ..

…another kiss

won’t  / be

enough

Never ENOUGH

//Never

too much

ADD
ADD
ADDicted
to this

lust // for the pain

/

of  the guilty

pleasure//

it’s ALL you


think about

think about

think about

it    // you might as

well FACE

IT… • …..

. . ..  ·•. .  .. ·/ /

you’re addicted to
LoveUST //

/

•·  ..

if  you haven’t heard this version of  “Addicted to Love” you’re in for a real treat

“Addicted to Love”   Florence and The Machine

image: Gaudenzio Marconi (1841-1885), Nudo femminile, circa 1870
{  public domain }

rewritten version above originally posted  25 September 2011

the first “addicted” was posted  15 January 2011  ~

»¤«

addicted to you

far stronger than any drug

you course through my veins

»¤«

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the longer version was inspired by
the prompt “use repetition in a poem”
from the amazing HEDGEWITCH
Poetics ~ Say It Again, Sam
at  dVerse ~ Poets Pub

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Filed under blog anniversary, Creative Every Day, love, lust, NaBloPoMo, poetry, Post-A-Day, redux

ꖢꔷ ꔷ i can build a house ꔷ ꔷꖢ

ꔷ ꖢ ꔷ

i can build a house

with the East wall looking to the future

the South made up of  the present

the West nothing but the past

the North facing infinite possibilities

and above a sky full of  stars

but it’s not a home

without you

ꔷ ꖢ ꔷ

ꕐ ꔷꖢꔷ ꖪ

ꔷ ꕐ ꔷꖢꔷ ꖪ ꔷ


“A House Is Not A Home”    Ella Fitzgerald

originally posted  21 February 2013

artwork ~   “Houses at Falaise in the Fog”   Claude Monet
{ public domain }

*in certain divinatory practices the directions represent time phases:

North = Infinite Possibility (no-time)
South = Present – Now
West = Past
East = Future

this was prompted by ~

Words Count With Mama Zen    at   imaginary garden with real toads
prompt:   build a house in 48 words or less


thank you,  Mama Zen!

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Filed under blog anniversary, Creative Every Day, imaginary garden with real toads, NaBloPoMo, poetry, Post-A-Day, redux