Friday, 31 May 2013

Goodbye Cruel Girl

This will be my last Trifextra at the Trifecta Writing Challenge. I'm moving on or at least taking a break.  It's been a slice and hope to see y'all around.

There was elegance to breaking up where we’d first kissed.

Fucking my best friend was not elegant.

Nor was pushing her off the Edge.

Which I did.

I really was never that Elegant.

Saturday, 25 May 2013


Trust ain't much 'less
I give something up.
I trust you with cash
if I don't get it back
It's no skin off my ass.

Trust is lost.

I'm not emotionally attached
to a sweaty wad of cash
So I just adjust my trust
to what I can afford.
Not a penny more.
It's worth a buck or two
to know I can't trust you.

Shame on you.

But matters of the heart
have more moving parts.
I hold my breath
and confess
that I need tenderness

God sorts out the rest.

If true love rolls her eyes
A little of me shrivels up and dies.
I know that love is blind
If it were deaf and dumb
I'd be just fine
Swallowing my pride
get back on my horse and ride

Live to trust another day.

Older and wiser
not much to hide now
I trust more and more
as I fear less and less.
(and I rarely confess)

Shame on me.

I pick and chose the Whos
who I schmooze with.
Trust don't come up much
'cause I cover my ass.

In the end God I trust and the rest can pay cash.

Inspired by Theme Thursday: Trust

Dark Side of the Moon

it's a mystery
nobody gets to see the
dark side of the moon

dark side of the moon
when Earth is too small
and the madness stops

Great Version of this Song.

Wednesday, 22 May 2013

Counting Blessings

counting blessings,
can't get to one

grateful for ...
for ...

twisted messages
broken dreams
shattered faith
close my eyes


grateful for ...
for ...

.... I exhale

grateful for ...
... breath

for what
He's taken
and what
He's left
behind ...

grateful for ...

children ...

"... one, two, buckle my shoe.."

counting blessings,
the best I can do

today ...


Prayers to the families in Oklahoma in this time of grief and tragedy. 

Monday, 13 May 2013

Mother's Day Antithesis

Dear Mom,

I can no longer hide the reasons why I am so unHappy. Mother’s, every Day. As you may or may not know, I have to find a new excuse not to kill myself. The scars from my child hood are now so painful and obvious Im unable to continue looking myself in the mirror.  

I will be forwarding information regarding the abuse in our home to the police. I still feel like that dirty little baby I scrub myself for hours in the shower and  I still never feel really clean. I don't want to do this but I have to. I know this will be a thankless undertaking and the family will be upset. you cannot understand how important a happy home, safe from abuse is for my husband and children (your grandchildren) 

I know I am to blame for setting myself up for these ongoing attacks. I will no longer be a party to my own abuse adain. will always love you and I understand you did the best you could. Unfortunately your best is punishable by law and the full accounting for your behaviour is yet to come. 

Please let me know if there is anything I can bring.

Love. Sam

Track Changes: Accept all Insertions and Deletions

Tears and mascara have morphed Samantha's eyes into Alice Cooper caricatures. With steady hands and deliberate movements she accepts the Tracked Changes and cuts and pastes the content into the body of an e-mail.

The Result:

Happy. Mother’s Day

As you know, I have a new child now and Im looking forward to the baby shower. I wanted to thank you from my husband and children (your grandchildren) for setting up the party.   love you and the best is yet to come. 

Please let me know if there is anything I can bring.

Love. Sam

Sliding a large manilla envelope into the desk drawer, she says aloud:

"Behind every successful woman is herself." 

A faint smile emerges. New strength flows into her filling her with comfortable confidence. She tidies her mascara and practices her three most authentic smiles in the mirror before going downstairs to start dinner. 

She's going to be just fine... 

***Author's Note: This is a writing exercise and does not reflect any people or circumstances in my life or the life of anyone I know.

1: characterized by or resulting from careful and thorough consideration <a deliberate decision>
2: characterized by awareness of the consequences<deliberate falsehood>
3: slow, unhurried, and steady as though allowing time for decision on each individual action involved <a deliberate pace>

Sunday, 12 May 2013

Just One More

" . . . An ever increasing craving for an ever diminishing pleasure is the formula. . . . to get a man’s soul and give him nothing in return ..." Quoted from C.S. Lewis, The Screwtape Letters, P.44

Please sir, can I 
have some more?
Just one more?
More of what?
What you got?
This and that
and some stuff.

Stuff is good.

What you got
is good enough
smooth the Edge
It's been tuff
she took off ... 
she came back ...
she ran away.
I'm losing track.

Just one more...

Not allot 
just a taste. 
Hate to see it
go to waste on
fuck this place. 
After that
put it away
live to die 
another day.

Just one more... 

Now the door
is wide open
I'm hopin to 
slam that fucker shut
but, but, but...
I need to score 

Just one more ...

turned off my cell
Too drunk to drive
Stay out now
Get home alive
I survive 
hell to pay
before I put
the monkey away

Just one more...

Note: This is based on personal experience, friends, relationships, relatives, movies, books and music.  It is not based on my current life or a cry for help.

Inspired by D'verse prompt: "Temptation"

Tuesday, 7 May 2013

Haiku Heights: Daredevil

I was a kid in the seventies. 
We didn't have x-box or computers. 
Yoyos and slinkies were high technology. 
But you should see what we could do with a mustang bike! 
Hair straight back with tears in our ears.
And we didn't wear helmets. 

dumb looking helmets
jeepers creepers they're no fun
in the seventies 

in the seventies
kids hit jumps at ninety miles
character scars

character scars
mine looks like a question mark
stitch it up later

stitch it up later 
 we're laughing our butts off at
dumb looking helmets

Inspired by the theme at

Monday, 6 May 2013

Wrecked Him???

I stumbled on "Poetic Blooming"  the prompt was to take the punch line of a joke and make a poem out of it. 

So ....

Wrecked ‘em?
Damn near killed ‘em
spilled ‘em
across the blacktop
sunny side up
with a short stack jack

Butter cup flashing startin line.
finish line crashing double dip
one more bump and he’s awake
Ricky Bobby shake n’ bake
and breaks his pelvis in Graceland

Teenage Wasteland….

real gangstas neva say a word
no I said shaken’ not stirred
Double Oh Seven eleven
gas cap flew off – mazel tov
going too damn fast – jerk off

Double clutch not enough
to make dead mans curve


Thicker Than Water

I'd like to thank the Trifectans for voting me into third place this week. I consider myself in fine company with Draug. Congrats to all others who placed and submitted an entry. 

This week was fun reading the stories as getting my nerd on. I am going to try to keep my writing on topic with Mother's Day up coming ... with the exception of this one. Not sure how I ended up here but I had fun with it.

“Blood is thicker than water Mate.” 

Uncle Reg lived with us for twenty years and his British accent was actually getting worse  -  “thicker” sounded like “fickah”.
I’d heard that saying many times. It made my skin crawl.  The first time was when he was cleaning bits of sawdust and blood from my tiny nine-year-old frame.  He was a cabinetmaker. He smelled of fresh cut wood, sweat and tobacco. He’d built a special place in his shop “just for us”. 

“Back home this is how they made a man of us lad”. He’d reassure me.

He was different before and after. Before, he was scary and intense. There was something in his eyes – a hunger or craving. His hands would shake as he fumbled on top of me. After, the look was gone. He was sheepish and couldn’t look at me in the eye. Sometimes he’d yell at me and tell me to stay away from him.  I learned to keep my distance.

This went on until I was eighteen when I told him if he touched me again I’d kill him.  He pleaded with me, claiming I was the only one.  Another boy would become like him. He said relatives were immune to the change. 

Fuck him. I was done.

Uncle Reg became twisted and deformed, claiming sudden arthritis. During this same time, pets in the neighborhood started to mysteriously go missing.  A year or two later there wasn’t a cat or a dog for blocks around us. The locals blamed it on coyotes.

Uncle Reg’s health suddenly returned. We’d kept our distance over time but I could see he was changing.  One evening I followed him to his shop and found him leaning over my eight-year-old nephew.  

“Blood is thicker than water Mate.”

I picked up a shovel and took his head clean off. I held my nephew, shielding him from the bloody mess. “It really is thick,” I remember thinking.

I drove a stake through his heart for insurance.

Trifecta Prompt: Blood (lineage) 
Word Count: 333

Friday, 3 May 2013


Today's Trifextra Challenge is to write the origin story of any super-hero in 33 words. I had a chance to really flex my geek wings here but I went another way.

Big sister hero
Underdog defender
Sleeping with hunger
Dreaming of tomorrow

Villainous violation
Rabbit homicide
Run away Needle-Dick
Simmering revenge

Scholarship superpowers
Postpartum fraternity
Mid-term chocolate pickles
Summa cum maternity

Super Single Mom!