For November Notes Day 2 the song is “New Rules” by Dua Lipa. I’m combining this prompt with Björn from #dVerse Peet’s Pub on defining a monster you fear.
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Credit: Miranda Whiperfurth via Unsplash—-
Dua Lipa – “New Rules”
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I saw him walk,
Saw him fire randomly.
Searchimg for specific victims,
Fear was palpable, hanging heavy —
In the sunlit air, deceptive for the scent of blood.
Pungent, stinging my lungs,
As if breathing in a mustard gas.
No one should ever have to know —
Deaths putrid scent.
See it pooling,
From a loved one or friend.
No one should have to see,
How medicine cannot always heal;
By knowledge or by quickness.
That the scariest monsters are the ones,
Seemingly kind, normal,
Even attractive humans.
Those who cannot function,
Losing control by illness,
Or by self-indoctrination.
Breaking to pieces,
Flipping their humanity switch.
Or lost in a terrifying nightmare,
Blurring into their edges.
They’ve nothing soft left,
No heart remaining,
In cold blood or insanity.
He may have been a gun man,
Or perhaps, he was a manipulator?
A lesser monster whose pain,
Transformed into rage.
A monster stealing peace of mind,
Security and safety.
Through vile methods.
He’s the twenty phone calls your ignoring,
Sleeping with him anyways,
Just so he’ll go away.
Because you don’t feel anything,
Cringing at his touch.
Under him it’s all to clear,
Your never over him;
Until you don’t let him return ever.
But he enjoys the tatters,
While regret knots in your stomach,
Grows agonizing when he —
Doesn’t hear all your “No’s” and “Stops.”
But you stay with him,
You let him believe,
Because has the power to harm,
A craziness in his eyes.
Different bullets than the gunmen,
Bullets just the same.
Welcome to OctPoWrMo Day 2 . I’ll be going back to Day 1. But today’s prompt was writing what we must. And this is what resulted, sorry to begin with the topic isn’t light.
The gitter of the morning sun touches the dew, the liquid grass blades absorb it, deprived of water, sucking it back like tequila shots. The little ones arrive, talking loudly and shrieking; there are tears, there are runny noses, and there are giggles of happiness. The three-year-olds line up and parents help them do their tasks; Practicing kicking the ball into the net, running here and there, being the goalie, and following each other closely, a pack of pigeons squawking; all is well until Jordy pushes Chris and the toddlers aren’t afraid, piling on top of each other with delighted screams.
http://www.taskcomplete.com
What shape is midnight, when the Owls come out. Hooting to each other to see if there mate is there?
What shape does the night take when you stayed in instead. I quite relief to keep peace in your soul. But too much thinking in bed.
While the world all around rings with laughter and cheer. You hear Auld Lang-sine as the clock strikes the hour, 2015 has disappeared.
The fireworks start with a sparkling of lights. The people and the snow are alight with holiday glow. Then you hear a recessive bang as one by one the crackers glitter the black sky.
And what happens when the fireworks quiet? When the last toast of champagne has been given. When the treats are all eaten. When the last ring of smoke is blown.
Another year begins with goals to do and do not. But I’m still in the hour between twilight and night when the soaring stars glimmer over crisp tree branches.
I’m still in the time as I did my last bend on a yoga mat purple to end the year with Namaste. I’m still in the moment I drank a big glass of wine. Lush red, bold with a bite.
Cabernet-Sauvignon by Louis M. Martin, last bottle of the year before the sandman comes calling. Last bottle to crisian the new year, 2016.
And while it is early yet, the party dresses have been chosen. The suites and tyes pulled out and the world is awaiting. Change fast midnight isn’t stalling.
Down in time square, the famous ball will drop. The people are packed in like rats. But it would be an experience. To let the hours tick by with the best live entertainment.
But I am the mouse in a blue house and I am writing poetry of the midnight kind. The poem is as quick silver and it runs through my lips. This word, now that phrase, think harder, repeat.
What kind of words are caught in a moment, in the twinkling of eyes filled with mirth and red wine. When does the world return to normal. Not ever, not only. My reply.
Keep on crushing those jello shouts inside of strawberries. Never say I don’t get my fruit or veggies. Tick, tock, tick, tock. The clock is calling, for midnight is where we will meet.
There is no reprieve you are “stuck in a moment and you can’t get out of it.” Sing it like Bono. U2, I’m not into them so much anymore. Ever since they gave me their last album for free.
Consequently, the Owls are about to fly. The moon is a giant disk of white light in the sky and the man on the moon is smiling in delight.
The whole worlds turned up to see him in the spotlight. Appear for the moment the ball drops in New York. Appear for the moment the Opera House in Camberra lights the sky with explosions.
Appear as the Northeran Lights spread a green- purple wash of watercolours across the sky and you are struck by the thought. This moment in time will never repeat.
A moment takes place and then is done. So live it up, be where you are in the present time. Sing loud and sing honestly as the year flashes by. Remember the old times the bad and the good.
Remember that as my year slips away, in the midnight we embrace and a new day a New Year has begun.
We have a blank space to live our lives in so smash it with colour the bright and the bold. Crash it with wet paint and make your surrounding beautiful and magnificent.
Build the New Year of your dreams. At midnight for a moment, we can touch the stars and make a wish in 2016.
It was taking my mixed junior high class two-hours to arrive at the Ranch for the Deaf. There was several different activities to do there that could be done by those deaf or not. The Pastor who greeted us signed his words as he spoke to us and shared a devotion.
We ate hot dogs and roasted them on metal sticks over a fire pit. My teacher took our junior high class on a walk through the wilderness. I wasn’t to happy about this. If you know me, you know I am mostly an indoors girl due to allergies to fungi, grass, trees, other molds, and pollen. I swallowed my Bendryl with regret as I knew how tired it would make me later on.
We made walking sticks out of smaller trees, peeling the bark off them and rowed a boat in a body of water on the ranch. We learned how to shoot riffles. I remember the bruises I had on my shoulder from the kick-back of the guns.
Lastly, there were the horses who followed us behind wire and wood fences as we walked. I stopped for a moment and laid my hand on the nose of pretty brown chestnut horse. She sniffed me then laid her head on my shoulder as I stroked her snout and scratched behind her ears.
She was beautiful and breathtaking. She followed me as we continued to walk. When I came close to her she hid her nose in my hair and gave a few wet kisses to my neck. I didn’t and still don’t know a lot about horses. But as I found with certain dogs, I realized horses know something about people. They are drawn to certain people for whatever reason they are. They see in people for their souls and they adore you without requiring anything but a nice scratch and perhaps a carrot. Their’s is a love that gives without regret.
Mandibelle16 
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