1608 - Pythia

 

The Sunday Whirl presents twelve words for us to use in a creative writing piece.  

This weeks words are:

waves, slip, void, soul, restless, dark, chanting, flickering, pulse, chance, marble, fan

Pythia

The language of excitement is at best picturesque merely.

You must be calm before you can utter oracles.

-- Henry David Thoreau

The fumes come in waves

From cracks in the rock.

Attendant priestesses chant,

Hypnotic, rhythmic, throbbing—

In time with the pulse of the oracle.

There, seated on a tripod,

In the moonlight, flickering,

The petitioners, restless, wait

For their answer. Is it war?

Do we chance our arm? Or not?

Lives are at stake. Fortunes.

She sits quietly, surrounded

By the protective and the anxious,

A reflective soul in a trance,

Her mind mingling with the divine.

Oblivious to those around her,

She slips in and out of their world,

Their concerns, the dark voids

Of their fears and ambitions.

Cloistered in her marble temple,

Where flickering torches dance on stone,

Her answers ripple through the empire,

Like shadows cast and then gone.

And so she sits. And thinks.

Surety brings ruin.

◊

1607 - The Journey of a River Stone

 

The Sunday Whirl presents twelve words for us to use in a creative writing piece.  

This weeks words are:

pebble, shiny, laden, ghost, mingled, blisters, gasping, vanishing, empty, scatter, forest, shadows

The Journey of a River Stone

In matters of style, swim with the current; 

in matters of principle, stand like a rock.

--Thomas Jefferson

Forged by the earth,

My start did not direct my end.

I was bigger then, rougher,

Laden with hope, perhaps,

Hope mingled with expectation.

I am bold and boulder. 

Weather played with me,

Bits blistered off, scree, pebbles,

Slowly parting, vanishing.

Cracks formed in me, I broke,

I parted with myself.

All families disperse, scatter.

No time to feel empty.

A river embraces me, rushes me,

Tumbling, gasping through rapids,

Tough times polish us.

I become smooth and shiny.

Eventually the river calms

I too calm, shallow waters

Beneath a forest canopy.

Sunlight and shadows flicker.

They say I have spirits, spirituality

Possibly even ghosts.

◊

1606 - The Forest

 

The Sunday Whirl presents twelve words for us to use in a creative writing piece.  
This weeks words are:

vast salty simmering habits mind trickle secretive brim axe roots shadows stones

The Forest

“If you go off into a far, far forest and get very quiet, 

you’ll come to understand that you’re connected with everything.”

― Alan Watts

Beneath the vast canopy, 

Encased in green velvet,

The forest embraces us.

Roots and branches mesh

Shadows and clearings

Animals, secretive, furtive,

Captives of their own habits.

Birds heard, seldom seen.

An axe, leans agains a tree,

Rusty, abandoned but for the moss,

Moss shared by the stones, logs.

A creek trickles and tinkles,

Fresh, clear, not salty

Part of the orchestra of the forest.

Brim full of sounds, adagio

Simmering, interlaced.

If you have a mind to listen,

A mind to connect.

-x-

1605 - The Walker

 

The Sunday Whirl presents twelve words for us to use in a creative writing piece.  
This weeks words are:

draw cracks sly sliver sleepy footprints stories moon outskirts wispy sky sea

The Walker

Narrator

It is twilight, faint moonlight shows the way

Movement! Noise! Mew. All cats are grey.

Steps of a lone walker, crunch the track.

The Walker

I know not where I am going, how can I go back?

Narrator

We are on the outskirts of the town, the sea below

Down the cliff, washes the sand with salt and foam.

The Walker

The stars fill the sky above me, a few wispy clouds drifting by,

Behind pulled curtains people get sleepy, by and by,

Cracks, mere slivers of light, escape the curtains,

Living their lives, oblivious to me.  Of that I’m certain.

Narrator

He leaves neither footprints nor other signs

The Walker

I am passing through with no designs

There are no conclusions to discuss or draw

I've never been in this place before—

I just am.  An innocent bystander passing by.

Narrator

In the dark, the cat watches: cautious, still, and sly.

◊

1604 - The Crystal Ball

 

The Sunday Whirl presents twelve words for us to use in a creative writing piece.  
This weeks words are:

twigs, divine, wake, blood, wallow, cell, memory, 

ancestors, crystal, creation, ledge, unbroken

The Crystal Ball

As twigs sprout where old leaves once lay,  

Through divine breath, life finds its way.

In its wake, a memory of ancestors past,

A blood-line that will likely outlast

Those who would destroy this creation,

Ignoring its causation,

Destroying its foundation,

Oblivious to implied probation,

Teetering on the ledge of annihilation,

It is our home, it is our cell,

What the future offers is not hard to tell,

As we wallow in our self-made residue

Unbroken, the cycle spins anew,  

We crew are just superfluous—

The planet has no need for us.

◊

1603 - The Chief

 

The Sunday Whirl presents twelve words for us to use in a creative writing piece:
Nibbles, slithers, spoon, platform, shards, root, constellations, limbs, dreary, spell, shake, wet

I confess I didn't use them all

The Chief.

It was a high-class affair where every day he’d prepare
Extraordinary culinary thrills.
This was no “Eat at Joe’s”. No, not even close
T’was platform to showcase his skills.
He used spoons in a way that the experts would say
Was surely poetry in motion, (they’d know).
His root veg were fine diced, then pureed and spiced
But it was all a bit of a show
A show,
A show,
It was all a bit of a show.

Each day was a quest to better the best,
What joys would he next unleash?
He used shards of toffee to sweeten black coffee
And slivers of truffle in the quiche
It had to be seen what he did with green beans
And his souffles invariably thrilled.
His batters were beery but never thought dreary
And the fish queued up to be grilled.
To be grilled
To be grilled
The fish queued up to be grilled.

Michellin said ‘Huzzah!’, we’ve found a new star
A constellation to rival Orion.
This chef is so swell, we are all in his spell
And he does it with out even tryin’.
But never let it said that it went to his head
The staff, he considered them blood-line.
At the end of the night, they dimmed all the lights 
And nibbled on cheese and red wine,
Red wine,
Red wine,
They nibbled on cheese and red wine.

◊

1602 - Memento mori

 

The Sunday Whirl presents twelve words for us to use in a creative writing piece:

creation seeds waters blood breathe turtle sacred bones curve sky pray heal

Memento mori

From that moment of creation,

That bloody, noisy show,

We wish to find causation,

The reason for our woe.

We know it must be there, hiding,

Like some turtle in the weeds.

Why can’t it be confiding,

And fill our basic needs?

There’s little sacred about our life,

Just bones and mostly water

Existence pivots on a knife:

Long for some, too often shorter.

That’s not to say life’s profane,

We cherish and adore,

There is so much we’d do again,

And again, as we often have before.

We look and pray towards the sky 

But pass from and to the soil,

Like seeds that think and try

To comprehend their mortal coil.

Time heals all wounds they say,

But time is curved, not straight.

How can we know from day to day

What lands upon our plate?

Is there a reason for this life?

To breathe and love and die?

To bid farewell to a loving wife

But to never know just why?

Yet, as we lament those now past

The same fate waits us all.

Nothing good is sure to last

And we all will get the call.

◊

1601 - Chambers of Amber

 

                                The Sunday Whirl presents twelve words for us to use:

amber rumpled holiness skin ancient bones invisible weep chambers three seeds spiral

Chambers of Amber

No rumpled memories of you for me,

They are sharp and crystal clear.

I daily miss you desperately

And most readily shed a tear.

When I look at what life gave to you

And took you early from this place

I struggle with those fine purveyors 

Of holiness, divinity and grace.

I miss the contact, intimate, of skin

On willing skin; a spoon affair.

Holding you in that warm embrace,

Flesh on flesh, the odour of your hair.

I wept for you but weep for me

As I wander through this land

A stranger now set free (an odd idea)

With no-one here to hold my hand.

We are a bag of meat and bones

A thinking pot roast, presented lightly,

So what is that unseen essence, 

That holds my heart so tightly?

Ancient wisdom, Seneca of course, says

Be strong, love what is,  just be.

It is the seed of a future that is to come.

But how can I release the past when it is me?

What’s past is past and cannot change

Like amber that entombs a gnat or three

It just remains suspended tightly there 

As a loving, cherished memory.

◊

1600 - Patchwork

 

The Sunday Whirl presents the following words for us to use:

flesh sand clay scarce drifted pearl page split pick veil rose gem

I opted for a medley of Senryu.

The touch of warm flesh—

A very human pleasure;

I miss that contact.

The relentless sand.

The hourglass drains

And life flows away.

Life can be mucky:

Surrounded by swamps and clay.

A trap for your feet.

True friends are quite scarce.

Promises are made and kept

By those you can trust.

How did I come here?

What was I even thinking?

In truth, I drifted.

It’s a metaphor:

Layers upon more layers—

My life as a pearl.

The pages will turn

But what we write upon them?

That is the question.

Opinions are split.

The conundrum of our time.

Add milk first? Or tea?

So much to choose from—

What is good and what is bad?

You can take your pick.

An erotic show:

The dance of the seven veils.

Or so I am told.

I planted a rose

On the day she became ill.

Just the rose remains.

Life can seem dirty

But beneath the dust and filth

The gems are still there.

1599 - Whispers in the Gloaming

 

The Sunday Whirl presents the following words for us to use:

Wonder, stained, gloaming, emerge, prayer, hours, grateful,
seeds, chances, whispered, smudge, conjuring

Whispers in the Gloaming

In the twilight hours that end the day

My loss, most sharp, appears.

Demons emerge in shades of grey

And conjure heartfelt tears.

I miss you so, you filled my space,

More than I thought you could,

Your love, your laugh, your warm embrace,

Your sense of right and good.

You added wonder to my life,

Tempered my prosaic bent,

I’m so glad you chanced to be my wife,

An adventure, with consent.

What does the future hold for me?

The crystal ball is smudged.

What seeds will now unfold for me?

How will my prayers be judged?

I have so much to be grateful for,

That I had you for so long.

I thought I would cope that fateful hour,

Clearly, I was wrong.

◊

1598 - The Reset

 

The Sunday Whirl presents the following words for us to use:
sober bees urgent lunges angel swirls water mind frenzied scream light sunset

The Reset

I

The sun went through its cycle: from sunrise to sunset, warming the earth.
Bees went soberly about their business in the gentle morning light.
Moths and butterflies too, though more haphazard, less sober.
Birds flitted, animals grazed, the jungles and savannahs grew.
The waters burbled and swirled.  Fish did what fishes do.
There was no urgency to the world.

II

Somewhere, on the savannah, an ape stood erect.
Other apes too.  Confrontation.  Battle.
A rock crushed a skull.  A stick pierced skin.
Frenzied fighting.  Lunges.  Screams.
Tribal cries of triumph reverberated.
Technology.  Better weapons.
Arrows.
Swords.
Guns.
Cannons.
Rockets.
Missiles.
Slaughter and mayhem.
Greed and Envy.
A world had lost its mind.


III

ENOUGH! Impatience echoed through the clouds.
Birds took to the air, animals looked up.  Time stood still.
The angels screamed.


IV

The sun went through its cycle: from sunrise to sunset, warming the earth.
Bees went soberly about their business in the gentle morning light.
Moths and butterflies too, though more haphazard, less sober.
Birds flitted, animals grazed, the jungles and savannahs grew.
The waters burbled and swirled.  Fish did what fishes do.
There was no urgency to the world.

1597 - Will Stars Still Twinkle

 

The Sunday Whirl posted a list of words to use.  

I got stuck on just one: Twinkle.

Will stars still twinkle?

Will stars still twinkle when you’re gone?

Will sunsets entrance me once again?

Will birds add a chorus to the dawn?

Will any pleasures still remain?

I lie and listen to the nearby breathing

Knowing what is soon in store.

The beast is not of a mind for leaving

It too once slept but now no more.

So as I lie there, sadly resigned

To the future as it currently seems,

Stray thoughts wander through my mind

And rob me of my sleep.  And dreams.

Will stars still twinkle when you’re gone?

Will I enjoy listening to the rain?

Will I lie in the sun upon the lawn?

Will any pleasures still remain?

--- ◊ ---

1596 - Post Your Own Bail

 

Post Your Own Bail

You had a troubled childhood?

Your parents weren’t supportive?

You only had dogs for company?  

Well, at least you had company.

You had a troubled childhood? 

Your brother and sister still treat you as the little sister?

Their partners annoy you?  Some extremely? 

That’s life.  Suck it up, darling.

You had a troubled childhood?

You feel that you cannot trust people.

You feel unsupported and isolated

But are spiky and cold—your choice.

You had a troubled childhood?

You feel that this is a ‘get out of jail free’ card?

A licence to be passive aggressive?

To be openly hurtful?  You are wrong.

You had a troubled childhood?

Is that a reason to not grow up?

1595 - Two Handles

 

Two Handles

There are two handles.

We can choose which one we grasp.

One rough and one smooth.

◊

Some people choose rough.

They are itching for a fight:

Fractious and feisty.

◊

The wise will choose smooth.

Life's a battle already,

Why make it harder?

.

---

© 2023  J Cosmo Newbery

---

1594 - Together

 

A log-fire burning.

Two people are sitting there.

Reading, side by side.

.

---

© 2023  J Cosmo Newbery

---   

1593 - Trim Thoughts

 

The Sunday Whirl presents the following words for us to use:

pain stay trapped brave cry shine crafty stray drain run settle trim

Trim Thoughts

I

In a world of pain

You bring kindness—

A priceless gift.

II

We are all trapped.

Most stay.

Some stray.

The truly brave run.

III

The sun shines.

The sky, clear and blue.

The air is crisp.

I want to cry.

IV

Crafty hobbies

Distract the mind,

Drain the cares.

Settle.

Relax.

.

---

© 2023  J Cosmo Newbery

---   

1592 - Through a Glass Darkly

 

The Sunday Whirl presents the following words for us to use: (I didn't use them all)

 

mingled dim damp shallow spell gaze drifts shattered call twitch words split

 

Through a glass darkly

Emotions tumble through my mind,

Mingled love and fear and hope

What does the future hold?

And will I really cope?

“Write it down”, I’m told:

“Dump your shattered heart

Onto the private pages 

Of a journal, if you’re smart.”

But in the dim light of the morning

I struggle with the words;

Whichever way in which I gaze,

The view is bleak and blurred.

That the beast is in abeyance,

Gives relief but not elation.

It’s been halted for the moment:

Suspended animation.

When will it spring back to life?

When will my wife be dead?

The pointed sword of Damocles

Suspended by a thread.

And so I write as best I can

Of the now and present past

Embracing love where I can;

Only memories will last.

The reality is quite brutal,

To end then then begin.

A solitary life awaits me.

Damp tissues in the bin.

.

---

© 2023  J Cosmo Newbery

    ---   

1591 - Drink

Mad Kane poses a regular limerick challenge.

The key word this week is ‘drink’.

The neighbours all love to assess

How proper your grief and distress

But forget what they think

And have a good drink,

They're not there for you to impress.

---

I'm fond of a red, I confess,

Favouring more rather than less.

And I do love the chink 

Of a celebratory drink

Knowing nothing exceeds like excess.

.

---

© 2023  J Cosmo Newbery

---   

Please note: This is a writing exercise: the neighbours are really lovely.

1590 - The Playlist

 

 The Sunday Whirl presents the following words for us to use:

ascending morning head dreams between hand road storytellers poem potion feather three

The Playlist

A common theme displayed,

Poems of love and longing;

Laments of unrequited dreams,

Prayers for warm belonging.

The storytellers bare their hearts,

Asking for compassion;

Can we head down that road

In a truly honest fashion?

Emotions ascend to dizzy heights

To rescue from the rubble,

These singers of the sad laments:

But morning bursts the bubble.

The recipient of this playlist

Few can understand

The dark, foreboding shadow

Of its cold malignant hand.

We are, as they say, caught between,

With no answers so to speak.

We close our eyes and bow our heads

And tears run down our cheek.

.

---

© 2023  J Cosmo Newbery

---   

1589 - The Flight of the Cuckoo

 The Sunday Whirl presents the following words for us to use:

hope feathers flight sight guise desire chime beyond spinning open springs drive

The Flight of the Cuckoo

The chimes punctuate the passage,

Of time and life and flock.

Only death knows what lies beyond

And each day tends the clock.

We think we are important,

That we’re all made of steel,

But the world will keep on spinning 

With no-one at the wheel.

The question is an open one, 

That humans will survive?

Are we cuckoos in the earthly nest,

Consuming to deprive?

So what drives us on?  Desire, I guess,

Just some immortal twist:

To know we made a difference,

To know we will be missed.

Ego in the guise of caring

Will reluctantly admit:

It no-one’s there to miss us,

What is the point of it?

The chimes punctuate the passage,

Of time and life and flock.

Only death knows what lies beyond

And each day tends the clock.

.

---

© 2023  J Cosmo Newbery

---   

1588 - Finding Roses

 

The Sunday Whirl presents the following words for us to use:

mist creek belt shadows forest summer still rising crow filters time sentinel*

Finding Roses

“I am a forest, and a night of dark trees: 
but he who is not afraid of my darkness, 
will find banks full of roses under my cypresses.”  
-– Nietzche

The forest is quite still and dark,

Or so at first it seems.

But wait. And hear the rustling trees,

And burbling mountain steams.

Cypresses watch upon the woods,

Sentinels in the midst.

While shadows from what light there is

Play games upon the mist.

There is a clearing in this forest,

Where cypresses ease their grip;

You’ll discover banks of roses there,

That well reward the trip.

.

---

© 2023  J Cosmo Newbery

---   

*I confess that I didn't use them all.

1587 - Running out

 

Running Out

They said that it would—

The system is shutting down.

No miracles here.

 .

---

© 2023  J Cosmo Newbery

---   

1586 - That much

 

That much.

Does your mother drink?
Just half a glass when I do.
Oh.  Really?  That much.
 .
---
© 2023  J Cosmo Newbery
---   

1585 - Relative appointment

 

Relative appointment

Doctor's waiting rooms.

Time is different there.

Einstein understood.

 .

---

© 2023  J Cosmo Newbery

---   

1584 - Demons

 

Those recurring thoughts,

The demons of the darkness,

Rob me of my sleep.

 .

---

© 2023  J Cosmo Newbery

---   

1583 - Check the Feet

 

Check the Feet

How am I doing?

There are no easy answers—

I really don't know.

 .

---

© 2023  J Cosmo Newbery

---   

1581 - A young fellow called Shawn

 

Poets & Storytellers United invite us to create poetry or

prose inspired by the words Reclaim, Rekindle, Rebirth.

There once was a young fellow called Shawn,

Who claimed to be Jesus, reborn.

When decried as a fake

He strode to the lake

Stepped in, gave a scream and was gorn.

 .

---

© 2023  J Cosmo Newbery

---   

1580 - Didn't skip a beat

 

Before & After

The normal treatment,

Chemo and radiation—

Didn't skip a beat.

 .

---

© 2023  J Cosmo Newbery

---   

1579 - Cheese

 

Mad Kane had a limerick challenge using the word 'blue'.

Cheeses

They can be soft, hard or quite blue.

They can be smelly or oozing white goo.

They are often a winner

And the end of the dinner,

And cheese can be like that, too.

 .

---

© 2023  J Cosmo Newbery

---   

1578 - The Matter is Serious

 

The Sunday Whirl presents the following words for us to use:

boat preserve speak resist oil fire drive fly shoot matter close right

The Matter is Serious.

Why are people afraid to speak up?

The right believe they are indeed right,

A god-given, there’s a quote somewhere in the bible, right

(No, not the one about the meek.  Another one.)

Something about oil. About the right to money too.

And something about shooting.  Guns, yes, guns, it says you can shoot people.

Ok, the quotes may be a bit obscure and need a careful interpretation

But I am assured that they are there.  

I’ll check with the church’s Chief Financial Officer, he’ll know, I’m sure.

It might not be exact but I pretty sure it is close to the meaning.

I mean it sounds right.  Don't read it myself.

And so they go on these entitled few,

Resisting the obvious, proud of their electric cars

Powered by coal-fired electricity.

I can’t see it ending well.

It’s said that we are all in the same boat.

No, we are all in the same storm.

Vastly different boats.

The ending will not be pretty.

Oh, to be a fly on the wall..

---
© 2023  J Cosmo Newbery
---