and so as not to dis the etiquette of my new found tribe i too partook of the shit on a shingle entrée… Saturday night with nothing to do i strolled down two quarter blocks on Virgil Avenue and turned left to order ginger ale from the one the guys called Mama San we were all AA students but the boys chose to ditch school 5 days a week they talked about the evils of malt liquor as they drank down their rye sharing army stories of the war in Viet Nam they hazed me into conversation but all i could muster was having read about Iran/Contra in current events for my 9th grade dissertation i called Susi over and asked for the check slipping off the bar stool they executed a synchronous head turn im not a drill sergeant i thought to myself i wiped my space dry with my over stretched sleeve and the guy with a Teamster’s Cap circa 73’ offered a story about Buffalo Springfield my stoic face gave me away and two old timers said i was a kid i sat back up and ordered Red Bull on the rocks knowing it would be a battle the Rolodex of my mind spun and whirred i lightly joked about Neil Young and Crazy Horse clarifying i got their CD from Target the soldiers they all had a chuckle detonating the wrinkles of suffering ingrained on their face i rammed through their barrier with my praise of Stevie Ray Vaughn and i wrapped up my ambush with a very harrowing rendition of Fortunate Son and as the cigarette smoke lifted their silhouettes shifted to a comfortable slump and they ordered some food so the party could start
Month: May 2019
The Friday Reminder and Prompt for #SoCS May 4/19
Good morning, and welcome to your Friday Stream of Consciousness Saturday prompt! We’re back to our regularly scheduled whatever prompts rather than being limited to a letter of the alphabet. Phew! That was quite the month, wasn’t it? Here’s your prompt:
Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “fall from the sky.” Write about anything that falls from the sky–real, imagined, or idiomatic. Have fun!
After you’ve written your Saturday post tomorrow, please link it here to this week’s prompt page and check to make sure it’s here in the comments so others can find it and see your awesome Stream of Consciousness post. Anyone can join in!
To make your post more visible, use our pretty SoCS badge! Just paste it in your Saturday post so people browsing the reader will immediately know your post is stream of consciousness and/or pin it as a widget to your…
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what can i say
the trance floats my feet across London Bridge where i meet the Sex Pistols for tea then i met the Dalai Lama for goat yoga and he read the Scottish Play to me i raised my head down from the clouds to capture the perfect hue of turquoise when Loololama cusped my hand to teach me Hopi geometry upon seeing the bracelets of my thoughts in such opulent colors Billie and Frida brought May West and we had a slumber party in the morning Rosa and Harriet took me to church in Aretha’s Pink Cadillac after June and Johnny sang Amazing Grace Bowie said to Lou Reed if she falls from the sky she’ll break her nose all the while Mother Teresa looked to Peter as she wildly agreed and while he did not stomp his feet Archangel Michael was ordered to fly me down and he dropped me off between Normandie and Western
Thursday photo prompt: Monochrome #writephoto
Use the image below as inspiration to create a post on your own blog… poetry, prose, humour… light or dark, whatever you choose, by noon (GMT) Wednesday 8th May and link back to this post with a pingback to be included in the round-up. There is no word limit and no style requirements, except to keep it fairly family friendly.
For visually challenged writers, the image shows an ornately half-timbered house, bowed by the weight of centuries.
All posts will be featured in the round-up on Thursday May 9th at 10am GMT, linking back to the original posts of contributors. Throughout the week I will feature as many of the responses here on the Daily Echo as space allows and (more or less) in the order in which they come in.
You can find all last week’s entries in the weekly round-up. Please visit and read the stories and poems…
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reminiscence
the tenderness in your folds
the secrets that you keep
the closets where i hid
to get away from him
the cinnamon babkas tickled my tongue
while your eyes smiled to hear me
mis-pronounce chicken schnitzel
through my missing front teeth
Wm. Mead, holmes
Photo by Hunter Kerhart
the blinking sun saw
lines weighed with school uniforms
clothes of mechanics
kids pink and purple sneakers
mail boxes stuffed with worry
azures
heaviness in me
holds me down against the earth
my eyes while open
are deprived of your beauty
sinews in my brain toughened
hell hounds sucked bones clean
drowning of thirst for freedom
formidably sad
azures of my soul died away
my tear lands in the shot glass
Pay It Forward Thursday- May 02, 2019
The baristas at Go Dog Go Cafe are big fans of Pay It Forward Thursdays. We think it is a great opportunity to give a shout-out to another writer who has wowed us or creatively inspired us. It a great way to share the love and pass it on to the readers. It also becomes a great pool for excellent reading stuff by your fellow readers of the WordPress community.
You are invited to post one link to one specific post of poetry, short story, or flash fiction, 300 words or less please, from someone else’s blog in the comments below.
Happy reading!
“Do You?”
there are some days when we miss our mother no matter what circumstances might have brought us apart. the spirit of this offering captures the spirit of a woman i admired and loved, but hardly knew. thank you, Jen for this amazing work of art.
saddled shoes, shorts, bandaided knees
running where don’t know, on asphalt jungle chasing
tag your it on summer Nicky Nicky Nine doors clear
nights before the lights came on clean streets beddy-
by dreams Flintstones and Mickey Mouse.
Knee-highed socks and pigtails Camel hair coated,
camel Clarks listening to classical music to
Quell the pain, Barbie got Ken who cared some
war broke out somewhere and a Wall. Three initials JFK
something about bombs from some Niki some
place called Cuba pulling tabs on sodas personal, computers?
JFK shot! killed on Daddy’s Birthday, Marilyn selfy.
Minied skirts and loafers hoping pointed toes lost fashion
settling for Mary Jane empires buckle clips left behind.
Red Skelton, Lucy and Ralph our Heroes while
trading in mood Rings for Ouija boards twisting
through checker watching Go Go Dancers do their thing,
no go bouffant that’s, So, Aunt Jean I’ll do the locomotion,
Duck…
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2 steps
drift to sleep
under the hazy sky
blue cowboy boots
laying down in my truck
Twinkie crumbs
on the corners of my mouth
my left braid coming undone
the memory comes in chunks
hope to sleep
under a halogen light
no shoes or socks
stuffed into the couch
kale smoothie
not on my tongue
my mane’s too tame
the thoughts torn asunder
words less spoken 