The Road That Makes Us

https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2017/08/14/wordle-168/

Feign; Gait; Torn; Press; Left; Labyrinthine adj. complicated, torturous, resembling a labyrinth; Look; Embed; Malformed; Gritty; Natural; Dead-reckoning (In navigation, dead reckoning is the process of calculating one’s current position by using a previously determined position, or fix, and advancing that position based upon known or estimated speeds over elapsed time and course.)

A malformed heart

Made for awkward gait,

But felt natural to her

As she made her way

Here and there; pressing on

By near-fatal dead-reckoning,

Through labyrinthine life.

She feigned mute courage,

Gritty strength, till it solidified,

Set—armor real and true;

Kept a scowling look at the ready…

Frown more than failing acuity’s view.

For, embedded in torn cardiac chambers

Where pulse keeps up resilient beat, was

Verbal shrapnel left from monsters masked

To hide murderous weapons of menage.

Sixty decades’ journey, wanderer’s path—

Gains, losses; pain, victory; faith which

Couldn’t be rent by ill winds, human

Treachery—offered an “in spite of”

Nurture, God’s seed flowered late.  A

Night Blooming Jasmine blossomed within

Unfathomable dark, deep buried beneath.

Her petals drip sparks, iridescent lights shine

For a certain few strangers who see that smile…

Not entirely extinguished, after all.

©Jael Sook, 2017 All rights reserved.

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Hoarfrost, Legacy of Shame

https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2017/07/03/wordle-161-2/

Absolute; Precede; Blip; Cabal (n))  a small group of secret plotters, as against a government or person in authority. the plots and schemes of such a group; intrigue. a clique, as in artistic, literary, or theatrical circles.); Paper; Asomatous (adj.)) Having no material body.); Hum; Stand; Above; Item; Opaque; Fremdschämen (v)) To feel ashamed about something someone else has done. )

~~~~~

The mother wore Fremdschämen

Like a locket beneath her blouse…

Unholy item, yet somehow sacred, an

Amulet warm against her opaque heart

Which—cut by her perfect hand from heavy 

Paper mysterious—made no hum, nor recorded a

Blip as she coldly stepped around, removed

From, her daughter—first-born child.

What shame had the girl brought on her?

Life-long enigma, this (held in confidence

Reserved only for the girl’s brother, the prince

Who looked to be his sister’s twin); though not

A figment of her imagination.  It was as

Absolute as the mother’s stone visage, had

Perhaps preceded the girl’s birth…how would she

Know?  But she felt its substance, an asomatous

Hatred standing above her every moment, waiting

For merest opportunity to demean, humiliate,

Castigate her with fearsome angry words which

Rang like razor-sharp clawed blows, stripping

The skin from small nebulous soul.

Time passed, the inexplicable cruelty grew

Heads and limbs, a monstrous entity which

Formed a shunning cabal—mother and

Siblings communicating secret looks—

From which the girl was silently excluded.

So it would remain…this unexplained, and wordless

Mutual agreement—banishment to tundra. 

Death claimed the mother, who bequeathed

The girl nothing…not one lone loving,

Or last remorseful, thought.

By then, the girl’s center had iced over—

Tears of wounding, grief, buried beneath

Decades of hard-packed snow, hoarfrost…

Incapable of loving, she wore the

Mother’s hand-me-down frowning rime.

©Jael Sook, 2017 All rights reserved.

Image credit: Pixabay

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Polly, from Forgotten River

https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2017/07/17/wordle-164/

Climb; Vague; Sadness; Perish; Pangs; Nepenthe (n.)) A drug or drink, or the plant yielding it, mentioned by ancient writers as having the power to bring forgetfulness of sorrow or trouble. anything inducing a pleasurable sensation of forgetfulness, especially of sorrow or trouble.); Neolithic; Four; Offhand; Reappear; Sallow;  Abdicate (v)) to renounce or relinquish a throne, right, power, claim, responsibility, or the like, especially in a formal manner ).  Use at least 10 of the words to create a story or poem.  The words can appear in an alternate form.  Use the words in any order that you like.  Tag: Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie and Wordle.

It was no doubt the nepenthe

Polly ‘secretly’ swilled at 10, 2,

And Four, in her warm Dr Pepper*,

That had turned her rose milk

Complexion sallow; made her

Soft mind go vague, prompting

Murmured offhand non sequiturs.

She had all but abdicated Life;

Climbed backward into hull of

Heart full-broken by less suave

Swain, who swept what small

Sense she might have possessed

Into barn loft’s fallen hay….

Now ‘n again, you’ll see her

Reappear—near-ghostly figure

Of abject sadness—penning

Pitiable lines when pangs of

What she can’t-quite-remember

Assail her with longings to bury

Guilt (murky), and perish beside

Forgotten River…where neolithic

Stones sometimes still glitter.

©Jael Sook, 2017 All rights reserved.

*In the 1920’s and ’30’s Dr Pepper advertised its soft drink by that name, with a slogan to “drink Dr Pepper at 10, 2 and 4 o’clock…”

Image credit: Pixabay

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Toppling Cultures

https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2017/07/10/wordle-163/

Bird, Cassette, Trail, Bohemian, Warrant, Nascence (adj.)) Beginning to exist, develop.), Chide, Illusory, Everywhere, Topple, Clinch, Insouciant (free from worry, concern, anxiety)

Times of neo-conventional bohemian

Insouciance…followers wear illusory

Utopian philosophy that nothing

Should ever be clinched too tightly—

Not apparel, morals, long-borne beliefs, nor

Tie-dyed relationships as whims should fancy,

Varied and colorful as tropical birds.

They leave their scent trails everywhere

Jasmine, musk, nouveau-health’s cuisine;

Fresh nascence of what they warrant is

True-original…as it ripens to sweetish-sick

Incense of dying…strains of song

Lingering from broken cassettes.

The old guard, how they lecture, chide;

Preach from self-ordained pulpits of

Polished pride—against frangible

Culture doomed to topple; as if any—

Bizarre beaded or buttoned down;

Mere men with, without, recorded

Merit—will somehow get out of

Self’s destruction alive.

©Jael Sook, 2017 All rights reserved.

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Flimsy Love, Carefree Highway

https://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/2017/05/20/wordle-300/

Like faded paint down middle of highway,

Stilted messagethree flimsy lines

To trace adventures, truck trips we made,

Wild wonder on the run

How could you condense those times?

Season of invincible youth—hope and

Dreams grasped in both hands—hearts

Near-bursting with untamed joy…

We’d sing the shine off the sun;

Pray half-saved prayers that the

Old tires would hold, bald as

Eagles soaring up and far and

No way back…

You left it on your pillow,

Wrinkled notebook page torn:

“We had fun—

 You thought it was love,

But what can I say— ”

©Jael Sook, 2017 All rights reserved.

Image credit: Pixabay

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Glenda Gladiola’s Pies

https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2017/06/26/wordle-161/

Insulin; Posture; Shake; Suffer; Cloudburst; Immure (v.)) to enclose within walls. to shut in; seclude or confine. to imprison. to build into or entomb in a wall. obsolete. to surround with walls; fortify.); Hereafter; Slovenly; Radiate; Gladiola; Restaurant; Galimatias (n)) Nonsense) (A secret that must be kept on pain of death. )

Use at least 10 of the words to create a story or poem; The words can appear in an alternate form; Use the words in any order that you like.  Tag: Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie and Wordle.  Click the link above to participate.

Every day, folks meet at the Gladiola Restaurant.

Amid the murmuring of repeated and ignored galimatias,

They eat Glenda’s excellent pies…with an insulin chaser.

Glenda’s pies are just that good; well-worth suffering diabetes,

And even dying for—they declare with nervous laughter.

Glenda says the Good Lord has already given her His okay that

Her pies will be served at Heaven’s table in the Hereafter

And furthermore, that her late husband, Porter, is

Up there getting the kitchen organized properly.

Although everyone goes along with her, to be polite,

Many hold the opinion that it’s unlikely Porter’s soul went

North—if so, God was surely scraping

The bottom of the barrel for saints.

Porter Gladiola had had the posture of a storm before

Cloudburst—all balled up and ready to take offense at

The least unintended slight or provocation.

His mental issues caused him to shake—forever

Agitated about something, whether angry

Or greatly anxious, no one really knew.

He was as slovenly as Glenda was clean and tidy; but

Mostly he was merely a difficult, disagreeable, sad man.

The last year of his life, he’d immured himself in the

Upstairs bedroom, wouldn’t see anyone but his wife—

And then one day he was dead, permanently gone.

Glenda radiated peace at his funeral…

And perhaps a bit of Glory’s freedom.

As to what had taken Porter, we all guessed it was

Complications of diabetes.

Glenda shrugged, and with a wan smile, told how

Rhubarb pie had always been Porter’s favorite—and that

All of a sudden, it hadn’t agreed with him anymore.

But there was something in her expression—the curious

Sparkle in her cornflower blue eyes as her thin lips

Trembled—that caused more than one person to

Suggest we’d best avoid “Porter’s Pie” from now on…because

Really, can you ever be fully certain you know anyone?

©Jael Sook, 2017 All rights reserved.

Image credit: Pixabay

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Angel At Dead Man’s Curve

Rooted in a patch of Heaven’s dust,

An angel is stationed unseen, between

Dark draped folds of road’s midnight curve.

Foolish youth, heart tattered after first-

Love’s disappointment, drives drunk

On winding single lane beneath

Sky’s spill of unlashed stars.

Sly delusion, Invincibility

Presses pedal, accelerating speed.

Spun-crystal moon shimmers, blinks

As car hurtles off sheer cliff…

The angel snatches driver Home

To God’s arms, instead of fiery chasm.

©Jael Sook, 2017 All rights reserved.

https://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/2017/06/24/wordle-305/

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