Never Was

I will not allow
my heart to become
your blank slate

upon which to carve
soothing stories for yourself
of a time and place

that never was.

No matter how
you reject or dismiss
its audacious beat,

the truth roars
in my heart’s blood -
loud, primal -

and drowning out the lies.

Photo by Jon Tyson on Unsplash

Liner Notes For This Groove: This poem was created for the Weekly Scribblings prompt given at Poets and Storytellers United, Writing a Blank. 

The Temptation of Easy

The temptation
of easy is always there,
curling into curves
needing to be filled.

It drops breathy promises
into ears already scarlet
at the thought of the thrill

of how much more smoothly
I can glide over the roughness
if I just ignore a few things.

But it would take a better liar
than I to convince myself
to lay back and close my eyes

when I know action,
my actions,
could make a difference.

Photo by Oliver Roos on Unsplash

Liner Notes for This Groove: This poem was created for the prompt given at Poets and Storytellers United, Between What is Right and What Seems Easy.


I should have smiled less
when the playground monitor pulled me
away. My grin should not have

grown as I was dragged through the halls,
ahead of that boy. That boy who assumed
I wouldn’t challenge him. Funny,

he seemed so sure

that I’d think his insult was flattery
or I’d that do any crying quietly
curled up in a stall.

Funny, his face

filled with more shock than pain
at the sight of my fists underlining my, “no”.
But he got the point. Eventually,

we were both sat down in front of the principal.
And when he asked who started it,
my smile was more damning
than his, “It's all her fault!”.

But I don’t regret an inch
of my smile, showing all my teeth
precisely where they should be.

And it doesn’t matter

how much my father might scold, 
how my mother will fret,
or if I have detention all year.

There’ll be no shame
in these black and blue eyes
next time I look in the mirror.

And my smile will be just as big too.

Liner Notes for This Groove: This poem was created for the Weekly Scribblings Prompt at Poets and Story Tellers United, Painted Tales. I chose "The Shiner" by Norman Rockwell.

Moth and Firefly

Shayla had noticed Lisbet before the woman who ran the dairy farm told her to go mentor the new girl so she could learn how things were done. Shayla had apologized profusely when she realized Madame had only done it so that Shayla could provide distraction while Madame tried to seduce Lisbet’s beau.

“Don’t worry,” Lisbet said. “I was about done with him anyway. She’s welcome to him and his diseases.”

It wasn’t long after that they found they had a shared interest – magic.

“What can you do?” Lisbet asked.

“This.” And in a blink Shayla cast an illusion that blurred her edges so that unless you knew where to look, your eyes would slide over her. “And you?”

“This.” Lisbet said, casting a small orb of glowing light.

The witch trials were coming up. They had both secretly wanted to go for several years now, but it was only upon meeting each other that they decided to do it.

“Nothing stopping us from going as a team,” Lisbet said. Shayla agreed.

They whispered back and forth during the orientation session about what they thought the trials might be. Shayla was sure the witches were dropping hints in their words. A serious faced witch interrupted them to ask for their names.

“I’m Moth. She’s Firefly,” Shayla said.

The witch went away muttering something that sounded like “not likely to hug bears but still silly.”

“It was a little silly,” Shayla agreed later that night in the woods. “But names have power, and I didn’t want to share mine right away. Not until I was sure we’d pass.”

“We will. We’ve got 6 out of the 7 things we need to find with plenty of time left. Why those names?”

“Based on our powers,” Shayla answered. “And one time Madame compared me to a moth because I was a pest.”

“Shows what she knows,” Lisbet said. “We need your magic now.”

Shayla’s magic covered them both as a bear wandered through the clearing, ignoring them.

“My turn,” Lisbet said. Her orb illuminated a mushroom, the last item on the list. “We make a great team.”

“That we do,” said Shayla, following Lisbet back to the cottage and their future.

Song Choice: We Are Going to Be Friends by the White Stripes

Liner Notes for This Groove: This piece of flash fiction was created for the Weekly Scribblings prompt at Poets and Storytellers United, Butterflies and Moths. It was also inspired by the short story I wrote a couple of weeks ago, Witch Trials, just to see if I could find more to say.

Bloody Unusual

uncanny heart
is a lair
for numerous bloody unusual

Liner Notes for this Groove: This poem was created for the Weekly Scribblings prompt at Poets and Storytellers United - Unusual, Uncommon, Uncanny.

Also, on the advice of cleverer poets, a last minute word swap was made which makes it much better IMHO... "several" for "numerous".