Miyazaki Heroine

I.                    Dragonfly

Your cheeky smile caught my eye from the start.

No, nothing like that.

It irked me.

Prodding me from my doubts and self-pity,

insisting I look at life and laugh

when I’d rather retreat.

Your smile won’t allow it.

Your faith in me is an utter surprise,

especially when I have no faith to spare.

You love the things that make me odd,

just when I start wishing I could be something else.

My smallest gifts are miracles in your eyes.

And even when I am tired,

and sure there is no more magic to be found,

I know that for you

for you, I’d find my faith again

and catch you wherever you are.

II.                  Dragon

This journey was unasked for.

Do not meddle in the affairs of kami;

their ways are strange,

and yours are the strangest of all.

Myth given form,

childhood story made real -

Oh no,

I never would have presumed to ask for this.

Silver silken ribbon,

you stand out in the night sky.

Are you lost too?

I am afraid I am not enough sometimes.

I understand only a fraction of the things here.

Everything sane left in me says to doubt you.

Perhaps I’ve been touched by your land too long,

because there’s more in me that says

you have always protected me.

And the only thing better

than being able to say your name,

your true name,

with no more fear and doubts of who you truly are,

is the sound of your voice

saying my true name

remembering,
and at last knowing who I truly am.

Song Choice: A selection of songs from Miyazaki films done on piano. 

This poem is for Magpie's Tales 288

Baggage

Floyd bounded into the shop with all the enthusiasm of a golden retriever after a ball. A moment later, Edna pushed through the door with a sigh. Adorably cozy, from the racks of books to the charming display of knickknacks, it was the exact sort of place Floyd liked to rummage through.

She rubbed her right temple as Floyd started babbling happily to himself. “Here. I’m sure I’ll find what I need here. This place just oozes magic and wonderment.”

“Uh-huh,” she said, leaning back against a bookshelf, almost knocking over the diminutive creatures that had fluttered in behind her. Luckily they had lots of experience dodging her.

“Think he’ll see us this time Pilliwibble?” one sprite said to his companion.

Pilliwibble looked at the two humans. “I don’t get why he keeps doing this. All he has to do is turn around and actually try to see us. Is that so hard Jumblekin?”

Jumblekin shook his head. “He got so close in Sedona that one time. Who knew he’d come all the way to England? Still, it’s nice to travel isn’t it?”

Pilliwibble poked Jumblekin. The shop girl stared right at the two of them. They waved their hands and started juggling tiny items that had been put out on display on the table behind them. Floyd saw none of this, as his nose was buried in a thick tome he found on the shelf. Edna looked out the window towards the clothing boutique across the street, equally as removed from the spectacle.

Without taking her eyes off the two sprites, the shop girl motioned for her manager. She came over took a look at the scene and said, “Oh we get this sort of thing every now and again. Sally dear, just grab a bit of creamer and a scone and set them out by the doll house display. We can at least make them comfortable.”

“What about the sprites?” Sally whispered. They had moved on from juggling to waltzing with some of the antique dolls.

The manager chuckled. “That’s who I was telling you to make comfortable! A snack would settle them right down and keep them out of mischief. I’ll talk to the other two.”

She strode over to Floyd and Edna, “Can I help you with anything?”

Sally went to the back room, poured a bit of creamer into a bowl and then brought it and a blueberry scone out to the doll house as instructed. The sprites flew right over as soon as Sally set them out. Not knowing anything better to say she asked, “So how are you liking England so far? You’re from America, yeah?”

“We love it! Everyone is so friendly,” said Pilliwibble.

“This scone is amazing,” said Jumblekin. “Wish they’d put out a quality spread like this sometime.”

“You mean they don’t?” Sally asked.

Pilliwibble snorted. “They mean well. Well, at least Floyd does. He ‘thinks’ he sees us all the time and tries to put something every now and again…”

“Remember the stale saltines?” said Jumblekin.

“Ugh, don’t remind me. Anyway, he tries and she usually throws things out or eats them herself before we can get to them.”

“Doesn’t he notice?” she said.

“Nope. That has to be the least observant human on the planet. It’s like he knows we’re there but then he isn’t sure. He goes to all these places, reads all these books trying to learn the secret to something or another and just as he’s beginning to be sure all those things he’s read about might be real – bam – something scares him off until the next time he goes looking again.”

“That’s sad,” Sally said.

“Isn’t it though?” Jumblekin said. “My heart is going to break from lack of attention, but a kiss from a pretty girl might make it better.” He blinked large violet eyes at Sally.

“You’ll have to excuse Jumblekin. All the food is making him forget his manners,” said Pilliwibble. “Anyway, we should be going. By the way Floyd is slouching I can tell he’s either seen or heard something to discourage him again. He’ll be heading off wherever Edna wants now.”

Jumblekin said, “I hope it’s Madame Tussauds! I’ve always wanted to see that!”

“The upside to all Floyd’s searching is we get to travel a lot. We’ve stowed away on his baggage at least 17 times now,” said Pilliwibble.

After thanking Sally for the food, the two sprites flitted out behind Floyd and Edna. The manager asked her, “Did you enjoy chatting with our American guests?”

“It’s just so strange. How can someone want so much to see something yet completely look over exactly what it is they want to see?” Sally said.

“Who knows? But on the plus side I managed to sell the little fairy figurine that’s been sitting here for months.”

“The one that looks like it could have been a brother to the sprites that were just here?”

“The very one.”

Song choice: Do You Believe In Magic by The Loving Spoonful 

This story was inspired by the picture prompt at Magpie Tales. 

In Filth

The auctioneer cleared his throat. His assistant scurried forward with a mug filled with rare pu-ehr tea, precisely at the temperature he requested. He was going to need the warmth now that the minor day bidding was done. The first of the featured items had generated a buzz of interest.

“My worthy guests, we are ready to begin the afternoon with the first of our featured items.” He nodded and two assistants, far burlier than the tea bearer, wheeled in a large bathtub. Several appreciative “oohs” came from the crowd. He smiled, feeling invigorated by the energy in the room.

“Lot 117, a bathtub belonging to the most infamous of dictators, Adolf Hitler. As always we have our staff confirm every item we auction, but I can see some of our more discerning guests have already determined its authenticity. Included are the original fixtures, but any specialized services – installation, plumbing – are the responsibility of the buyer. We do offer those, but at a cost in addition to the price of the item. Let us start the bidding at 500,000.”

The auctioneer hid his surprise when a dybbuk nodded to make the opening bid; it didn’t matter what the customer did with the item so long as they were able to pay. Though he imagined the sledgehammer the dybbuk had at its side would be involved.

“500,000. Do I have 550,000?”

A red cap raised his card

“550,000. Would anyone care to go to 600,000?”

 With a soft hiss, a kappa countered with 600,000 only to be countered by a succubus.

“600,000. Do I have 650,000?” When no one responded right away he went on. “I don’t need to tell you what a special item we have here. Most of us felt the residual energy still pouring from it. A human, not only capable of the sheer malice and evil of any demon present here, but with a terrible efficiency that humbles us all. 650,000 might be fine for a simple collector’s item, but think of the energy still capable of being drawn from here! A tool of intimate cleansing belonging to a human yes, but a human whose diabolical reach touched so many more. And the hatred directed at him and all things his adds even more energy. This is not a simple conversation piece but a tool you can use for your own harvesting needs. 650,000 is too little. I know our astute customers would pay 700,000 and call it a bargain. Who shall offer that?”

The bidding went fast after that, the succubus claiming the tub at an even million. She walked up to her new toy, running a well-manicured hand along its length. “Oh yes,” she said. “A million is a bargain indeed. With all the energy this will help me claim I think I shall do quite well.”

Song choice: No Rest For The Wicked by Cage the Elephant

Today's story was inspired by the picture prompt at Magpie Tales

At Second Sight

Never judge a book by its cover. That’s what the boss says.

I suppose as sayings go, it isn’t all that deep. C’mon they’ve got board books and puppets singing catchy songs about it to toddlers. By the time they’re old enough not to crap their pants, they’ve moved on to other things, like look both ways before crossing the street. But it’s still true. You can’t tell by looks who’s going to be a good candidate and who isn’t.

Take tonight for instance. A group of high school girls come giggling up to the fun house. You’d think the one hanging back a bit, the one with a nervous laugh, who looks like she’s about to twitch right out of her skin will be the one who sees. Sometimes, you’d be right, but not tonight. No, it’s the one who seems to be leading the group, acting like the only thing she’s scared of is chipped nail polish. She sees.

Not right away though. She doesn’t notice a thing when I hand her back change for her ticket in – and she shouldn’t because part of what I’m paid for is to look ordinary. But while she’s in there, she sees. She sees something behind the strings holding up the fake zombies. She’ll notice something weird in the reflections in mirrors. She’ll see there’s something not really fake about the fake blood.

And I’ll see it. That’s the other part of what they pay me for. I always see and I always remember the ones who just know there’s something underneath the popcorn smell and peeling paint, whether they want to admit it to themselves or not.

Like I said, it’s a different kind of person every time. You’d think little kids would always see but they don’t. They do have a better chance than the average adult, but that’s no guarantee. And of the adults, sometimes it’s the guy in a business suit, sometimes it’s the gothed out punk. You never know on first sight, but you can see it when they leave, if you know what to look for.

I know. And I tell. Then the boss sends the others to collect. It’s pretty smart when you think about it. Why bother with people who can’t see a damn thing? There’s not even any fun in that. But if you know already who can see? Oh yeah, makes getting what you need a lot more efficient. You know the screams will come easy with them.  

Song choice: I'll Be Seeing You

This bit of flash fiction was inspired by the picture prompt at Magpie Tales.

An Excerpt from Titi Rina's Journal

Anna looks like any other little girl when she’s asleep. It’s funny how in some ways she reminds me of Angela, when she was little. There are so many ways Anna is different from mi hermanita, though energy level isn’t one of them.  I wondered if Anna would stay up all night. But she’s out like a light now.

I thought Angela and Fernando would be the hardest to convince to let her stay over. But they were so thrilled to have an evening to themselves, that it didn’t seem to matter that they normally think of me as strange, and possibly not the greatest role model for their imaginative child. Maybe this was an olive branch from Angela for the years we spent not talking to each other. 

No, it was Yuuki who had difficulty letting Anna stay by herself. I don’t know what I expected Ajani to find when I asked him to investigate the presence I felt, but realizing that Fernando has Japanese ancestors if you go back far enough, and by the way, hundreds of years ago one of them managed to trap a fox spirit into serving them, was a little bit of a shock. Oh and said fox spirit had questions about me. And my ability to protect my own niece.

So yeah, I showed off a thing or two. Magdalena would have been proud. The fox seemed satisfied enough to go with Ajani to Philly tonight, doing whatever fae in a city do.

I guess it’s fair to say I have my doubts about Yuuki too. Yeah, I believe that there's genuine affection there. But I’ve done a little research. How far can a creature known for tricks and general mischief be trusted with the welfare of a child, even when they do mean well?

Anna adores Yuki. Even her taste in cartoons shows that (tonight’s feature was Anna’s choice – some Japanese cartoon where a little girl goes into a fae world with a giant bathhouse at its center).

But does she know this world isn’t as cute as a cartoon one? And that for every Yuuki there are things that don’t care she’s only a little girl and wouldn’t hesitate to cause her harm?

Tonight between cartoons, pizza, and toenail painting I taught her some basics. How to ground, center and most importantly, shield. She took to it quickly, just another fun game for her and her crazy Tía to play. I tucked her in and reminded her to do it again before sleeping because it would help keep nightmares away. She told me she never worried about that before. Yuuki always keeps her safe. And she said she knew that I would too.

It would have been nice to have someone like that when I started seeing and feeling things. It was months before I understood what was happening to me, before I found Magdalena. And it was years before I felt competent enough to deal with it. There was no fox spirit standing at the gate for me to make sure the dead were at least polite when they tried to get my attention.

I’m looking out the window now. The usual assortment of ghosts are there, flitting around, trying to get someone to listen, and annoyed at that heavy shield I have up. I'm grown though, so they’re mostly harmless, just annoying. There’s one, a little bolder than the others, who is floating right at the edge of my shield. When she noticed me looking, she put a finger to her lips.

I don’t know if Anna has a hard time sensing the dead, the same way I have a hard time sensing fae, but I don’t feel like finding out now. I let them know that for tonight at least, I’m not taking any visitors, even the ones I do know, no matter how quiet they promise to be.

But I think I’ll check on Anna one more time before I go to sleep.

Song Choice: Dragon Boy from the Spirited Away soundtrack

This bit of flash fiction was written as a response to the picture prompt given by Magpie Tales. For previous stories about Anna and Yuuki, check here. 

Hallowed Be Thy Flip Flops

The door shut behind him. Sal realized how poorly the water company uniform fit him. He crossed himself as the imposing woman glowered at him.

“You are not the Mother’s Helper I requested,” she said.

“You – you said come in. When I knocked. You told me to.”

Her hair billowed around her, though there wasn’t a trace of breeze in the air today. The same enigmatic wind held up the see-through pink cloth doing a poor job of hiding her butt. A pair of dollar store flip flops finished her look. For a second, her boobs were hidden by the canister vacuum cleaner she held, but when she turned to look at him everything was in full view.

Had Sal not been petrified, the word MILF might have come to mind.

“What is your purpose here? Be quick about it! I have a full afternoon ahead of me and an even longer evening.  I can’t afford lengthy interruptions.”

“I, um, I…” Sal strained to remember what he wanted to say.

A small child floated into the room, outfitted similarly to his mother but his cloth streamed out behind him like a cape. He was contemplating an action figure held in his chubby fist until he saw Sal standing at the threshold. “No poems can please for long or live that are written by water drinkers.  Horace,” the child said.

A second child swooped in, this one holding a torch as well as an action figure. “In the world there is nothing more submissive and weak than water. Yet for attacking that which is hard and strong nothing can surpass it.  Lao Tzu.” He flew at his brother with the action figure in front of him. The two started rough housing in midair.

“Boys!” The Mother dropped the vacuum and grabbed them both by the cape. The wriggling children didn’t seem too bothered by this and continued to mash their figures into each other until the Mother took the toys and the torch from them.

One child pouted, looked at Sal and said, “Heavy hearts, like heavy clouds in the sky, are best relieved by the letting of a little water. Christopher Morley.”

Sal remembered why he came and blurted out. “I’m here from the water company. I need you to turn off all your water so that I can check your pipes.”

The halo around the Mother flared, blinding Sal for a moment.

The children’s giggles broke the silence. “Three groups spend other people's money: children, thieves, politicians. All three need supervision. Dick Armey,” one said.

“In a closed society where everybody's guilty, the only crime is getting caught. In a world of thieves, the only final sin is stupidity. Hunter S. Thompson,” the other said.

“Oh for the love of Me! Really? REALLY? Do I look like someone who would fall for a scam like that? Ugh! I don’t have time for this!”

The Mother pointed at Sal and an action figure clattered to the ground where he once stood.

One of the children picked up the new action figure and floated to the Mother, laying a hand on her shoulder. “Time is a game played beautifully by children. Heraclitus.”

She took the figure from her son and smiled. “Oh, I guess it’s not like Elpis has not seen a disordered house before. I can be a little late to that earthquake.”

Her other child nodded, “A mother is a person who seeing there are only four pieces of pie for five people, promptly announces she never did care for pie. Tenneva Jordan.”

Sal said, “Pie…um, pipes, um… yeah, you know I think your pipes are OK ma’am. I’ll just go now…”

The Mother smiled. “No."

This story is based on the picture prompt given by Magpie Tales 257

Magpie Tales 250

This post is a response to the prompt given by Magpie Tales

Impertinent!

The questions you ask me.

The ones you make me ask myself,

With your hair caressed by spring skies,

and lips

capable of setting Antarctica aflame.

I have no answers to why it should be so.

Why me? Why this magic?

But to your question,

"How would I like to be kissed?"

Often,

fiercely,

if you please,
impertinently.

LOL, I wasn't sure I was going to participate this week.

I always feel a tad silly writing love poetry

Magpie Tales Nov 30 2014

This is my offering inspired by the current prompt over at Magpie Tales

There are bits of me hidden from myself.

I’m sure you’ve noticed them too;

but you don’t mind it.

And now your mystery is woven into mine.

I like that very much.

Do you mind the strangeness?

Odd… shouldn’t I be bothered by this?

And even more oddly, I don’t think I care,

about those things we can’t see yet.

And all that is regular, reasonable,

rational,

fades into nothing

against Love’s chaos.

Another Bite

This is a post for Magpie Tales' blog challenge. This is my first trying this out, and I'm not much of a poet, so I apologize in advance.

The picture at Magpie Tales that inspired this entry

Another bite…

It’s so small really.

Barely enough to make a meal of.

Another bite…

These spoons are so tiny.

You can hardly call these proper mouthfuls at all.

Another bite…

Don’t stop, you’ve had a good deal already.

What’s just a small taste more?

Another bite…

That gurgle is your stomach hungry for more.

There is no acid creeping up your throat.

Another bite…

But they have all gathered here! Just for you!

See! The candles have been lit for this moment.

Another bite…

Complaints? Those would be rude.

There will be none of that.

Another bite…

Do you really think you can stop it now?

Do you really think you can leave it so easily?

Another bite…

See? It’s not too terrible.

You’ll get used to the taste soon.

Just…

Another…

Bite…