“This week: Your writing invitation is to choose one of the 24 Forms for your poem. You can use the kigo words and phrases from the Part I challenge post HERE, or from the 500 Kigo Words you can use the phrases I’ve created below are three kigo phrases for the Northern Hemisphere. Use one kigo phrase in each of your three poems in whatever order you’d like.”
Linda has had a busy and tiring week but she has still managed to come up with our weekly SoCs prompt: “Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “loan/lone.” Use them any way you’d like. Bonus points if you use both. Have fun!”
Here we go again the idiosyncrasies of the English language again. Two words that sound the same and yet mean vastly different things in both English english and American english. Linda has given us Loan and Lone to play with this week. A loan is really anything borrowed as in money, tools, equipment,clothes ect? All loans need to be payed back. If you take a loan from a business you often have to payback with interest, eg, a mortgage , bank loan or even worse a private loan. If a loan is for a family member it comes with no interest and occasionally it’s written off ( well that’s how hubby and I view it) .
God looked at Gaia and said “We loaned them this planet and now it’s near dead.” Gaia cast her eyes down “They’ve not made any repayments” she frown. “Why are they so selfish, these creations of mine? Did I give them too much forgetting to teach them to tow the line.” “I think you have made a mistake You have let them take take take.” God looked sad and said “I don’t mean to moan “ Raising her hand Gaia said “Call in the loan “
*****
Then there is Lone as in Lone Wolf, Lone Ranger, as in alone, to be one to travel, live or work singularly.
The lone animal separated from the pack or the herd is easy prey to the hunter, man or creature. Most animals hunt in packs though of course there are those who hunt alone.
The dog walks through the town he’s been on his own for months now he’s tired of being alone. Tired of dodging kicks stealing food and having no one to love. As the sunsets he find the beach.
A lone man stands on the beach All goals and hopes smashed and out of reach. Job, family, love and home.The bottle’s content is his only friend. He’s cold and tired, lost all hope, The sun sets , he’s at the end of his rope Water laps his feet, tears burn his eyes he cannot cope. Emptiness eats his soul the pain is deep like a cancer he is lonely. A wet nose touches his hand, a lone dog is standing by him. They turn away from the water and man and dog walk into the sunset together, not alone towards a new dawn.
Dan Antion has invited us to take part in “The Forth Annual Thursday Doors Writing Challenge which officially began on Wednesday, May 1st. The challenge runs the entire month of May. You can submit as many entries as you like. If you want to join the fun, pick a door, write a story, poem, novel, screenplay, musical score – anything at all – as long as it’s inspired by that door image. The completed entries and images to use are in the gallery on Dan’s page along with the Rules .
I have written a little “prosetry” an almost story/ almost poem about a hungry Vampire. Can you see her in the shadows?
In the shadows she stands jealously watching those who walk in the sun. Fingers ripping at her skin,slowly her blood drips down her white face. Longingly, she weaves her dreams where her hopes are spun. Watching those who live in the light, her thoughts so dark. She wants their bodies, she craves their souls She needs their blood and to devour them whole. Her eyes searching for a victim to lure To infect a victim, her motives unpure. She watches as a young man walking home. The burning ache deep within her drives her to distraction. She aches for him, she burns for him she cannot find satisfaction. Blood lust makes her bold and brazen she steps out of the shadows to catch his eye. He moves towards her in the shadows Excited by what he sees. Her body barely covered by her cloak. Attracted by her jet black eyes and her skin so white His juices rising from deep within …a desperate need to taste her. Come, she whispers licking her lips He slides his hands along her hips She acts all soft and coy Moving her body into his, he’s suddenly filled with joy. He thinks she likes him, that he will have his way Unsuspecting he follows her deeper into the shadows. Away from human hustle and lights they move away The danger lights should be flashing , the warnings he refuses to see Too busy to notice her eyes change colour and her lips flush blood red. She lets him slip inside of her she still likes to feel desired She lets him reach his highest delight, as her fangs sink in his neck. She sucked him dry and for a second mourned before leaving him for dead.
Hello and welcome to M.M.M.M. this week we are to go with a Latin signature! So to start with I am going to include a poem I wrote back in December 2012
I need to Tango Tango, I mean the whole fandango. I need to strut and and grind I need to Tango. I need to step and side step I need to spin and twirl I maybe in the body of an older woman but at heart I am still a girl.
I need to meet the eyes of dark haired man. I need him to hold me to him, to move me , he can can can! I need the high heels I need a red dress I want the rush I need the sex I know I will blush blush blush!
Google Image
I want to Tango Tango I need to dip and angle I need to sway, and over, a strong arm to dangle. I need excitement I need distraction I really crave satisfaction, action action action!
I need to fondle and be fondled. I need to excite and be excited OH! I need to Tango Tango I need to see a man go wild and spin me off my feet. I need to Tango Tango I want to tell everyone so I shall tweet tweet tweet!
I need to Tango Tango in a new dress and some spangols !I need to glide and swirl I need to to pretend and in my head be a dizzy dizzy girl !
And now the music .
.
.
.
Monday’s Music Moves Me is sponsored by Marie, Cathy, Alana, and Stacy, so be sure and visit them, where you can also find the Linky for the other participants.
This week Colleen says. :”Here we are at the end of April! Where did the month go? As NaPoWritMo winds down, I hope you’ll write some syllabic poetry with me.
This week for #TankaTuesday we’re in the second week of the season of Grain Rain as we follow the 24 Seasons of Japan. The dates are based off of the lunisolar calendar, often called an agricultural calendar. The traditional Chinese and Japanese lunisolar calendar divides a year into 24 solar terms.“
Our Invitation:
I’ll give you the hokku portion for the Northern & Southern Hemispheres, and you write the wakiku portion. (I’ll add the kigo words to the hokku). See below ⬇️
BONUS: After you write the wakiku in reply to my hokku, please add your own hokku (haiku) on your post. In the comments on your post, I’ll add the wakiku portion.
Colleen’s Hokku “an empty attic the sound of April showers thunderous rumblings”
My Wakiku”I sit wrapped in a blanket mother made from summer stars.’
My Hokku“night sky was red spring is waining, summer waits dawn omens bode well .”
Colleen’s Wakiku “from the shoreline, a wolf howls welcoming in a new day”
I originally wrote this post and all the posts I have done over these last days of April Child Abuse Awareness Month over 11 years ago… NOTHING HAS CHANGED.
Today is the last day of April and I have to say I am glad. Everything I have researched, everything I have written about Child Abuse has made me sick and sad! Children are our future a singer once sang, but he had, had his childhood stolen and he became a strange and sad man and he is not the only one.
Yes children are our future but at this rate do we have one. Children are mistreated , abused, sold down the river in every single country under the sun. The poems I have written have all been stories but are all based on facts I researched. The things that are done to children, some beaten black and blue. Married off at eight or nine or sold in to slavery too, girls cut and sewn up simply to please men, young boys dressed as girls and taught to dance bought and owned by “Pious” men and used for sex after they have watched them prance.
Children in refugee camps prisoners of war…so many wars in this world so many refugees. This video is about Syria but it could be any war at the moment. How can they grow up normal?
Children and young people bullied at their school, harassed by phone and internet just for not being this weeks “cool” Young girls taken out of school and trained to be prostitutes the younger they are the better for old men who like them best if they are cute. Stolen from their village and sent as slaves to other lands worked to death and beaten or used for sex acts and killed when it all gets out of hand.
Forced to watch their parents, their homes and friends destroyed, tortured and burned or maimed. They get dragged off into the jungle as boy and girl soldiers to be trained. Young girls get used as wives, still fight until their babies drop then they carry them into battle on their backs to machetes in hand, kill people and set fire to bodies, villages and crops.
Young girls about to take their GCSEs go on holidays to their parents homelands for pre exam treat have no idea they are off to their future husbands meet. Ripped from all they have known a normal western life suddenly to become a stranger’s wife and live a poverty stricken village strife
Children, abused and battered, some physically some mentally , sexually used from an early age . What chance have they got their heart so full of rage. Some will become abusers for abuse is all they know, some will with help flourish and try to teach it should not be so.
No doubt there are more ways that children get abused, some parents even abuse their own children, sexually or with the fist, these will be the fathers who boast that their little girl is sweet sixteen and never been kissed! The otheres will be mothers’ who force or sell their children however much those children resist. Or push their children to be models, beauty queens or actors to fulfil their own ambitions.
Or seeing your mother beaten until she is hospitalized , living in fear of being next until your humanity dies.
I know that I am ranting but as these tears fall from my eyes there are children out there starving, freezing , hurting, bleeding, screaming , pleading, broken , humiliated and every so often one of them dies. Actually lots of them die. Don’t worry, you can close your ears and eyes … it is too late for me now I have learnt the who’s and whys. Sadly Abuse breeds Abuse and many mental illnesses.
I have to stop writing now , but I promise I shall not stop shouting out because I have just started now. I have written more but I haven’t the heart to print anymore now.💜
Just because I am not the same Is fair that I’m the butt of their game. Every day I dread school Because it is always me that they treat cruel.
OH! I hate each and every break That’s when my loneliness over takes. It is no fun to be the one everybody picks on, They mock me with voices singsong. Rip my clothes and trash my books All through class they give me dirty looks.
Sometimes they follow me home, Why won’t they just leave me alone. It doesn’t stop there, not all. As soon as I get in they start to call and send texts to my phone. Swearing taunting calling me names They enjoy playing these games.
I tried to fight back I tried to reason But I can’t do anything to please them. I tried to tell the teacher but she was not listening So they shoved my head down the toilet and gave me a christening!
I feel that it cannot get worse Then someone goes and takes my purse. For fun and good measure they give me a hearty beating Leaving me bruised and bleeding.
Sitting here in the hall crying No one stops or cares that I feel I’m dying. So I walk home hurt and grieving All hope gone nothing left to believe in.
Mum and dad, have done their best. They’ve begged the school to ask the gang to give me a rest. Every day it is relentless it goes on and on. Nothing happens nothing is done They hurt me and think it’s fun.
I have had enough I can’t go on, Harassment on my laptop has now begun. Another way for them to torture me I can’t stand it, let me be. “NO YOU BASTARDS I have had enough I will not take anymore of this stuff. I have got a piece of strong rope I have written you all a neat note. So round my throat I knot this rope I am sick of you all I really cannot cope. Sorry Mum and Dad dont cry You did your best, I love you ….bye.
~~~~~~~~
Children are now bullied so badly at school even when they get home they cannot escape because the bullies abuse them via, their phones and computers. What have we become when our children can hound each other to suicide just because they look or act or speak differently?
Can’t you stop that child crying he is doing my head in! He goes on and and on incessant crying there’s no bloody peace and that smell gets in to your skin.
Shut up! Shut up!! will you shut up your driving him up the wall. You scream, he nags the blame’s always laid at my door. You won’t eat you won’t sleep shut up I don’t know what to do at all! Stop, Stop my head hurts , now look I’ve knocked you to the floor.
Be quiet, be quiet, ssh! he really needs his rest . He has to be up up for work he doesn’t realize I am doing my best. Here drink this bloody bottle ..what now is it too hot ! Okay, okay if you don’t want to feed you can stay there in your cot!
Be quiet, please please be quiet will you settle now , stop stop !! If you don’t let me change this nappy I just won’t bother …….. now. OH! for goodness sake will you stop that noise why can’t you be like other babies bundles of cooing joys?
ARRRRRGH! I can’t take it any more shut your bloody noise stop, stop I am sick of you………… there that shut you up.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Covering up her baby the young woman walks away, silence, golden silence she has not had that for days. Memories flood in to her head, her mother screaming at her, screaming in her face and being hungry and cold in her bed.
The vows she made the love she craved, the mistakes she’d said she’d never make. OH! no she’d been just like her mother again she’d shouted at and hurt the babe. But what was she to do. She has no idea of what to do with a baby, three of them in this squalid, two room flat, living hand to mouth would drive anyone crazy.
She goes back in the room the baby is silent still. Yet he does not look right …. something does not look good is he breathing ? It is hard to see in this light. Bending down she picks him up …ah! yes at least he is breathing . Gently now and quietly she takes him into their room her boyfriend’s asleep now she prays that neither will stir for any time soon.
There is dirty washing everywhere, the cupboards are bare of proper food she sits there hugging baby tight ( too tight) silver light from the TV flickers and to it she is glued.
Where is the help these children need where is the help they were promised. It is quiet now but that will not last, will someone take away their baby and will these older children be admonished . Will some one end the circle of abuse.
willowdot21 