Free Verse, Poetry by Sarah

Second Chance

I couldn’t feign love any longer.
Your malformed heart
Had started to infect mine.

Nothing remained
Except the labyrinthine void
Between us.

It was time I left before
The dead-reckoning of our course 
Smashed us both upon the rocks.

I had been a girl with grit back then
– to get out when I did.
Even if my gait had been slow;
Unnatural; a clumsy waltz. 

As I relearned the steps,
I looked around with caution.
Until where once I was torn,
I had been stitched up whole again.

I press my hand to your chest
And feel your heart beating.
I promise you it forever
Be embedded in mine.

By Sarah ©2017

*Labyrinthine – adjective. complicated, torturous, resembling a labyrinth

^ Dead-reckoning – noun. 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.

Prompt: Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie, Saturday’s Mix – 12 August 2017, flashback ; Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie, Wordle #168
Words used: feign, gait, dead-reckoning, torn, press, left, labyrinthine, look, embed(ded), malformed, gritty (grit), (un)natural

Stories by Sarah

No Zen


Image credit Dioga Costta

We met at a local coffee shop. The smell of brewing coffee wafted over to the booth where we sat.

It was my first Tinder date and I was nervous as hell. I gripped my coffee mug with white-knuckled fervour, and looked over at my date.

His profile had disclosed his name was ‘Zen’, he was 35 and played piano; a classical specialist. I had thought to myself before I swiped right, that he obviously befitted his namesake. He was good looking, but almost a little too good looking. One of those guys so well manicured, you suspect they may take longer to get ready than you. At least he matched his profile picture. THAT was a bonus.

I thought of my own profile and cringed inwardly at the zany profile picture and lame attempt at humour. My name is Zahara. Like the desert but with a Z….oh well, he had chosen me too.

“So…” he began awkwardly. The silence was becoming uncomfortable. “Nice day out there.”

Oh gees, I thought, the weather? Seriously!? The cards were folding on this relationship already. My zen Zen’s shiny gold paint tarnishing just a little.

“Yeah, looks like Winter may finally be on it’s way out. So Zen, where do you play?” I asked, trying to steer towards a more meaningful topic of conversation.

He looked at me blankly. “Play?”

“Yes. The piano?”

It was only a micro expression, but I saw the light in his eyes flicker a little and register something, as if recalling a lie. 

“Oh yes, the piano, right! I wasn’t sure if you meant footy. I play here and there, you know how it is.”

Hmmm, nice elusive answer! I noted to myself.

“Anywhere I’d know?” I probed.

“Probably not,” he replied, shutting that line of questioning down. 

I tried again, not willing to surrender just yet. “What do you do for fun?” I enquired. “Do you have any hobbies?”

With that, his face lit up. I looked into his eyes, which were shining bright. Jackpot. I congratulated myself.

“Oh yeessss,” he drawled seductively, “I have very fun hobbies.”

Surprised by the change in his demeanour, I laughed nervously. “Really?” 

“Maybe I should show you?” he murmured suggestively.

I didn’t like his tone, and my face flushed with heat. “Ah. Um. How about you just tell me first.”

“Oh that’s no fun. Want to get out of here?” he asked.

Thinking he meant for a walk, I heard myself agreeing. He paid for the coffee and as we left, he slung his arm around my shoulders. We walked a block or so, when he turned me around, pushed me up against a building and began kissing me. His hand moved to my breast.

Shocked, I pulled my mouth away from his, ripped his grubby hand off me and said, “Hey. I’m not okay with that.”

“What did you think was going to happen?” he said matter-of-factly.

“Not. THAT!” I hissed.

“Come on,” he cajoled. “Why waste time with conversation and coffee when you and I both know this is about sex. A bit of fun.”

He leaned in again but I put my hand on his chest and pushed him away. “I’m not having ‘fun’ and especially not with you.”

His eyes darkened and in that moment, his face looked like a demon. He clearly wasn’t used to hearing ‘no’.

“Well, you’re not really my type anyway, sweetheart. I prefer my woman a little…thinner. A little…prettier. A little…more than anything you’re offering.” he sneered.

His words were cruel and played on every insecurity I had. It was as if he had a window into my mind, poking around my secret shame. Humiliated, my face burned as I pushed him away. Making my escape from him, I couldn’t believe I’d been played, assaulted and insulted, all in the space of half an hour. The dating dream had failed. There was no zen. All I had found was a beast woven to a soul.

No more Tinder for me. Next time I’d leave things to fate.

By Sarah ©2017

Prompt: Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie, Writing Prompt #215 – Stories By 5, Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie, Music Prompt #10, Imagine Dragons – Demons
The five :
Topic – a humiliating rejection
Names – Zen and Zahara
Instrument – piano
Scent – brewing coffee
Verb – surrender

Haiku, Poetry by Sarah

Release

For TJ’s challenge this week, I have reblogged a photo which I feel depicts chaos and order working hand and hand…


an ordered release
rains celebration chaos
upon bride and groom

By Sarah ©2017



Prompt: TJ’s Household Haiku, 13 August 2017 – chaos and order

By Sarah

Image By Sarah ©


This photo is a contradiction of itself. Portraying both order and chaos – the order of everyone releasing their confetti at the same time while conversely, creating chaos with this same release.

I love this photo which was taken at a friend’s wedding in 2012.

Prompt: Weekly Photo Challenge, Task: Share an image that sends chaos packing (neatly).

View original post

Scribblings by Sarah, Stories by Sarah

Best Trip Ever


Image credit Annie Theby via Unsplash

The couple loaded up on snacks, paid for their fuel, and giggled together as they wandered back to their combi van.

This was going to be the best trip ever – they just knew it.

Too bad they didn’t see the masked man who’d crawled into the back…

By Sarah ©2017

Prompt: Only 100 Words, Three Line Tales, Week 80

Scribblings by Sarah, Stories by Sarah

Lost


Image credit by Jane

The crowds were overwhelming. Glaring white floors echoed their multitude of footsteps – not just from the ground level, but also the floors above. I looked up, feeling dizzy as I gazed at the raked ceiling. The pitch of the roof seemed to move and sway around me. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath and tried to focus.

She had to be around here somewhere!

I completed another circuit, trying to see her familiar form. Trouble was, I couldn’t remember what she was wearing that day. Suddenly, I felt a hand on my shoulder.

“I’ve been looking for you everywhere baby girl!”

“Mummy!” I cried, throwing myself into her arms.

She had found me.

By Sarah ©2017

Prompt: Bikurgurl, 100 Word Wednesday, Week 31; Daily Post Daily Prompt, glaring

Haiku, Poetry by Sarah

Mehendi

ancient body art

awakens inner light of

a painted lady

By Sarah ©2017


Author’s Note: Mehndi or “Mehendi” is a form of body art from Ancient India using a paste, created from the powdered dry leaves of the henna plant. Decorative designs are created on a person’s body that are intended to be a symbolic representation of the outer and the inner sun – “awakening inner light”. 

Prompt: Ronovan Writes, Weekly Haiku Poetry Prompt, Challenge #161 – painted and lady

Free Verse, Poetry by Sarah, Scribblings by Sarah

The Flatmate

She was a girl with many layers.
Accustomed to finery.
Reactive when things didn’t go her way.
(She always blamed her hormones).

Any hidden gains; a figment of your imagination.
For connecting with her true self,
Always ended in a gnossienne.
Don’t mistake her imitation for flattery.

She prefers to indulge her naughty side,
And leave you feeling impuissant.
It was a relief when she finally moved out.
Even if she did take half my stuff…

By Sarah ©2017

* gnossienne (noun.) – a moment of awareness that someone you’ve known for years still has a private and mysterious inner life, and somewhere in the hallways of their personality is a door locked from the inside.
^ puissant (adjective.) – powerful, mighty, potent. Antonym – impussiant (unable to take effective action; powerless)

Prompt: Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie, Wordle #167
Words used: layers, finery, reactive, gnossienne, figment, hormones, hidden, gain, imitation, naughty, feeling, (im)puissant

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200

Over the weekend, I hit the milestone of 200 followers! Thank you to those of you who have joined me on this blogging journey. I appreciate the love, support and feedback I have received so far and am so excited to continue ‘WordPressing’ with you all!

Hugs and kisses,

Sarah

Haiku, Poetry by Sarah

Minstrel Heart


Image credit Christian Schloe


words pouring; flowing;

exploring chaos of life

with her minstrel heart


By Sarah ©2017


Author’s Note: I felt bad for cropping her out, so she gets a post of her own (and the challenge has elicited two responses out of me today!)

Prompt: Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie, Special Collage – 6 August 2017; The Syllabub Sea, Haiga Heaven, Challenge 33 – minstrel

Scribblings by Sarah, Stories by Sarah

The Sparrow and The Fox


Image credits Window – Andrey Bobir; Fruit Center – Kevin Sloan


One day, a hungry fox stole some fruit from the tree where sparrow lived. Although the tree was laden with fruit, and she had plenty to spare, the greedy sparrow saw him and gave chase, determined to get it back. She believed the tree and all that was on it, belonged to her.

She flew high above, watching and following, as he ran and ran. Soon the fox grew tired and began to slow. When he stopped to enjoy his prize, the sparrow seized the opportunity and swooped down. 

Just as the fox was about to bite into the juicy papaya, the sparrow tore off a strip from the fruit and spat it onto the ground. The fox looked at the spoiled food, dismayed.

“Why did you do that?” he asked the sparrow.

“Because that fruit is mine, and I’ll do with it what I like,” she replied haughtily.

The fox shrugged his shoulders and went to take another bite. But just as before, the sparrow darted in and tore off more flesh from the fruit, spitting it out onto the dirt.

Undeterred, the fox kept trying to eat. But each time, the sparrow stole his mouthful from under him, preferring to see it rot on the ground, than have another eat it.

Soon, the papaya was gone and the fox remained hungry.

Satisfied, the selfish sparrow flew away. The fox followed her with his gaze, making sure she was fully out of sight before, looking down and smiling.

The spiteful bird was so intent on taking back her fruit, that she had overlooked the most important part. 

She had left the seeds.

And now, the fox could grow his own tree…

By Sarah ©2017

Author’s Note: This story is a little “left-field” and very different to my usual style. I really struggled to incorporate all elements of the prompt, so cropped the lady out of the collage. I took the quote as inspiration for the “layers” in my short story. The piece turned into a type of fable or tale that might be told for story therapy! There is obviously the literal tale, but underneath that, there is metaphor. It could be a tale of someone trying to break someone’s spirit but failing, as long as they have hope. Or a tale of someone who has the world, trying to keep others powerless. What is your interpretation? I’d love to hear it…

Prompt: Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie, Special Collage – 6 August 2017

Scribblings by Sarah, Stories by Sarah

Walkies

The alarm sounds. I open one eye, slap the snooze button and try to pretend it didn’t happen. 

But it’s too late. 

My brain is awake, and more importantly, so are the dogs.

They know what that sound means.

They know their human is rising to meet their needs.

I throw back the quilt cover and my husband moans his complaints, for I’ve let a little cold air into the sanctuary. I mumble apologies but they’re half-hearted really. I’m always hopeful my wonderful partner will come with me. One foot, then the other hits the carpeted floor and I stand; stretching and ironing out the creases of sleep. 

The dogs join me in this ritual. I hear their multi-footed dismount from the bed to the floor. They elongate one rear leg then the other before pulling back onto their haunches. Eyes wide open; expectant and watching my every move.

I dress myself in active wear, wrap a scarf around my neck and plonk a beanie on my head.

This is not what they are waiting for.

As I walk over to my dresser and pull out a pair of socks, their tails start wagging.

Once one sock is on, they move a little closer to where I am.

But when I reach for the runners, they start to turn excited circles; dancing a doggie duet around each other.

They know it is time.

I ask them, just to be sure, “Is it time?”

They start yipping with anticipation.

“Are you sure it’s time?” I tease.

The yipping becomes louder. 

“Is it time for walkies?” I exclaim.

They jump up and down, yelping, “Yes, yes, yes!”

I clip the leads around their neck and off we head into the cold, pre-dawn morning. The icy air blasts my face and wakes me up.

I love this time of day.

Every day.

By Sarah ©2017



Prompt: Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie, Saturday’s Mix – 5 August 2017, routine; Daily Post Daily Prompt, partner