Carpe Diem #140, Hamaguri (cherry stone clam)

~ 1 ~

springtime joy
toenails in the water
happy as a clam

~ 2 ~

cherrystone clam
opens wide for wasabi
hot time tonight

~ 3 ~

eating clams
chewy rubbery tasteless
I bite my tongue

~ 4 ~

interrogation
stubborn mollusk will not speak
he just clams up

~ 5 ~

cherrystone clams
moose and goose shrug and depart
search for grass and forb

~ 6 ~

empty clamshell
perfect frame for a small web
and a small spider

 

(..)

Carpe Diem #140

Friday Flash 55 - Fun While it Lasts

 Picture found HERE

Fun While it Lasts

The last man on earth sat alone in a room.  There was a knock at the door.

He opened it, and let in the last woman.

“I’m a bitch and you’re an asshole, “ she said, taking off her clothes, “but we’re all we got.”

Things were interesting for a moment.

Then the meteor hit.

~ : ~ : ~

Friday Flash 55

Carpe Diem #139, Shitamoe (sprouting grasses and forbs)

Well, I learned a new word today.  Forb [altenatively spelt phorb] is a category of herbaceous flowering plants that includes clover, sunflower and milkweed.  I also recently learned that milkweed is the only food source for the monarch butterfly.

~ 1 ~

green grass rises
throws off its blanket of snow
stretches toward the sun

~ 2 ~

purple clover
casts green grass in bold relief
a bee buzzes

~ 3 ~

bright golden flower
smiles up at its eponym
on a spring morning

~ 4 ~

drinking green tea
very good for you - alas
tastes like lawn clippings

~ 5 ~

lowly milkweed
such a humble beginning
new monarch rises


~ 6 ~

goose grows sunflowers
moose plays the stock market
both like to read Forbes

~ 7 ~

bugs flit in milkweed
the hopeful insect hunter
spider casts her net

~ :: ~

Carpe Diem #139

VisDare 10 - Whimsey

Today, Angela brings a whimsical picture, indeed.

 Picture Source

What do you make of it?   Here is my attempt, in a minimalist 78 words.

~  : ~  :  ~

Vell, Mr. Goldberg, I know dat zome peoples call me a mad zientist.  But I am really a zuch good outzide-box thinker, no?

Here ve haff my lastest zucsess.  You zee, I haff zpliced jzenes from ze lemming into zees escargots. 

Und off zey go from ze edge, zometimez mit a schplatt.

Zat is vhy I haff you invited here, to zee if ve could maybe collaborate together.

By ze vhey, Mr. Goldberg, may I call you Rube?

3WW CCCXIX

Our three words:
brutal
grope
transfer

Dark. An invitation to the dance macabre.   It's beyond my capacity to make anything nice out of these words.  So - let's get it over quick.

an unwanted grope
a brutal fluid transfer
another conquest

Now I must go scrub my brain with a Brillo pad.

Sensational Haiku Wednesday -- Royal

ROYAL

our first major war
fought to get away from them
royals - revolting

~ : ~

KC Royals team
finished 16 out of first
better luck this year

~ : ~

winning poker hand
royals beat four of a kind
now I'm feeling flush

Carpe Diem #138, Neko no Koi (cats in love)

~ 1 ~

tom on the prowl
fine with any queen he finds
ally cat morals

~ 2 ~

beneath my window
cats make a sound like someone
torturing babies

~ 3 ~

cute little kittens
nasty metamorphosis
grow up to be cats

~ 4 ~

caterwauling
moose and goose escape
deep into the woods
 
~ 5 ~

when cats mate
the spider is grateful
not to have ears

~ : ~

Carpe Diem #138

Carpe Diem Special #25, Onitsura's Spring Haze

Inspirational haiku:

the bell from far away -
how it moves along in its coming
through the Spring haze

I see in this a sense of mystery or confusion and isolation that the haze causes, or loss that it can symbolize.  In the haze, vision is impeded.  It is easy to become separated.  Though other senses may be enhanced, that can muddle the ability to judge time and distance.

 Picture Source

~ 1 ~

wet bell ringing
its distant sound dampened
swimming through fog

~ 2 ~

musical bell
though I cannot see it
has such a peal

~ 3 ~

the belle from far away
how she moves along leaving
through my haze of tears

~ 4 ~

who knows the distance
across the mist-filled space
goose calls out to moose

~ 5 ~

careless butterfly
flits unseeing through the mist
into spider's web

~ : ~

Carpe Diem Special #25

Līgo Haībun Challenge

It's been almost a month since I wrote anything about Marci, and even longer since I've touched on any of her co-characters.  In all honesty, I have no idea where - if anywhere - this is heading.  This week's prompt is a picture of a forest, which could be just about anywhere.

ARRIVAL

The club was quiet that night, but Marci wasn’t bored.  She stayed until closing time, nursing a glass of pinot noir and her own private thoughts.  When she left, instead of getting in her car and driving home, she set off into the woods behind the parking lot. Just a whim, she told herself, though it felt purposeful.

She thought about the time when she was young and had wandered on her own into the other realm, and wondered why she had never tried to do it again.

Until now. 

The woods grew deeper around her and, though the night was warm, goose bumps rose on her bare arms.  She looked up through the dense branches as a whisp of cloud passed over the full moon.

She was then drawn to a shimmering glow behind a large oak tree.  When she stepped around the tree the world flipped and she found herself at the edge of a clearing, standing in several inches of fresh snow as the rising sun filtered through the trees.

A satyr emerged from the trees, and she knew somehow it was the one from the picture in Uncle Albert's desk.

"Finally." he said to her. "We were wondering when you were going to come."

 ~ : ~

lured by memory
across to another realm
meeting destiny

 ~ : ~

217 words

~ : ~ : ~

Līgo Haībun Challenge

 Marci's Thread

Five Sentence Fiction - Empty

Well, I managed to confuse myself a bit.  This FSF entry is inspired by the picture Angela Goff posted along with her FSF entry, and I mistook that for this week's prompt, which is actually the word EMPTY.  Lacking any better excuse, I'll blame it on two glasses of wine.  Here's the picture and my FSF story.

Source

EMPTY

It was a crazy idea for Penny to spend the night in the old, abandoned, empty - well, actually nobody knew for sure what the hell that old place was - with Roger, who she barely knew and didn't even like, but there were drinks involved and a dare from her flighty friends and a double dare, and more drinks, and she was pissed anyway because Brad was gone on a fishing trip, and so shit here they were.

Shortly before dark they pushed the door open on its rusty hinges, found a spot where the floor was relatively clean, and spread out their sleeping bags.

Roger was, if anything, more nervous and upset than Penny, but he was willing to share the sweet heady contents of whatever that stuff was in the flask he brought, so that helped.

When the early morning sun shone full on her face, Penny woke with a start and found herself naked and wrapped around Roger's still sleeping form; and it all came back to her in a rush how she had slipped into his sleeping bag during the night, and how they made love - oh good god three times - and how it was good; really, really good.

She got up quietly, put on her clothes, stole away, and - though they never spoke, or even saw each other again - now, years later, when she thinks of that night, she'll look across the dining room table at Brad and smile.