Tea and Ash

A half-remembered dream,
Fitfully had,
Plaque on the mind,
Scrubbed off in the
Sunshine and the rain
That alternates relentlessly
In this New England atmosphere
So far away
From where my heart was burned
In a conflagration
Of my own making,
Because no one breaks your heart
Except yourself,
And I would rather
Ashes
Than
Pieces,
I’d rather
Cinder, unmendable,
Than
Kintsukuroi, golden-veined.

Di(e)chotomy

It seems like most days
Existence is a chore more than a blessing,
Like that last breath would suffice as a finale,
As though this chord poured every inch of effort out of me – a whole blues band contained in that note.

Apple Turnover

Apple, turn over a new leaf,
surcease from grief,
make your peace, your pain release,
you might be diced and stuffed in pastry,
but complaints just have your life now wasting,
better to be tasting the sweet succor in your surroundings,
you’re not a stew,
to brood, your troubles you’re compounding,
resounding and astounding,
the temperament you’re caught in,
caught in the complex that the world would keep on turning,
turn over a new leaf, there’s more for you to see,
the triviality of your grief you ought not believe.

Kintsukuroi

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Auditions Are…Rolling Genome…Middleground

So – I have been keeping up with the Challenge but have been super-busy and under-the-weather. Took a health day today and stayed in bed (and on my computer) working. That “time-off” was well spent in that I now have Days 28, 29, and 30 edited and formatted, just waiting for your perusal! Like in all the other posts, read the play by clicking the title. Hope you enjoy!

A Death Redacted

The title of this post is the name of Day 27’s submission, and I regret to inform you that it’s going to stay private. At least for the time being. It took a bit much to write and deals with some personal issues. I’m writing here to let you know that I’m staying up on the Challenge – with just four days left, it’d be a bummer to drop now. In this play I tried to use the prompt of “No stage direction,” and made it most of the way through until the end, because I don’t know that I could have conveyed the final image without directing the actors: fail on the prompt but win on another play down, right?

Also, letting you know that 31of31 is in the works and coming along nicely. I think I’m going to need to collaborate with someone about this one considering there’s an element to the work that is somewhat beyond me.

That’s all for now, gotta get ready for work,

-Mick

Heart

Anatomy books and cannibals will tell you the heart is one tough piece of meat,
But everyone here knows despite its’ fibreous tissue,
It is not really made of such stern stuff:

It is mosaic cobbling of glasswork held over heat and harboring the cracks of every other inferno it has hovered over before;
It is ceramic suggestion of a plaster cast, a resemblance of what that ticker looked like last;
It is veins and ventricles sketched in charcoal and left in the rain.

An Incomplete Explanation – NaPoWriMo #18

For Taylor, with apologies for being a grouch.

Being in love is:

Nervousness creeping in your fingers, twirling around themselves, trying too hard to keep still and gesticulate at the same time; being afraid that you’ll somehow scare the other person off.

Secreting kisses, pilfered passion, like a tort out a pastry shop from right beneath the baker’s nose, who set them out purposefully, hoping you would come and gobble them up all the while.

Sometimes moving too quickly, despite yourself and your intentions and your mother’s voice warning you about how you wear your heart on your sleeve.

Getting your heart a bit bruised so that you can show your scars to your real love who will love you all the more for them.

Immortality – NaPoWriMo #11

“So, till the judgment that yourself arise,
You live in this, and dwell in lover’s eyes.“-Shakespeare, Sonnet 55

How many times have tapped keys cut the silent night seeking an immortality – because sonnets and scripts have a sorcery to them that hold sway beyond bloodlines brokered, beyond “I do” before God and man and here I find that my seeking has been done for me and my actions cut a path and a swath that signals out in the thumps of heart-throbs of every single jilted lover that I have longed for, abandoned, and been abandoned by.