Josephine Calls

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Cheat

Write a new post in response to today’s one-word prompt.

Clyfford  Still

Death came for her, as she knew it would on a day drenched with sunlight, with her gut full of wine and her lungs clounded with cigarette smoke

Death stood next to her and shook it’s shrouded head. ” I really don’t want to be here.”

Josephine took a long hard drag on her cigarette. ” Tough.”

Death pulled it’s shroud away from it’s face and Josephine tried to pretend to not be shocked to see it was a woman- her hair was long and dark and her eyes glowed deep and orange- like a wolf’s.

” That’s a nasty habit you’ve got there Josephine. All that drinking and smoking in bed. You’re lucky you never fell asleep and burned your house down and killed everyone in it.”

” Well. I didn’t.”

” I know, I wouldn’t take you. It didn’t seem right.”

Josephine reached for her journal and began to write in it.

” I mean Josephine, you firebombed your way through life- all that deceiving you did. You betrayed and lied to your friends, your family people you knew for only five minutes.  You even stole most of the stuff you’ve written.” Death tapped the top of Josephine’s journal. No way was I going to let you skate out of this life into the next. Some of the people you wrecked are on the other side. They deserve a break from you for as long as possible.”

” That’s not your choice to make.” Josephine narrowed her eyes and pointed.

Death looked towards Josephine’s nightstand and saw the empty pill bottle.

” Oh. I see.”

” I’m done. I’ve lived. I’ve loved-”

Death snorted and turned her face to the window.

” I’m tired and old and I am done.”

I can see that Josephine. You got me. Close your eyes or don’t. The choice is yours.”

Death swung her scythe and  up into the air and as Josephine’s eyes lit up and Death let it sail over Josephine’s head.

It landed on Josephine’s shoulder.

” What the Hell!”

” I can be merciful, I can be cruel and most people think I cheat. Well guess what. I don’t. I do exactly what I’m supposed to do. So here’s the thing. You just keep being your fantabulous self Josephine. You keep cheating your way through life and when I come for the people who you’ve cheated- and there are so many of them out there that you will screw over, I’ll get called a lot of things by them in their end. But cheat won’t be on their lips.”

” Stay alive Josephine. You just keep on breathing.”

” I won’t!” Josephine screeched through a haze of smoke ” You come back here! I can’t take this anymore!”

Joaquim Mir

Joaquim Mir

Death left Josephine’s house and was dragging  the business end of her scythe along side her on the sidewalk when a man and a woman holding hands stopped her under a tree.

” We owe you. We owe you big.” the woman whose hair was tied back with a red ribbon said.

Death agreed and  looked at the man who wore a soft blue workshirt. ” Yeah. Okay. We do.”

Death dropped her head forward and her hood fell over her face. ” I want a horse. Everyone thinks I have one. ”

” Deal.”

And they parted ways under the blue sunlit sky full of sunlight and the sounds of a woman with a smoke worn throat screaming from all around them.

Ode To A Drowning

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Poetry, Day Three: Friend

Whether it’s about a time they saved your life or a moment when they disappointed you, write today’s poem about a friend: a person, an animal, or even a fictional character that’s close to your heart. You could also address a group of people, or an object that represents friendship for you.

 

Paul Klee
Paul Klee

 

The boat we sank was old

trusty, rusty and worn

We took her out, we cut her deep

and we let her sink alone

 

One of us could have turned back

and stayed with her until her end

One of us could have watched her drown

but we closed our eyes instead

 

When the mist crawls from the Sea

and visits us in our sleep

We tell ourselves it was all dream

dawn will set us free

 

But the Sea was real

and she did drown

and we all watched her die

We stood safe, we closed our eyes

and denied our heartless deed.

 

This is our punishment, our endless nightmare now:

 

Our eyes will never open

We will never leave that shore

We will always exist  in that moment

when we let our friend sink alone.

 
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Muscle Over Bone

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Poetry, Day Two: Face

For today’s poem, take a single face you know as your point of departure. It doesn’t even have to be a real-life, flesh-and-blood face you’re writing about. Faces are everywhere in the texture of our daily lives: from portraits in the museum to the banknotes in our wallets, and from billboards and street art to online profile pictures.

the-three-skulls

What we are is wrapped in skin

muscle over bone

We are our words we are our deeds

not

muscle over  bone

Vilhelm Hammershoi

Vilhelm Hammershoi

We hide behind our faces

our lips, our eyes our tongue

We are guarded, masked,  hidden

by muscle over bone

1866c Still Life with Skull and Candlestick oil on canvas 47_5 x 62_5 cm Private Collection

What Do You Want To Be For Halloween?

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Write a new post in response to today’s one-word prompt.

Obvious

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-Vilhelm Hammershøi

” What are you going to be for Halloween Morna Glenn? ”

Morna sat by candlelight and sighed. ” I don’t know Francie. What do you think?”

Their sitting room was dark, the house was dark and it was darker outside-even though the Moon was full and the sky was packed with stars.

Francie lit another candle. ” You could be a witch.”

” Again?”

” A Zombie? ”

Morna rolled her eyes up and shook her head.

” I know, be an Elf.”

” What the Hell do Elves have to do with Halloween?”

Francie forgot she had a lit match in her hand and it hissed as it burned it’s way to her fingers.” Oh no. Not that kind of Elf. Not the Christmas kind. ”

” The ones that make cookies?”

” Never mind. Oh wait. I know. Be a Vampire.”

Morna put he face to the table and pounded her forehead against it- hard enough to make the candles dance.

” Ugh.”

” Listen Morna. You have to be something. I’m going to be a butterfly.”

Morna looked up  from the table top. ” That’s a pretty good choice there Francie.”

‘ See. I worked it out. Now it’s your turn.

Morna sat up straight. She was about to say something and slouched back down into her chair.

” You had an idea. I can see it Morna. Go on,  tell me. What do you want to be for Halloween?”

” It’s stupid.”

” I’m going as a butterfly. Possibly a ladybug. Go on. Out with it.”

Morna took a deep breath and said. ” Alive. For Halloween I want to be alive.”

Francie who died of the plague and was buried in a mass grave with two women and a man who were not dead, left this world dreaming of sunshine and fresh air and butterflies looked at her friend Morna who died  hundred of years after her own death when she was poisoned by her own husband for insurance money and said, ” I think that’s a lovely idea Morna. It really is.”

Morna looked into the candle light and said in a softy ghostly whisper that drifted through the abonded house they called home, ” I want to be alive.”

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Hamish and The Wolf

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DAILY PROMPT

Write a new post in response to today’s one-word prompt.

Miniature

Photo: A.M. Moscoso

Photo: A.M. Moscoso (2014)

Hamish Macbeth

was tiny, sweet and small

He had yellow eyes, a bounce his in step and no manners at all.

I thought he’d be like that forever, a pint sized funny dog

And then one day he disappeared and in his place I found:

Photo A.M. Moscoso

Photo A.M. Moscoso

Hamish Macbeth all grown up

Smart and sweet and tall.

My yellowed eyed boy grew  up

But in my eyes he’s still so small.

Photo A.M. Moscoso

Photo A.M. Moscoso (1991)

Wolfgang Amadeus

was tiny, sweet and small

He was everything a cat should be

with a little touch of dog

Photo: AM. Moscoso

Photo: AM. Moscoso

We grew old  together

my blue eyed Wolf and me

when he died

and left me

I felt so very

small.

Grave Humor

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When your family and friends know you love the macabre, you get all sorts of strange pictures sent your way.

Here are a few of my favorites:

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ev3

In case you can’t see it on the  back of the bus above:

ev2

 

DON’T SCREAM A WORD

If you are alone in the dark

and you get a little scared

don’t reach for the lights

don’t breathe a word

Something might hear you

something might see you

I’ll know where to find you

and if I do

you

won’t

have the chance

to scream

a

word.

AMM

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