“postaday″ tag.
Opal Reflections
Perspectives through Prose, Poetry and Photography
Brick and Mortar
I love Brick!
I love the irregular-surfaced and non-homogeneous kiln red uniqueness,
Contradicted by predictable, perfect symmetry.
Rigid, yet when interstitially connected with others of their kind,
Creating a ‘whole’, far stronger than the individual parts;
Solid structures; facades, walls and walkways, steps and stairs
That, despite imperceptibly widening mortar cracks, endure for decades
Dispassionately, assuredly, protecting the infrastructure within and behind.
Man is like brick.
Irrefutably unique, yet genetically singular in appearance and psyche.
Combining with others of his species in (by all appearances) predictable patterns
Creating a union strong enough to weather most storms; forging children in his likeness.
Prim-perfect facade protecting that which lies beneath, behind and beyond
Tenuously fending off collapse from deteriorating mortar.
Man’s promise; he is sentient – capable of passion, pain, pleasure and promise
Man’s peril: that he become stone cold brick.
A Smart Girl
WRITTEN IN RESPONSE TO THE TRIFECTA WRITING CHALLENGE (www.trifectawritingchallenge.com), Week 50.
Prompt: YEAR…a calendar year specified usually by a number (died in the year 1900)
She was six when it happened, if it happened. Whether it was the overactive imagination of a first grader, a dark dream, or an actual brush with evil, she may never know, but will never forget.
It was 1951, the year her family relocated to the third floor of the three family house on West End Avenue, just outside the inner city. She was a resilient little girl, and would adjust to the new neighborhood, so her parents had no reason to be concerned. Besides, her younger sister and infant baby brother needed Mom’s attention.
With a good head on her shoulders, she was, by all accounts, mature beyond her years. She rode the #31 bus alone, to Sacred Heart School. Often unaccompanied, she commuted into Manhattan for voice lessons. She sought, received (and in a real sense, she needed) the adulation and approval of adults. Their perception of her defined her own self portrait. She was confident in her competence and could take care of herself. She was a smart girl!
The engaging young man lived on the second floor (the landlord’s son) and reminded her of Joe DiMaggio, her favorite. His tall, dark handsomeness disarmed her. She liked him. So on that afternoon, as she swooped up his newspaper from the front walk and bounded up the stairs to his door, she was unguarded; ambushed by the blindness of her innocence.
When the door swung open, she didn’t understand, but instantly and instinctively froze with fear. She offered the rolled-up newspaper, her gaze fixated on his glaring eyes, blocking out everything else. Feigning ignorance of his open robe and refusing to look at the shockingly blatant nakedness beneath, she turned and raced up the stairs.
Later, alone in the safety and solitude of her room, her mother’s words reverberated inside her head. She hears them still:“For a smart girl, you can be very stupid.”
She told no one.
Eternally Yours
Mama,
I was four; I remember!
He knew what you’d done.
I knew too, but I loved you…still do;
though your grave is filled with stones
And you know me not!
The weekend Challenge:
This weekend is our last opportunity for a Halloween-inspired Trifextra, and of course, we can’t pass that up. In 1937, a naked woman was found limping through the streets of Haiti. Upon interrogation, she was unable to give any details as to her identity. The woman was eventually identified in hospital as Felicia Felix-Mentor. The only issue is that Felicia Felix-Mentor had been dead for nearly twenty years. Felicia was, therefore, a zombie.
It so happens that well-known author and anthropologist Zora Neale Hurston was in Haiti researching a book at that time. Hurston met and photographed the woman/zombie, and pop culture took the story from there. Not surprisingly, there are a ton of internet articles discussing the authenticity of the claim of zombification, the chemical mix needed to create such a phenomenon, and then, of course, instruction on how we should all behave in the event of a zombie apocalypse. There is even a video on Youtube of Hurston describing the encounter.
Here is the photo that Zora Neale Hurston took of the supposed zombie.
| Credit: Zora Neale Hurston |
We want thirty three words that are somehow related to Hurston’s zombie sighting. How you structure your response is entirely up to you.
http://www.trifectawritingchallenge.com
Macabre Massage (Trifecta Challenge: Sinister)
This week’s challenge: SINISTER: 1 archaic : unfavorable, unlucky 2 archaic : fraudulent 3: singularly evil or productive of evil (www.trifectawritingchallenge.com)
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Were it not for the unnerving sense of impending doom that began to overtake his psyche, he was relieved to leave the sinister spa lady; who not only claimed ignorance of his appointment, but more puzzlingly, made no attempt to hide her animus towards him! The conundrum plagued him during the entire drive home.
As he strode hastily toward his front door, still unable to shake the unpleasantness of his encounter with her, he sensed something was amiss: a horse-drawn carriage, silhouetted against the rising full moon, was inexorably closing in on him. Quickening his pace, sprinting up the steps, he stopped in his tracks, realizing that his front door was already open! He knew chillingly and instinctively that whatever lay in wait across the darkened threshold, was to be feared; even as the looming shadow of the carriage grew ever larger behind him, threatening to swallow him whole.
Distant screams grew louder, nearer, clearer: ”Help… Help …Help”, with a timbre so ghastly guttural, he dare not conjure from whence these inhuman utterances emanated. Lungs, about to implode in a frenzy of fanatical fear, he sucked in a single, last gasp of air and tenuous thread to consciousness; only to realize in horror that the futile screams were his!
“Honey, wake up…wake up!” Heart still racing, he stared into the deep brown eyes of his Sara. Struggling to regain his grasp on reality, he nestled closer: “I love you, Sara.” She smiled, patting herself on the back for having made the appointment. He needed to relax – to shed the stress that must be causing his nightmares. “Honey, don’t forget, your spa massage is at five … ask for Enid. She’ll take good care of you!”
Weekly Photo Challenge: Silhouette-Archway View of Glacier Lake
Glacier Lake, as viewed through the dramatic silhouette of Mohonk Mountain House stone archway. This photo was not edited. Yet the spectacular scene is perfectly framed and presents an ideal vantage point from which to soak up this unique vista. Postaday.
Zuzu’s Petals
Hopeless!
Plunging into the ravaging river-rise,
Eddying, encircling, engulfing,
Gasping, grabbing, gripping
His lifeline: enlightening glimpse
Wished-for alternative reality.
Time thread, snagged…
Just in time!
“Zuzu’s petals…Zuzu… There they are!”
Written in response to this weekend’s Trifextra challenge #38: “On to the weekend challenge. The Monkey’s Paw, a short story by W.W. Jacobs, is about the strings that come with granted wishes. We are asking you to write 33 words exactly about three wishes that come at a high price to the wisher”. www.trifectawritingchallenge.com
The Excellence of Anonymity
Places!
Orchestral musicians
Choristers; professional and avocational
Hundreds of passionate, like-minded spirits
After months, weeks, hours of dedicated water-shedding
Tonight, all privileged to perform
This Opus
Penguins!
To the gathering audience,
Performers are indistinguishable
(in standard black and starched white concert garb)
Like a waddle of penguins awaiting their momentous, impending migration.
A ‘waddle’ of anonymous (yet, uniquely talented) performers
Attentively awaiting the signal.
Penultimate moment!
Poised. Waiting. Watching.
Maestro ascends to the podium.
Silence! Pick up cue…Downbeat…
In an instant, glorious silence-shattering sound!
Priceless, unrepeatable, unforgettable glimpse of beauty,
In an otherwise flawed world.
written in response to Trifecta Writing challengs:
Promt: BLACK
1a : of the color black
b (1) : very dark in color <his face was black with rage>
(2): having a very deep or low register <a bass with a blackvoice>
(3) : heavy, serious <the play was a black intrigue>
2a : having dark skin, hair, and eyes : swarthy
b (1) often capitalized : of or relating to any of various population groups having dark pigmentation of the skin
(2) : of or relating to the African-American people or their culture
(3) : typical or representative of the most readily perceived characteristics of black culture
On The Count of Three…
Trifecta Weekend Challenge: this weekend we are challenging you to write 33 of your own words to build on the following: On the count of three…(www.Trifectawritingchallenge.com).
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On the count of three …yesterday, the giggling girl-child was whisked skyward in Mommy and Daddy’s arm-swing. Today, her squealingly ecstatic son cries: “Mee-Ma, Bee-Pa…again…one, two, three…whee!”
Weekly Photo Challenge: “Happy”
A Room with a View (Cote d’Azur)
Precious Puppy, “Bandit” (12 wks.)
Hand-knit Seine Scarf for Amy
Sunrise Shadows from BR Porch
D-Man’s Birthday: Boys will be Boys!
Shady Backyard Swing in Autumn
Mushroom in Mulch
Province Courtyard thru Country Casement
Rocking Chair Shadows
Row, row, row your Boat….Gently
I am posting, for the first time, in response to a WordPress challenge: namely to create a photo array to express “Things that Make me Happy”. (ref: “postaday”).
Gone
Like the Banyan Tree, she began humbly.
Strong seedling
Until Suckers, uncontrolled, obliterated her withering core
Pushing her inward … Forcing her out …
Indistinguishable now
Amid the tangle of torturous tendrils.
She is gone!
CARPE NOCTEM
I love things that go ‘bump’ in the night. I’m uneasy revealing this quirk, because I understand that for others, such things could create fear or dismay.
I lie in bed, protected only by a thin mesh screen(a membrane through which sound, smells, sensations may freely permeate) I am exhilarated. Once again I am a privileged observer and participant in this miracle.
I listen, as my imaginings lead me down shadowy paths glistening in the moonlight and across dew-strewn stretches of sod. I sense the underground critter colonies beneath my bare feet, and can almost feel silky, squirming between the blades of grass.
I hear a distant train whistle – a wistful sigh – providing a haunting backdrop to the building crescendo. Moths flutter at lamplight to the rhythm of unending cricket chirping. Bats ‘swoopingly’ add their etude with flourish and grace. Nearby, a startled dog barks a trumpet call acknowledgement of mid-night movements. Barking ceases; Calm is reestablished.
I revel, as a burrowing owl reprises his cooing, whirring and purring. Across the field raccoons, their rodent cousins and feral felines, roam stealthily – each in pursuit of prey. Perched safely above amid rustling branches, nestlings cling to each other; as mockingbird melodies flood the night air with waves of spectacular song.
I marvel at the balance of nature on display for all who would see (or hear), and as night wanes, the thrush nightingale joins the cacophonous concerto, announcing the breaching sunlit strains on the distant horizon. larks awaken and mourning doves to begin their nocturnal postlude .
I retreat from my marvelous meanderings. Reluctantly, as the predawn drizzle begins, nostrils fill with nourishing negative ions, and my re-embodied self tries to salvage some much-needed sleep; physical replenishment for the fast-approaching day. Spiritual replenishment will be set aside until the return of moon rise, when…
I return to resume my restorative reverie.
Written by BCIJo, akaJoanne Edith) in response to Trifecta Challenge Week 45 (www.Trifectawritingchallenge.com) UNEASY (use third definition)
1: causing physical or mental discomfort
2: not easy : difficult
3: marked by lack of ease : awkward, embarrassed <gave an uneasy laugh>
Trifecta Meet and Greet
I am writing answers to these questions posed by Trifecta as part of the Meet and Greet page.
- What is your name (real or otherwise)? Joanne Edith Roth (nee Marucci)
- Describe your writing style in three words. Finding it’s voice
- How long have you been writing online? 4 months
- Which, if any, other writing challenges do you participate in? None, yet.
- Describe one way in which you could improve your writing. I could improve my writing by reading the entries of my fellow Trifectans. they are amazing and I’m humbled actually receive commentary from so many.
- What is the best writing advice you’ve ever been given? Beautiful writing can and should be concise.
- Who is your favorite author? John LeCarre
- How do you make time to write? I make it part of my daily routine, though often I shift things around to ensure uninterrupted alone time.
- Give us one word we should consider using as a prompt. Remember–it must have a third definition.
AWFUL1: inspiring awe3: extremely disagreeable or objectionable <awful food>”
- Direct us to one blog post of yours that we shouldn’t miss reading.
https://opalreflections.wordpress.com/2012/09/17/september-song/
Lighthouse in the Mist, Cape May, NJ
Bandit
Festive View from the Pub, Peddler’s Village – Lahaska, PA.
Home Sweet Home
Opal Reflections 