Spoiler Alert

Jimmy and Mom

For today’s liv2write2day’s Blog Fiction, Poetry and Writing Prompts, Victoria wrote, “As we approach the end of the year and the beginning of another, a theme inspires me: endings.”

She went on to assign, and here, I have blended some of her choices, “Write a poem or a piece of short fiction about an ending/write a poem with a surprise ending.”

I have been watching Boardwalk Empire, and thought I could…well, if I told you, it would be a spoiler alert to the spoiler alert, so, read the story, and you will probably figure out how I got this idea.

As he read, she stood over his shoulder, undaunted, grinning. As he read the last few paragraphs, he started shaking his head, for he sensed what was to come.

“Throughout the acclaimed series, I debated whether the style was Jacobean or Elizabethan. As I attempted to properly label the dramatic style, each episode, nay, each scene, brought me back and forth, like an amusement park The Pirate Ship ride. My mind maneuvered, like an Aston Martin in an early Bond movie. Clearly, there were aspects of The Godfather that were parallel to both Macbeth and the Henry IV trilogy. Undoubtedly, any given episode maintained characteristics of The Revenger’s Tragedy.

“As a connoisseur of award winning television drama, I was seduced into watching two full seasons back to back. The opening of the stylish, expressionist, HBO period piece, was directed by  Martin Scorsese himself.

“Finally, as I salivated over the virtuosity of the final episode of the second season, I could concede to only one formal designation: Greek Tragedy.

“Of course, within the voluminous works of that era, only one work parallels. Thus, the spoiler alert of the week: Boardwalk Empire is the most Oedipal of all contemporary dramatic works ever to…”

He stopped reading. Her smile faded, “What? Is it that bad? Too over the top English-major? What?”

“No,” he kissed her on the forehead. “this is your best writing ever, well, at least for your Spoiler column. Hon, I don’t know how to tell you this, but, that wasn’t the end, it wasn’t the last episode, it was second to last.”

“OH!” replied the loquacious English Major, “oh.”

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Photo Credit: © HBO 2011

Also posted on

Poetics-Endings & Beginnings

At the Fabric Store

Fabric Store

striped, plaid, checked, faded, floral, animal print
solid, plain, woven, fragile
bulky, flexible, transparent
pile, fiberfill, comfort-stretch-elasticity
durable, cool and absorbent,
crinkly, lightweight, flexible
wrinkly, snagged, ribbed, stubbed, ridged
rip-stopping, abrasion resistant
heavy, firm weight, tear-strength-reinforced
fuzzy, fur-like coarseness
canvas-like, tough-resilience
industrial, geometric weave
longevity-insulating-encapsulated fibers
glazed tightly, spun bulky
crispness, dryness, silkiness,
cottony, satiny, shiny, slippery,
heated embossed, warp shrinkage, pressed
closely woven, plain-faced-finish
light and warm
soft and white
smooth and lustrous
slick and gorgeous
calendared to achieve a high glaze
luxuriant-grace with gossamer softness
eco-friendly, sustainable and organic

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Written for:

 

Monday Morning Writing Prompt: Do the Details.

Fabric of Our Lives: dVerse Poetics

Photo Credit: PeterPan’s Visits San Francisco…

Sparse Pleasant Days

Wild Swim Waterfall

memorable vibrations
might seem
hard to come by

no rehearsing
what’s to come
from passing desire

imagination fashions
miraculously
life passes furtively

dervishly twirl
till beginnings have no end
imperfections released
in sparse pleasant days

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This was posted for:

Prompt: Life is Good

Also posted on:

Imaginary Gardens With Real Toads –  A Word with Laurie

Also posted on:

dversepoets   giving-thanks

Photo credit: Dominick Tyler in  Guardian News and Media Limited “Valleys, Rivers and Waterfalls” – Friday 3 April 2009

Benediction

Mahatma Gandhi - Namaste

bring reconciliation
redeem from persecution
rock the opposition
fill with compassion
fight off starvation
grieve sinful condition
reign in proportion
reward our recitation
mercy on our generation

express devotion
declare benediction
ordain with obligation
praise urgent declamation
bless vocal improvisation
glorify breathing relaxation
proclaim his name with satisfaction
commit your spirit to salvation
worship through musical notation

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Written for: Monday Morning Writing Prompt: Sacred Music.

Photo Credit: Food For The Spiritual Soul’s Blog – Mahatma Gandhi

Dog in Leaves

Dirty Dog

i had just completed
the raking of leaves
the yard was clean:
one of my pet peeves,

when no one’s pet
came along in my yard
his coat was matted
his face was scarred.

i did not know
if he would lick or bite
a strange injured dog
can be quite a fright.

i lifted my rake
for protection, you see
the dog had big teeth
and might attack me.

he looked at me
with eyes rather sad;
i knew in my heart
this dog was not bad.

he hadn’t eaten in days
and seemed rather frail.
he sat on the ground
and thumped his tail.

as i lowered my rake,
he stood up to leap
yet not on myself,
but on the big heap.

the leaves flew up high
the yellow, red and green,
he landed beside me
the happiest dog i had seen.

so on that autumn day
he decided my fate,
in a pile of color
i met my best mate.

*********************

Written for:

Poetry Blogroll

The Thursday Think Tank #73 – The Waning Days of Fall

Also posted on Monday Morning Writing prompt – November.

Photo Credit: arlingtonmama

The Erotic Engineer

Sexy Gates

Within the environment of
baseline tasks
one encounters demanding
psycho-acoustic research.

Ultra sound communication,
high resolution optical encounters,
define this rather
goofy proto-type stage.

The interconnection protocols
specifically tailored to this operation
contains an internal implementation
with automatic calibration:

cutaneous sensors GO
multi-media sensors GO
texture map sensors GO
torque sensors GO

In augmented real time,
The force feed back structures
Act as a toolkit
of functionality.

Their virtual sidearms
Are magic enough to surprise
but not shock. Oscillations.
Release. Synchronicity.

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This was posted for Monday Morning Writing Prompt – Alliteration.  Well, I hope this has enough alliteration for this prompt. I think it does. Even though the guy in the pic is not an engineer, close enough, he’s a Computer Engineer, and I thought it was amusing.

Also posted for:

Prompt: Operation

Photo credit Computer Science Rocks

Human Honeycomb

Human Honeycomb

hip.

harmonic.

heroic.

hot.

humictant.

hypnotic.

handsome.

hung.

hunky.

homeostatic.

hypertensive.

hypersweet.

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This was posted for Monday Morning Writing Prompt–Let’s Have Some Fun .

Also posted on:

Theme – “sweet”

Photo credit trothwell  from Human Honeycomb Picture/

Defining Mama (One)

Mama at The Sink

Defining Mama (One)

…by the warmth of a cheek
melting onto your waking face
tearless and loving ― during
an early morning embrace.

…by the smell of her cookies.
..by the size of her butt
leaning over a sink ― scrubbing
insecticide off a carrot.

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Hear this on chirbit

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This was posted for Monday Morning Writing Prompt–Comfort Food .
Also posted on:

#324 – Parent

I chose this poem because there is nothing for comfort food like mama’s cookies, and carrots are a whole other genre of comfort food. I wrote this back in the early 90’s but changed it a bit recently.

Photo Credit: Bat-Ami Gordin © 2011 all rights reserved, credit if you use it, please.

Grandpa Doesn’t Remember Me – Haiku

i don’t understand

Grandad called me by Mom’s name

to him, i am not

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Written for Monday Morning Writing Prompt – Description

Then posted on:

Dversepoets – FormForAll – Haiku and Senryu

picture credit by vintagedept via Flickr

Also posted on:

Past and Future – Tuesday December 6, 2011

Dysfunctional

Rihanna - Her Beat Up Words

It’s nothing but a thankless job,
giving you my tears.
I mope the evening away
wondrin’ where you are.
Then I hear your ring
your voice,
your needs.

I’m the artist who could
showcase you:
a framed work of joy.
To  break from your reins
sweats out  my mind.
It’s like  my own work,
my will
my time.

Encased in a holo cave
echo of your drumming heart.
So then, one day,
No more.
I won’t be there.
Don’t count
on me calling back.

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Written for:

 

Write2Day–Labor Day Prompt

Also posted on:

Poetry Picnic Week 30: Doubts, Fears, Inhibitions and Hesitations

Picture credit: mammakaze