Greed ate compassion
out of the heart of the man.
His words reeked of rot—
gold only keeps teeth from death
if decay doesn’t rule the mouth.

“You can poke her for $15.” The man grinned, waving his bloodied stick.

“I’ll give you $300 for the stick… and some alone time.” The witch’s eyes remained on the cage, watching the creature that was woman and spider and Nature gone wild.

“Have your fill, miss. But no killing.” He handed me the stick. “Dead meat’s nothing.”

My will broke the cage,
but the storming was all hers.
She reclaimed her Self—
freedom is never a gift
one can get from another.

the wee notes…
– To read other installments, visit my Web Serials page. The tales are listed under Belle du Freak.
– The essence of this bit of tanka-prose first burst out of my muse’s skull in 2012. I rewrote it as a short story and kept it to myself because it didn’t feel right. Then, the other day, while discussing tanka-prose with Rommy, I realized that I was unhappy with the piece because it was never meant to be a poem or a story, but both.
– Linked to the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads.

a wee bit *that has nothing to do with this poem*…
– Haven’t joined October’s Heart-Bits with Magaly? Follow the link. Write with me.
– And, as always, my Luvs: Be wild. Be deliciously wicked. Be you.

Making Bright Out of Shadows

In darkness, away from leaf-song and rain-scented soil, hearts wilt and die. In the light, where words speak halved thoughts and poetry kisses riddles, stories will die. I hear it. I think it… Then, that something that binds us (do you know what it is?), that thing made of mud, daydreams and wild bits of you and me, fills my bones with chants of Maybe… and I know better—stories only die if you let them and hearts always live if we read.

Making bright
out of the shadows,
the soul smiles…
while I remember
the power of ink.

the (not so) wee notes…
– Last Sunday, I wasn’t having the best of days. I was feeling a bit gloomy, out of sorts… So, I put on my super-power skirt (everybody should have something—in their closet, bookcase, wallet…—that instantly fills them with good memories. I wore the skirt in question, for the first time, during a dance while I was a junior in high school, the same night I figured out that life was freaking weird, but since I was weird, too, then life was yummy). Anyhoo, I put on brown combat boots and my super-power skirt and a dear friend and I went thrifting. The thrift shop was closed when we got there, so we laughed a tad madly, went to the grocery store and bought two pies (I got peach!), and life was yummy. When I saw this rather dark picture (below), taken on the bus on our way back from pie shopping, I noticed how my smile shines through the gloom (I have super-power teeth, too), and I thought, Yep, life is yummy and then some.
– Linked to the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads ~ Tuesday Platform.