Things I don’t understand

I have decided to do some writing on things I don’t understand. There are many of them, but I feel that some are worthy of writing about. Initially, I was going to title this ’50 things I don’t understand’, but that is an uncomfortably round number, and I generally dislike things that group things into an arbitrary number as if to give them some kind of legitimacy. So I will just keep writing them until I run out of ideas.

Seven hundred (or DCC in roman numerals)

I wrote the 700th poem in my recent poems collection today. Been writing quite a bit actually, so maybe the old blog still has some life left in it. This is a hot shot 50 word piece based on the word ‘indigo’.

 

Blue black

Hinting at something…subsurface

The colour of a bruise

That has had time to fester

An idea past its time.

You put him in that mood indigo,

An irrecoverable flat spin

As the colour swims towards blackness

On the edge of the real

The edge of the unreal

 

Villanelle

I recently had a prompt.. or exercise, whichever you prefer, to write a Villanelle. The form is an old one, but I’ve always enjoyed writing them. In this case I had to write two before I did one that I thought was acceptable.

Another day she can’t erase
A frail ghost of an aging plea
She turns away to hide her face

I can still imagine every place
We ran, every leaf on every tree
She turns away to hide her face

She leaped and spun infinite grace
And, simply put, I turned to flee
Another day she can’t erase

O fair foundation where to base
My ruin, darkness comes to me
She turns away to hide her face

And now, alone, I flit and pace
Whisper ‘to be or not to be’
Another day I can’t erase

I drift without her in this barren space
If I could… but never would foresee
She turns away to hide her face

She is gone without a trace
Without her I am failing by degree
Another day I can’t erase

But we have had our last embrace
We wade through the debris
Another day she can’t erase
She turns away to hide her face

Hot Flash – embark

I’m not exactly sure where I should be linking, but I read Troy’s hot flash and thought I’d have a go myself. I do need to write more short (and long) fiction. Let me know how I did! The limit is 50 words, which I hit exactly (I do like to be precise), and the theme word is ’embark’.

[edit] – apparently I should be linking here

Thud! The sound of hot rain driving hard, hitting the dirt. Particles of soil leapt up like coiled springs from each drop. They waited, the water thudding around them, falling in waves, in sheets, in spirals. Clasping each other’s hands, they stood staring out into the drops, waiting to embark.

Waypoint

A lot of what I write has hidden meanings in it. I am wondering if this one is too hidden for fear of being all surface no feeling.

 

Long straight road
Black mamba on the desert
Straggling clouds rise in sweeping curves
Over sand-coloured tracks
The road thins towards the vanishing point
Trickles out to nothing

The eye of the camera swoops overhead
We see a tiny outpost
Corrugated rooves ripple like heatwaves
Warp and weft
The air flows on
Smoothing the stones
Stirring the dust into something
Momentarily like a face

Sometimes
People stop
Sit in the lone cafe
Stare out across the wind
Silenced by the thickness of a window
The plains a shimmering red river

They pay for their meal and go
Their change rings on the table
They never stay
There is no hotel
No empty houses

Forever, here, is just a word