Inspired by Pearl Jam's Daughter
Ms. Haiku
Washington DC Posts: 7,265
I'm going to go at this one like I did that 1-7-06 one, and you'll see how it develops as it's edited. It will probably end up much shorter, but we'll see. I plan on finishing this one by May 15th, and use it as my submission to Trading Stories with the Leaves #2. I started it yesterday:
No one closed the windows after she left this morning. The edge of the curtain crumpled like an unwanted draft laying on the back of the chair near the window. The window ledge slightly spotted in raindrops from an earlier sunshower.
She moves closer to the window and notices two birds circling. She watches them as if they were teaching her the alphabet in continous, but will it end? The curtain is opened or closed, the eraser ends up in shreds scattered on the floor, the needle pulls off the record when it ends.
The sun at times formidable is the only way to see happiness. Stealth, even, a ray reaches for the mirror hanging above a vase of fresh flowers. The mirror reflects what she hides as she slips on her high school ring. She refused to be photographed for the high school year book.
Some wait for her pens in hand, ready for the exchange. Congratulations with a "C" in her hands turns into elliptical "E", turns into "see", turns into "sea." She writes in colors. An architect of the ocean's contrasts, the gravity of maps continue to pull her, and she sketches herself as lush undiscovered land.
No one closed the windows after she left this morning. The edge of the curtain crumpled like an unwanted draft laying on the back of the chair near the window. The window ledge slightly spotted in raindrops from an earlier sunshower.
She moves closer to the window and notices two birds circling. She watches them as if they were teaching her the alphabet in continous, but will it end? The curtain is opened or closed, the eraser ends up in shreds scattered on the floor, the needle pulls off the record when it ends.
The sun at times formidable is the only way to see happiness. Stealth, even, a ray reaches for the mirror hanging above a vase of fresh flowers. The mirror reflects what she hides as she slips on her high school ring. She refused to be photographed for the high school year book.
Some wait for her pens in hand, ready for the exchange. Congratulations with a "C" in her hands turns into elliptical "E", turns into "see", turns into "sea." She writes in colors. An architect of the ocean's contrasts, the gravity of maps continue to pull her, and she sketches herself as lush undiscovered land.
There is no such thing as leftover pizza. There is now pizza and later pizza. - anonymous
The risk I took was calculated, but man, am I bad at math - The Mincing Mockingbird
The risk I took was calculated, but man, am I bad at math - The Mincing Mockingbird
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impressive to say the least.
"Hear me, my chiefs!
I am tired; my heart is
sick and sad. From where
the sun stands I will fight
no more forever."
Chief Joseph - Nez Perce
The risk I took was calculated, but man, am I bad at math - The Mincing Mockingbird
I'm working on another draft.
I forgot - no edit button. Golly!
The risk I took was calculated, but man, am I bad at math - The Mincing Mockingbird
and sees her mom at the kitchen table.
I'm gone
Don't stay out too late
Her mother recites her response in a tone borrowed from Reader's Digest. She knows any question would provoke answers mired in theories. The Reader's Digest is the favorite table accessory since Sophia started high school. So powerful the written word her mom's voice is stuck to it.
Sophia walks faster towards the porch,
and almost skips down the steps with her brother's bike.
She doesn't know the way around her hometown in words.
She turns left at the stop sign with the oldest dent,
she pedals faster under leaves heavy with humidity,
and readjusts her backpack after she waves to her ex-boyfriend's
mother walking to work.
She abruptly stops pedaling to watch 2 birds circling and circling.
Against the pane of air she feels their language with her fingertips.
They descend towards recently seeded earth, and she captures them
with a cell phone click.
Sophia's backpack holds her pens, a sketch, and her yearbook.
She ripped the invitation for a high school photo
as she never knew herself as stilled, or black and white. She's practiced
the sketch of herself for over three days, decreasing the speed,
yet happy with how she's defined.
Her friends wait with their pens in hand ready for the exchange. She opens
a yearbook to what should have been her. She draws "C" for "Congratulations" as a floating pool of blue. Her blank space
grows into waves of her life, and she sketches herself quickly
as lush undiscovered land. She twists her high school ring
which fits perfectly.
The risk I took was calculated, but man, am I bad at math - The Mincing Mockingbird
The risk I took was calculated, but man, am I bad at math - The Mincing Mockingbird
and sees her mom at the kitchen table.
I'm gone.
Don't stay out too late.
Her mother recites her response in a tone
borrowed from Reader's Digest;
the favorite table accessory since Sophia started high school.
So powerful the written word her mom's eyes are stuck to it.
Sophia walks faster towards the porch,
and almost skips down the steps with her brother's bike.
She looks at her watch as she pedals across the crosswalk.
She doesn't know the way around her hometown in stories.
She turns left at the stop sign with the oldest dent,
she pedals faster under leaves heavy with humidity,
and readjusts her backpack as she passes
the elementary school swing set.
She abruptly stops pedaling to watch 2 birds circling and circling.
Against the pane of air she feels their language with her fingertips.
They descend towards recently seeded earth, and she saves the story
with a cell phone click.
Sophia's backpack holds her pens, a sketch, and her yearbook.
She ignored the invitation for a high school photo
as she never knew herself as stilled, or black and white. She's practiced
the sketch of herself for over three days, decreasing the drawing speed,
and content with how she's defined.
Her friends wait with their pens in hand ready for the exchange. She opens
a yearbook to the space that should have been her.
She draws "C" for "Congratulations" as a floating pool of blue.
Her blank space grows into waves of her life,
and she sketches herself quickly as lush undiscovered land.
She twists her high school ring which fits perfectly.
Feedback welcomed. What works, what doesn't work?
The risk I took was calculated, but man, am I bad at math - The Mincing Mockingbird