What To Do?

Photo: Dana Vollenweider on Unsplash

 

What are we to do?

They asked,

When all seems to be

So broken-up?

How can we rectify

When the mess

We allowed

Exceeds nightmare

Proportions?

 

Perhaps,

The measured response was,

Begin with

Cleaning up.

 

For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt: Rectify in 35 words

The Misanthrope

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Photo: Sarah Kilian on Unsplash

 

There is nothing anyone could say to change his mind.

Or his attitude.

Or his demeanor.

One could hardly expect him to respect those who practically asked to be demeaned, who did not try to rise above their lassitude, who did not take the opportunity when it presented.

So what if his wealth was carved out of others’ misery?

Someone had to do it. Someone had to step up to the plate and be the boss.

What did they expect him to be? A sniveling, prattling sissy like the ones who follow him?! They are lucky to have him.

 

 

 

For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt: Misanthrope in 99 words

Disclaimer: No offense intended to any amphibians. I know they are better than that. Image presented for illustration purposes only….

 

4T

max-headroom CrispinaKemp

 

Luke eyed the sign ahead.

“I won’t be allowed in,” he sighed.

Sarah scrunched her forehead. “Maybe they won’t notice?”

Luke raised an eyebrow. He was 6’8″.

Of course they would notice. It was a stupid thing to say. She blushed. “I’m sorry, Luke. I mean, it’s just so unfair!”

He nodded. Such rules often were. Still many tended to accept, even embrace, ‘patriotic regulations’ … until caprice hit close to home. Or in his case, on the way back to it.

He had pooh-poohed the risk. What folly.

He wouldn’t be allowed into the City. Even though he’d been born and raised and lived there. Had committed no crime. He was banished. They’d expel him if he were still home.

The militia could shoot him on sight. Neighbors would be expected to report his presence. As of that morning, anyone above 6’6″ feet was considered a 4T security risk – Too Tall To Trust.

 

 

 

For Crispina’s Crimson’s Creative Challenge

 

 

They’ll Return

majestic KarenForte

Photo: Karen Forte

 

They’ll return

To the sky

To the bluffs

To the forests.

They’ll return

To true pride

To the strength

And the chorus,

Of the way

Things can be

When the truth

One can see

And the powers

Of we,

Will refuse to

Agree

To deceits of those

Pretending

To celebrate

Being free.

 

 

For the Tuesday Photo Challenge: Return

 

 

Things To Come

 

Perhaps it had been the mark of things to come, though till it arrived they did not know it (or, as some stated, they’d preferred ignoring the possibility).

There were so many explanations: Bad weather, a change in allocation, inability to keep up with need, aging infrastructure, decline in the number of those who knew how to fix things with handiwork instead of keyboards.

Of course, the sidewalks didn’t crumble overnight. It took years. Yet somehow people had dismissed a steady rise in ankle injuries. They merely shook their heads when accessibility was reduced to the long-legged spry. There was no outcry. After all, most people didn’t ambulate with strollers, walking-sticks or wheelchairs.

In the end it was the roller-bags that tipped the scale. What unconscionable disrepair allowed wheels to break in ways manufacturers won’t cover? People could not be reduced to lifting suitcases when they needed to go somewhere!

 

 

 

For Crispina’s Crimson’s Creative Challenge

 

 

The Big Scale

scale SmadarHalperinEpshtein

Photo: Smadar Halperin-Epshtein

 

In the big scale

Of things

Where watershed moments

Froth and fall in

Flush forward,

Each of us but a dot

Drenched in mist

Hoping life

Flows without

A fast-forward.

 

 

 

For the Tuesday Photo Challenge: Scale

 

Quite Simply

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Photo: Zane Lee on Unsplash

 

“Quite simply,” she said,

“The very times when some in power

Are seeking to perplex you,

Are the times when you best make sure

That you are not at all confused.”

 

“For when what should be simple

Is deliberately made unclear,

And what’s logical is spun

Cheaply to cost dear,

It ought to signal your eyes

To remain widely open,

And your ears to insist on holding only

To the truth.”

 

She sighed and touched the blue print

Faded on her arm,

Seared like yesterday

In her heart and mind.

 

 

 

For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Challenge: Perplex in 90 words

 

 

Aftereffect

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Photo: Arnaud Jaegers on Unsplash

 

It does not do to elect

Only those who self-select.

Because it is best to object

To any who hold no respect

For others’ ability to reflect

On the facts in each subject.

For if we fail now to protect

The need of everyone to connect

And the necessity to detect

Those who humanity eject,

We might injustice reinfect

And cement moral defect

As the greedy now expect

Blind loyalty by genuflect.

 

 

 

For Linda Hill’s SoCS writing prompt: “ect”

 

 

A Slowly Fraying Memory

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Photo: Free-to-use-sounds, on Unsplash

 

 

From the hollows of despair, they fled.

The shirts on their backs and the children

In their arms, all they could manage to

Take.

Even the abysmal shelters they had recently

Been made to call

Home,

No longer gave any protection or

A chance at repair or

Reform.

They left, dodging death and finding

Further fright to

Flee,

And in their hearts they held on

Tightly

To the slowly fraying

Memory,

Of days when life was softer

And beds were warm,

And babies slept

Well kept

Safe from war and hate and

Harm.

 

For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt: Abysmal in 93 words

Note: Dedicated to all displaced, terrorized, pressed, oppressed, persecuted persons everywhere, and to the many millions who had, throughout history and in recent memory and in today’s times, been forced to further risk their lives by leaving what had once been home and safety behind, for the unknown.

 

As They Say …

 

Oy vey, Oy vey

Or, as they say.

Bless their hearts,

Now we best pray.

For this pack,

Who clear as day

Have evidently

Lost their way.

 

 

 

 

For Linda Hill’s SoCS prompt: (un)pack