Photo: Pixabay on Pexels.com
When the world hollows out
And the sun cooks up blame,
Don’t forget there were times
When we’d known
The con-game,
And yet chose –
To our shame –
Truth’s very core to
Maim.
We allowed
A shell-game
To carve the Earth
Up
In flames.
For dVerse Quadrille Monday: Up
Photo: Na’ama Yehuda
The skies aren’t falling
About our ears
In a squall
Of rain,
Nor in white flakes
That slough off
Of clouds
Again.
These skies are falling,
Bit by bit,
In tears
Orphaned
By pain,
And lost in hollows
Fed by
Hate
That’s allowed to
Remain.
For Linda Hill’s SoCS prompt: Fall from the sky
Photo: Ofir Asif
Note: On the eve of Holocaust Remembrance Day, when we mourn so many lost to deliberate ugliness that nurtured systemic cruelty and harm … and when some try to deepen horrors by claiming the suffering hadn’t even happened … May we find a path out of hate and violence, and away from whatever catchy slogans used to justify a pseudo-superiority. For in reality, we are all one, and the terror of racism leaves none of us unharmed.
For Linda’s One Liner Wednesday
“Be there in a moment, Aaron,” Miriam herded her family toward the synagogue across the street.
“Mom!” Ben protested. She drags him outta’ bed, then stays outside herself?
“It’s urgent,” Miriam apologized, eyes already on her phone.
Seven-year-old Jacob glanced at his dad. “Will the baby cry?”
“You screamed like a stuck pig at your Bris,” Ben offered.
Jacob froze. “I’ll stay with Mom.”
“Ben!” their dad scolded.
Staccato bangs echoed. Loud screams.
“The baby?!” Jacob clung to his father’s hand.
“Down! All of you!” Aaron shoved Jacob behind a car and raced to the synagogue. “Shots fired! Call 911!”
For Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers
Photo: Pixabay on Pexels.com
I’ve been expecting
The expert explication
And the
Expedient expelling
Of expired exploration
That often follows,
Quite expressively,
In the wake of expletives
And exposed exposition
By those wishing to expunge
Their exploits
From any experience
Of expiation.
Photo: Atara Katz
Go against
The pressing grain
And the common
Mindset,
To reach high
Toward the sky
And uniformity
Upset.
For Debbie’s One Word Sunday: Vertical
Photo: Renato Mu on Pexels.com
They were never meant to be
Accepted.
They were never meant
To be
Approved,
Or approved of.
Cast-offs,
They were the anathema
To all some saw as
Civil
Or normative
Or worthy of.
They were cursed
By those of privilege,
Who for added
Privations
Then denounced them
As being
Incapable of
Love.
For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt: Anathema in 52 words
Photo: Philip Coons
Where the rail
Meets the road
And the gravel
Kisses tracks,
Linger not
At the cross-point.
For the trains
Will chug on
And engines run
Because they can.
For the Which Way Challenge
Photo: Tina Nord on Pexels.com
She held her breath and waited for the instant
In time
Where Earth’s equator passed through
The center of the sun.
Imperfectly balanced
As it was
By arcs and tilt and latitudes,
She cared not about
The argument that it could never be
In ideal form,
Or that the exact timing
Varied
With convictions
And perceptions of the mind.
She paused nonetheless,
Determined
To witness the fleeting equilibrium
Of light and dark,
And the shift of balance
That it could,
perhaps today, allow.
For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt: Equinox in 83 words
They brought them in at dark, under the covers of secrecy and night.
Children, torn from loved ones, placed behind barbed wire, watched by burly guards.
“Your fault for coming,” they were told. “And now you’re too much work to reunite.”
For Three Line Tales
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