The Underside of Recollection

July 3, 2021Na'ama Yehuda Anecdotes of Life, Current events, Life and love, Muse and Flow, Poetry, Reflections, Writing Tags: Allegory, Current events, History, Honor, hope, Memory, Poetry, Promise, Tether, Trust, Weekend Writing Prompt 12 Comments

(Photo: Mick Haupt on Unsplash)

It was merely by a feather,

But nonetheless a

Tether

To a life before,

When friends were at the

Door,

And when she did not have to worry

About honor, trust, or

Glory.

She held on to the underside

Of recollection.

To the roots of love that

Promised a

Direction.

For there had been simplicity to life,

An implicit understanding

That words as given were meant

To keep,

And that the sun will rise in

The morn after a

Sleep.

For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt: Tether in 80 words

Inked

June 26, 2021Na'ama Yehuda Anecdotes of Life, Life and love, Muse and Flow, Poetry, Reflections, Writing Tags: Alternatives, coping, Creative writing, Ink, Making do, Micro-fiction, Poetry, Translation, voice, Weekend Writing Prompt, Writing 11 Comments

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When voice failed and

She could no longer

Think

She turned to

Ink

For words on velum

Scribbled

Fast

Translated

Into heart.

For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt: Ink in 22 words

Arranged

June 19, 2021Na'ama Yehuda Anecdotes of Life, Life and love, Muse and Flow, Poetry, Reflections, Trauma and Development, Writing Tags: Arranged marriage, Child marriage, Choices, Creative writing, Forced marriage, hope, Poetry, Unknown, Weekend Writing Prompt, Worry 19 Comments

(Photo: Ben Rosett on Unsplash)

There was not much to do but wait.

And hope.

The lots were cast,

Though she had very little trust

In such.

It was not for her

To decide.

Now it was just,

The drip of minutes

Through childhood’s hourglass.

Dreams slowly fraying

Into dust,

While growing worries,

Poke trembling shoots

Into her heart.

Will this unknown,

Chosen for her

Husband,

Will he be

Kind?

For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Challenge: unknown in 65 words

Displaced

June 12, 2021June 12, 2021Na'ama Yehuda Anecdotes of Life, Life and love, Meditations, Muse and Flow, Poetry, Reflections, Trauma and Development, Writing Tags: Allegory, Coping skills, Creative writing, dissociation, Flash Fiction, Galaxy, Micro-fiction, Poetry, Space, travel, Weekend Writing Prompt 13 Comments

(Photo: Erol Ahmed on Unsplash)

She did not require much notice for her travels.

Her bags were packed. All papers drawn. There was enough of any currency she needed.

More than enough of

All the hopes.

Distance was not an issue. Time, however, sometimes was. And space.

There wasn’t always sufficient space.

To take the journey.

From here.

To as much as a step

Beyond.

Still, the need persisted.

It had to. For she was, in many ways,

Displaced.

In her own mind.

From the galaxy of dreams,

That could in a drop of a hat,

Respond.

For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt: Galaxy in 92 words

Turning Up

June 5, 2021Na'ama Yehuda Anecdotes of Life, Current events, Life and love, Muse and Flow, Reflections, Trauma and Development, Writing Tags: Current events, Determination, Facts Matter, Human Rights, Nonviolence, Poetry, Protest, Speaking up, Truth, Voting Rights, Weekend Writing Prompt 13 Comments

(Photo: Brett Jordan on Unsplash)

There had to be a way

To be heard,

Without becoming

What they fought

Against.

They refused to condone

Violence,

Hate,

Or putting others down

To make a point.

Instead,

They turned up

A crescendo

Of truths.

For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt: Crescendo in 37 words

In The Block

May 29, 2021Na'ama Yehuda Anecdotes of Life, Life and love, Muse and Flow, Reflections, Writing Tags: Creativity, Flash Fiction, Knives, Micro-fiction, Names, Nomenclature, Old Age, Retired, Weekend Writing Prompt 20 Comments

(Photo: SHOT on Unsplash)

She had a thing for giving names. To things.

It was her personal nomenclature.

The house’s door was “Lettie”… for letting her inside the home.

The bed was “Sleeping Beauty” … for some very long dreams.

Her knife set she called “Sharpenado.” In it was “Sharpenado-The-First”, “Sharpenado-The-Second”, “Sharpenado-Junior”, and even “Sharpenado Senior” … the oldest of the bunch. Like her, it was retired and allowed to spend the rest of its dull days in the block.

For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt: Nomenclature in 76 words

Resonance

May 22, 2021Na'ama Yehuda Anecdotes of Life, Current events, Life and love, Muse and Flow, Poetry, Reflections, Trauma and Development, Writing Tags: Adversity, Briefly, Eerie, empathy, Memory, pain, Poetry, Resonance, Understanding, Unexpected, Weekend Writing Prompt 19 Comments

(Photo: Johnny Cohen on Unsplash)

The sound began

A whisper,

Only to crescendo to

A cry

That made the very

Heart

Howl

In eerie

Resonance

Of pain.

Familiar

Again.

For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt: Eerie in 24 words

Unhollowed

May 15, 2021Na'ama Yehuda Anecdotes of Life, Life and love, Muse and Flow, Poetry, Reflections, Trauma and Development, Writing Tags: Adversity, Creative writing, Cruelty, Persistence, Poetry, Resilience, Resistance, Tenacity, Wanton, Weekend Writing Prompt 16 Comments

(Photo: Lucas Myers on Unsplash)

There was little in their heart

But ice

And calculated cruelty.

A wanton abuse of

Power.

Ribald actions of

A misery intended

To inflict.

The wreck they left

Of any who had

Crossed them,

Threatened to hollow

Even the hardiest

Protest.

And yet,

There were still some

Whose souls

Would not give in

To ugly.

Whose light

Resisted.

Insisted.

Persisted.

For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt: wanton in 60 words

Not Quite

May 8, 2021Na'ama Yehuda Anecdotes of Life, Life and love, Muse and Flow, Reflections, Trauma and Development, Writing Tags: Alone, Creative writing, Flash Fiction, Isolated, Loss, Micro-fiction, Society, Solitude, Suspend Judgment, Weekend Writing Prompt 23 Comments

(Photo: Kajetan Sumila on Unsplash)

He was, but not quite, a solitudinarian.

He lived alone. His homestead perched atop a bluff where steep trails provided an effective fencing.

He offered bare gruff care for stranded hikers whose calculations of the weather led them to beg shelter.

Townspeople cast shadows on his hermitage. No sane man, they insisted, would give up their company.

He differed.

He came down from the mountain only rarely, for provisions he could not otherwise procure, his expression ascertaining that friendship remained off that list.

And yet.

He loved. The one. Before.

For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt: solitudinarian in 90 words