Tag: stories

The Līgo Haībun Challenge ~ Prompt “Bouquet”/”Bouquet of Flowers”/”Flower”

bigstock-Beautiful-nude-female-body-sil-18840731Innocence  becomes past tense as he attempts to pluck red petals  from between her ebony thighs… His dream finally coming to fruition- to make a woman of his lover.  Dare he say, its not quite the experience he had envisaged- She claws away into his Nubian skin, screaming as he penetrates, taking his time the best he can. Tears trickle down the corners of her eyes as her body gently rocks to the motion of his love inside her.

In time he races on feverishly, drenched in perspiration- eyes shut to avoid the gory shade that probably masks his groin and surely marks the sheets … in that moment her flower is lost forever. The innocent girl he lay ever so gently on her back now raises her womanly hips to the occasion in wild ecstasy- Her body, overwhelmed by  new feelings of pain, but more pleasure bucks, reals and twists, her fingers easing off on their grip of his skin. This is where true victory lies- not in the breaking of the hymen, but to feel the wild, involuntary spasms from her virgin torso. Is there anything sweeter than this?….

˜˜
Claiming her bouquet
He thinks not of tomorrow
…She thinks forever
_____________________________________________________

 Ligo-Challenge-

Our  Līgo Haībun Challenge normally has a word limit of up to 220 words or less inc the haiku / of course more than one haiku can be used to conclude your piece.

According to Wikipedia: The term “haibun” was first used by the 17th century Japanese poet, Matsuo Bashō. Bashō was a prominent early writer of haibun, then a new genre combining classical prototypes.  He wrote some haibun as travel accounts during his various journeys, the most famous of which is Oku no Hosomichi(Narrow Road to the Interior). Bashō’s shorter haibun include compositions devoted to travel and others focusing on character sketches, landscape scenes, anecdotal vignettes and occasional writings written to honor a specific patron or event. His Hut of the Phantom Dwelling can be classified as an essay while, in Saga Nikki (Saga Diary), he documents his day-to-day activities with his disciples on a summer retreat.

Traditional haibun typically took the form of a short description of a place, person or object, or a diary of a journey or other series of events in the poet’s life. Haibun continued to be written by later haikai poets such as Yosa Buson, Kobayashi Issa and Masaoka Shiki.

Haibun in English

Haibun has established itself as a genre in world literature which has gained momentum in recent years.

The first contest for English-language haibun took place in 1996. The first anthology of English-language haibun was Bruce Ross‘s Journey to the Interior: American Versions of Haibun (Tuttle), published in 1998.

The haībun format here for the Līgo Haībun Challenge is as follows ~

A paragraph (more than one paragraph is fine, or just a few sentences) in prose form of either

  • a descriptive passage , or excerpt from a story/or previously published post
  • an explanation 
  • a tale
  • a travelogue
  • a news item
  • a recipe

and

  • the haiku/collection of haiku related to the text  to close

THE LIGO HAIBUN NORMALLY SHOULD BE A TOTAL 220 WORDS **OR LESS**

-if you should like please do supply an image/images to go with your post.

The most appreciated haībun (MAXIMUM of 3 per week) will get an “honourable mention in dispatches”, and all contributors will be featured in the weekly Līgo Editions Paper circulated online to twitter, facebook, tumblr., subscribing emails and anywhere else you’d like it to go. The link currently only features example articles.

Bloggers will regularily be invited to join Līgo Editions to form an invitation panel to recommend posts for “honourable mention.”  Current panel members – Managua Gunn, Ese, Sarah Potter

Use the vintage  Scriber badge with pride on your post or sidebar – and please do link back here on your post to help the circle widen. Below you’ll find a link to post your haībun.

Good luck!

An untitled dream work…

How do I tell a story of night, what words would truly express the moment’s horror? Lend me your thoughts and I will borrow you my imagination, if only for you to experience fully the act that is to ensue.
This is a story of  one, once man…
Now immortal…
One cursed…

(Please listen as you read)

……

Steal away with me into the night

to a Bastion beyond  many hills, where

darkness looms, time stands still

a realm of the no longer beating heart

to the land of  a damned immortal

… a creatures of the night

Walk with me through these dark corridors

Hold your torch o so tightly…

Its fainting walls whispering tales of centuries

Weakened structures caked with dust

Listen to the moaning winds…

or could it be the many ghosts that hunt its halls?

Into the belly of the fortress we make our  way,

Down winding stairways,

through darkened passages

Hold your torch O so tightly…

Come to rest at the foot of iron gates, shut.

Peer through the gaps to find a  roofless chamber

its filthy, cracked walls bare no corners.

Moon beams pierce the darkness of this dungeon devoid of shade.

At first sight  we see nothing but space and time,

a visiting rodent sneaks a look through the cracks.

Focus still and bring your attention to the heap of ash on the stoney grounds.

…

Ashes  and Silence…

A scream suddenly breaks through the hush

Shrieks that make even the moaning winds give ear

The remains slowly taking form.

Life reaching  from the depths of hell

… or is it… life?

A TORTUROUS TRANSFIGURATION WE SEE

as dust is molded into flesh and bone.

With every capillary formed, for

every flesh mounted are the painful howls 

and constricting twists and turns…

FINALLY! … Finally, returns the hush,

the transformation lay still and

we hear the winds resume its tales

The object becomes animate, as

though awoken from Hades grip.

Sitting erect, the being looks towards the gate, towards

you and I

Behold the paleness of his face, his

eyes cold as death and yet divulging torment, and

with such deep sorrow he says

This is my fate did you know

to be cursed as Prometheus

Yet even he bore a better fate than I.

For I already damned am therefore damned a second time.

Once man, now soulless creature of evening…

He sites his noble visitor making its way back into the cracks

and with the agility of a lioness he pounces.

The meal he finishes all too quickly.

Signaling in our direction he speaks once again

You would be my first choice but for these accursed bars…

hence reduced to a scavenger am I…

His emaciated form circles the room in an almost zombie like manner

He awaits the Sun…

I await the sun…

The night sky,

She is beautiful is she not?

Day light greets me and

yet I can say very light of it majesty but

plenty of its horror

In this  prison, naked to the sky

condemned am I to be tortured as Helios rages on.

My flesh melts before my very eyes

and what is left of my soul is torn to a thousand pieces

His laments, shrill…

What would Prometheus know of pain?!

Zeus is less a devil than my captor!… These walls!

O that my ashes be scattered to the four winds to end my suffering!

FREE ME!!!

His monologue is halted by the flicker of light from the east.

Dawn approaches, and

with it his executioner … A ball of fire

His eyes resume the horror from the moment he woke

Now frantically  wandering the room as though in search of a place to hide,

Psychological torture besest him as he envisages the pain soon to come.

We watch as though through a peep hole  of a sanitarium, this

tortured soul kicking and screaming, violently

throwing himself against the chamber walls

(…. So this is the cause of such filth and wreckage)

No white, softly padded walls to cushion his impact,

No straight jacket to prevent him cutting and scratching, that

he does in order to sensitize himself towards the impending affliction.

With the last vestige of courage he raises his voice:

SUN BE DAMNED TO HELL!

 He then curls up like a child in where he best assumes a corner

as one defeated.

Cradling himself he mutters:

No more, No more…

The Sun slowly bearing its face, its

rays descend the Vampire’s uncovered tomb.

Cradling even faster,

His words more audios

NO MORE!

NO MORE!!

NO MORE!!!

NO MORE!!!!

Witness his backward transition

Melting flesh and bone,

to blood,

to ash.

Torturous screams return this shredded soul once again to temporary death.

A heap of dust once more, Silence

fills the room

Helios smiles down on what is left of our performer

As all the world is a stage…

We applaud, You and I, and

then depart through the dark and twisted maze

of imagination’s fort.

…

Hold your torch o so tightly…

“Everything you can imagine is real.”
― Pablo Picasso

Fighting his way back home to you…

6.30 in the P.M and just got off the grinder. Peak period for traffic so I’m killing time at the bar round the corner from my office. Its a day like any. I’m tired. I’ve got my sleeves rolled up and my tie undone and I’m sipping on a LARGE glass of larger. I’m having a mental conversation with myself about the happenings of the day when I spot this fine a.. sister about to leave the room. Conversation between me and my mind quickly switches from stories of a hard days work to descriptions of  the vision of absolute sin standing before us.

Now I had hoped she’d do me a favour by just walking past and never looking back. That would have saved me the mental and emotional effort that came with fighting the welling temptation now steering up inside of me, but she didn’t. The siren took my breathe away from the moment my eyes left her backside and unconsciously met with hers pair of … not sure how to describe those eyes of hers. Yes, she noticed me too, but how on earth was I suppose to be glad about that?!

Surely if it was back in the day when a brother didn’t have a woman and the responsibility of a family… well you know the rest. Sadly, Christmas had only come TOO LATE. Damn that Santa Claus!, dishing out the coal all those years only to throw this wonderful gift of lust down my chimney now my hands are tied!

Eye contact must have been for a few seconds but in that time I felt like I had been sucked into eternity. All the should have, could have, would have’s flashed before my imaginative eyes and in that moment I had to muster every drop of will power  to pull myself out of those  pools of sweet seduction.

Self snapped back to reality, I look at my watch and then at my wedding ring while making a fist out of shear male frustration… breathing a sigh of what then seemed like disappointment I look back at her and she’s already got her back turned on me and is walking into the distance. Eyes back on her rolling ass again…  I sigh but this time sure that its in relief.

“A fine day its been so far” I tell my mind, resuming our conversation. “I dodged a bullet and still came out feeling like a sex A real man gives up one night stands for a woman he can't stand one night without.symbol ” 😉

Just thought I would appreciate what a lot of guys go through for the women they love. You are appreciated fellas! 😉

BOX by Dan Robert

Prologue- Remember?

Hold my hand please.

The rain doesn’t feel like rain anymore. It feels like…

Hold my hand.

When I moved, it moved; it swayed this way and that just like the car in that crash. Remember the car crash? The rain poured, and we watched, and the car came, and we watched, and the car swayed this way and that, and we watched. Remember the car crash?

Hold my..

I really want to, but what if it sees us. It thinks its had us, finished us for good. When I moved, it moved; it shifted this way and that. Why don’t we remain like this, shut our eyes and think thoughts? Don’t think about the car crash, think other thoughts. Close your eyes. Remember last spring when you..

Hold­..

You were exceptionally pretty that spring, Anastasia. And we went to the lake. Remember? We sat on that large rock. You named the rock Sir Wobbles because you believed it wobbled whenever you weren’t paying attention. I kept telling you I couldn’t feel it wobble. We had to agree you were imagining things. Just like you to think your imagination could move a rock. I never told you this: Sir Wobbles actually shook. I planned on telling you but I must have forgotten. Remember when the rain came and we rushed into the tiny shed and lit the stove? You looked beautiful in that light, Anastasia. Remember? Remember, Anastasia?

Anastasia?

Anastasia?

Ana..

Meet Dan Robert,
Dan Robert
Apparently a pseudonym but none the less the character in question, real. 🙂 The piece you just read is an abstract from a writing project of his.
Get to know more about Dan Robert at www.wattpad.com by clicking on his photograph, and for more from his book “BOX”, kindly click on the picture above.
Comments, Suggestions, Critique will ALL be appreciated… but lets keep it healthy shall we people ;)… and for updates on how the story progresses you can like his Facebook Page (link: Dan Robert)
I can’t wait for the book to be finished!… I get the first, OK the 2nd published copy and an autograph… Right Dan?! 😐
 
Well until next time folks 🙂 … Cheers! 😉

Those Five Little Words… No, Six!

I’M IN LOVE WITH YOU!

 I thought the human race being the intelligent creatures we are, usually invent and come up with the easiest and shortest ways around  situations!? We got tired of candles, someone invented the light bulb; We got tired of walking, people started coming up with all modes of transportation. In the new age of texting we’ve come up with slangs such as “brb” , “ttyl” and “lol” just so we don’t have to go through the rigors of bogus words and sentences (yawning lazily); Microchips have shrunken to the Nano and so on…. So how is it that a simple 3 word sentence like “I love you” gets to be stretched out to one of 5 or 6 words instead? Well I have a theory…

The Player of the Middle Ages

It turns out that the phrase “fall in love” is  connected to the idea of “falling head over heels,” which was used in the 1300s, and is another term for being struck suddenly by great romantic attraction to someone else. (Excerpt from wisegeek.com)

The key phrase here is “Romantic attraction” people. What is that?! You either love the person or you don’t! Or why not just say “I’m romantically attracted to you”, and quit confusing people? Its all based on chemicals I tell you!

Okay back to the subject matter… my theory of the origin of this appalling modification.

Well there is no easy way for me to say this but if this sentence can actually be linked back to the 1300s then I believe it was coined up by some womanizing Knight, for some unfortunate fair maiden. No, scratch that! More a Troubadour than a Knight…. or maybe he was both.

In his bid to woo this fair lady he will do all he can to win her affection but his honor will not allow him speak those  3 sacred words in deceit. It would be sacrilege! (…maybe he’s a Knight after all)

There’s the option of him saying “I lust you”, but then in an era of chivalry such as his, he has no intention of devaluing the virtue of his one night stand, not verbally anyway. He writes her shams of love letters and poetry telling her how beautiful she is; How the shape of her eyes reminds him of stars and all that jazz, but the player still doesn’t score. This maiden is a hard nut to crack, a challenge, but he will not back down! (…definitely a Knight!)

The situation calls for drastic measures. He now realises how desperately he has to incorporate the sacred words into his libretto or else risk losing out on this conquest. A bulb lights up in his head. Eureka!

(The Victorian Player)

Down on one knee; her hand in his, he speaks the words ….”I am in Love with You”.

SCORE!!!!!!!!!

The maiden is flustered. She takes the bate all because somewhere in that sentence she hears I, Love and You. Its a happy day for both parties. She goes away feeling that she has the heart of a man now and he goes away with the experience of them doing the nasty somewhere in the woods or perhaps even in a barn.

They probably meet the next day and he pretends like nothing has transpired between them, and when she asks about his words of love he then repeats his statement s-l-o-w-l-y, adding that it was actually a declaration of his “Burning desire”. She really can’t argue with his defense so I’m guessing she ends up throwing herself off a bridge or something… And so birthed the era of damage and heartbreak all because of 5, no, 6 little words. The invention of this lengthier statement has however aided a cult of people since then. Till this very day, in the wrong hands it is one of the most valued weapons used in hurting the vulnerable heart.

Casanova may have got all the credit for being the god father of womanizers but trust me, the faceless individual with the gumption to come up with a sentence so strong, so passionate, so intense would definitely have bagged a whole lot more chicks than dear  Giacomo.

But I think I would have done it even better… Why waste time thinking up new sentences when all you need do is say “I LOVE YOU”, fingers crossed?

…JUST MESSING WITH YAL!!!! 😉

“Love is a fire. But whether it is going to warm your heart, or burn down your house, you can never tell.”

-Joan Crawford

Her Real Awakening

6:20A.M:
The sky slowly lights up and rays from the still hidden sun softly filter into a dimly lit bedroom, to reveal a dark, feminine figure tossing uncomfortably on her bed. Her body, unwilling to wake continues to fight the break of day , yet in her subconscious she begins to narrate her daily anthem :

“Sometimes I wake in the night. Alone. Thoughts of decisions made. Thoughts of opportunities. Gone. I toss, I turn, and eventually sleep again. I wake to a new dawn, wiser. I awake to the first day….. of the rest of my life”

 Approaching the end of her mental monologue, she lay still on her back. Eyes shut, she inhales deeply,  and as air is released from her chest  her eyes pop wide open. This is her daily ritual for embracing the dawn after which she usually springs up to begin a new day. Today however things have taken on a different shape. Her ritual lacks its edge. On a normal morning everything she did was marked from the moment the sun began to peep through the horizon to her recital and everything else that followed, but presently she seemed stuck  in the moment “embracing the dawn” for much longer that usual. She lay almost lifeless in bed as though desiring for time to stand still. She found herself going over the anthem again and again, and the more she did the more paralyzed she felt. The words seem to take on new meaning today. An expected reaction of course for a woman only hours away from her 3oth birthday. In retrospect surely she had taken a lot for granted in her life time leading her to miss out on A LOT of opportunities, which included a few marriage proposals here and there. Regret was normal for a woman her age, but sadly she doubted that she had learned much from her mistake or that she was any wiser today. Her babyish looks and her overly free spirited way of life seemed to have been her curse.
Summoning up nerve she finally manages to drag herself out of bed to commence her last experience as a woman of the 20’s club. Slowly making her way towards the bathroom she heads straight for the sink. A splash of ice cold water on the face seems to do her some good when she pauses again at the sight of her own reflection in the mirror, and once again she is thrown into a state of panic. Maybe its her imagination but she suddenly notices stress lines and wrinkles across her face that may or may not have been there the night before. A some-what thorough inspection of her facial features is carried out. She pokes and pulls at the skin and at the same time makes funny faces to ease the tension welling up inside her.”You done dey old o babe” she says under her breath while looking back at her untidy frame and playfully pulling at her kinky locks of hair. Standing erect and very still she stares seriously at the mid-aged reflection of herself and suddenly realizes how  ironic the phrase”I awake to the first day….. of the rest of my life”  seems for that very moment in time. Yes, it is her first day…and yet her last as she dies to one decade to be born into the next. She smiles….


Her Morning Elegance

 

Its morning, She rises up same time as every other day, and with a wide smile on her face she stretches and gives out  a “GOOD MORNING!” This of course does not go down too well with her partner who irritably grabs the pillow from her side of the bed and hurriedly places it over his head as he buries his face in the one beneath him. He absolutely hated those “Good Morning” moments.

Despite the fact that he has become accustom to the episode each time she wakes beside him, i.e. Her going off like a village rooster, the insecure bloke is more upset and resentful of the way she sounds each time she  gives the customary salutation. Its comes out with this rapturous burst of energy… “How come I never make you sound that way at night?” he says unable to conceal his envy any longer. “Excuse me!” She replies as she turns in surprise, unsure of the muffled words that have come from within the pillows. With his face off the pillow this time he repeats his question, but unable to look her in the eyes as he does. “How come I never make you sound that way at night?” After a few seconds of shocking silence she lifts herself from the other side of the bed where she’s seated; In his baggy “Tees” she laughingly jumps on the back of her sulking lover. “You are such a child” she says as she plays with his ear lobes.

Seductively she lays on his bare back and whispers:

“Why feel spite for the morning, is she not good? Why vex as I salute day’s dawning? It is only with gratitude…

Do not compare my heightened sound of day to my lowly moans of night, when your hands, your lips, your skin upon me fill me with delight.  

You desire screams as our bodies entwine and I reel in orgasmic pleasure? Well forgive me as the words lay caught in my throat while the moment I treasure.

Be not jealous of the morning and the excitement she brings me, but bless her as she gives way to the evening, and into the night once again we will be”

“This is some real Shakespearean ish” he says to himself as she nibbles on his right ear lobe and with her fingers plays with the hair on his naked back…. But hey, it worked! His supremacy over the morning is finally restored! He turns, and taking her in his arms plants a long kiss on her lips and with a look of mischief in his eyes he says “well the morning can have your screaming salutations, I on the other hand can make you moan whenever the hell I want!” She giggles as they kiss.

….. And morning becomes night 😉

 

 

 

 

Dinner Gone Wrong

https://i0.wp.com/files.rakuten.de/baf90b53245b382f140168c15abcfb1e/images/754aff5f2eb41b1b49f68a704606da16.jpgDay broke as she sat  alone before  a set and yet untouched dinner table surrounded by  Burnt out scented candles. With blood shot eyes and a gloomy demeanor, benefits of tears from the night before, she proceeded to strip her surrounding of the  mood she had set for a would be romantic evening with “Baby” the night before… Too bad Baby didn’t make it home. Its not unusual, Baby is a hard worker and hardly makes it home most nights anyway, but at least this time he could have called!

This was one of their many tales of “Dinner gone wrong”, only in this case he had made the mistake of letting it play out on their anniversary, “the very first and the last of them” she thought to herself as she threw  their anniversary dinner in the trash.  She wonders how she has made it through a year with this giver of little or no time; How she even came to bear his name in the first place still partially remains a mystery to her! “Damn Las Vegas and their unholy rituals of matrimony! Damn drunkenness and debauchery and damn her staunch  catholic faith” she thought. Although  over the months she had come to love him as a husband the only true fact of their marriage was that in one night she and Baby had gone from being two best friends on a wild holiday, to man and wife.

Their “I dos'” had been said in a state of drunkenness and  stupor. Even in that moment of cleaning away she was unable to recollect what actually happened that night in Vegas,  sadly marriage only started for her when she  woke  with a deathly hangover to find a cheap-ass ring on her wedding finger.  It was only a year ago yesterday but the wedding band already looked a decade old! Gold had faded to copper, which now reacted with sweat on her finger leaving a green stain each time she removed it.

She pauses and looks down at the piece of bondage fitted snugly on her hand.  Suddenly ripping it off, she gives off a scream that sounds almost like the  whistle of an old model train. “BABY MY ASS!” she bellows… The pad is almost back to normal now, but in her rage she turns a room previously set for romance and presently near tidy into a den for venting off her frustration. She breaks and tears and pulls and throws aside.

Barging into their bedroom she grabs Baby’s shoes, his clothes and whatever else of his she can find; as many as she can carry at a time. Out the door, into the front yard and on the paved floor they go!  Her sanity seems to return with the last of his things out the door. Standing at the foot of the entrance she stares down at the mess she had made of Baby’s things and lets out a sigh of satisfaction, “that will teach him!” she murmurs. Now calm, she finds that she and her house have been the object of attention to anyone who cared to notice… MANY noticed! She also realised that she was not exactly in the proper attire to be seen by her unsuspecting audience. The brand new baby doll lingerie  was meant for Baby’s eyes only. Giving a weak smile at anyone whose eyes met with hers, she calmly backs into the house, but just as she shuts the door a car pulls into the drive way running over a leg of a pair of pure leather Gucci shoes, Baby’s of course.

Almost stumbling she  hurriedly made it out the door; not caring this time who saw, she advanced to witness the look of horror on Baby’s face only to be filled with a horror of her own. By the car stood Baby with a bouquet of  flowers in hand and buried within, a box with a wedding ring more grand. Apparently Baby had played a prank that ended up going south on him.

Although little could be remembered of her wedding day, what she seemed to forget was the date, the 1st of April. This would be her undoing. Baby had managed to mess with the dates and her mind the day before and in her carelessness  she too had lived through their wedding anniversary a day too soon….  Oops! 😉

It was definitely one of their many tales of “Dinner gone wrong”, but perhaps the worst ever…

ME!!!!!!

To Women dealing with Alopecia…

To whom this may concern,

This is just to let you know that you are not alone in the battle against “Alopecia” of any kind. My first experience of major hair loss was in 2007, I have been a victim of “Alopecia areata” ever since. Can’t say its been easy.  I initially  had to battle with a self-esteem problem.

It was one thing when I finally decided to own up to the problem and totally shave my hair
off in late 2008, but making a topic of the issue and writing about it REALLY made the difference.

In “An Ode to My Hair” , which I wrote in early 2011, I was able to make fun of myself for the first time, while simultaneously educating people on what it was that had brought me to the point of my shaven head.

I just recently made some more noise about this hair of mine, Its more on the positive side though. The growth of my hair seems to be improving and so I have written “Hey Alopecia Sister!” as a sort of celebration (lol!).

I am aware that these posts have been and will be viewed, but what I do hope is for some Alopecia Sister to actually see these posts, and be left with a smile across her face.
… you are not alone.
For more on me and my hair please meet me at “Hair Chronicles” … See you there! 😉