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This entry is for Friday 5 at Poefusion. The five words are: duple, scheme, vintage, harbor and cease.
there in the glass window
a duple rainbow
in purple and silver
blinding her with desire
she press her hands against the glass
eyes widening
harboring a longing for them
ceasing to calm down from the high
she glance over at him
with a scheming look in her eyes
his head shaking "no"
"but it's vintage" she said softly
her palms form sweat prints on the glass
as he slowly pulls her away
her eyes still on them
a week passed by
and christmas came
arriving in her hands
a blue box with white ribbons
inside a pair of earrings
purple and silver
like she wanted
she glance up at him with a confuse look
"but it's vintage" he said
a smile forming on his lovely face
as he place a kiss upon her
leaving his love on her lips
she glance up at him
beaming with joy
A Christmas Gift
Letter from Isabelle 2
This entry is for 3WW. This week's words are: Afford, Cigarette, Dim. Read part 1 here.
Date: December 22, 2000
Dear L,
It's been a year since I wrote to you but the weather stayed the same. Cold and damp, forever cloudy. So here I am riding the train, on my way to work, writing this. I don't know why I have this sudden need to do this right now. Just that I do. It was always at this time of the year that I would miss you. You have always loved Christmas and wrapping presents. You said you love giving presents even to strangers, love seeing the joy on someone's face whenever they are unwrapping a present, especially one from you.
The train's empty today. I feel strange and weary like I haven't slept for weeks. There's a child - a girl with rosy cheeks and sad eyes - sitting across from me, staring at me as I write this. Makes me sad just looking at her, her hair all dishevel like that. I look away and down at the piece of paper I am writing this on. The train kept moving and stopping, making my words all messy like a badly drawn cartoon.
There's an odd feeling here. The emptiness of the train seem to fill my thoughts. Of those few faces that occupy this train, they look so gloomy, so desolate. It puts into perspective of how I am feeling. That empty hole where I used to be. Still empty, growing bigger as the days go by.
Why does it take so long for someone to forgive and forget? Was I part of the reason that cause you to run away, to leave without any words? I remember you were giving clues away at dinner a few night before you left. I must have known but didn't put it together. You had a smile on your face but you weren't smiling. Your eyes, they frown almost effortlessly as you looked towards me when our Dad mention special places for you to go and get better. I had looked away from you knowing I could not give you any answers. I felt ashamed I could not defend you against their appeals.
The guy across from me has a big bandaid across his cheeks, reminding me of what I've done. I didn't throw that vase at you intentionally, I thought I would miss since I have such a bad aim. I was careless, I thought you were crazy when you told me things that I didn't want to hear, that our parents were right, that you needed to change. To reform myself, you said. To be someone new again, someone more acceptable to the family. I didn't want to listen, I wanted you to stop talking, to stop saying things you don't mean. I didn't realize I had picked up the vase.
I threw the vase without thinking, not knowing where it will land. It hit the side of your face, causing red liquid to drip onto the white carpet. You said nothing as you touched your face. I looked on in horror, waiting for a respond but you tasted the blood on your finger and walked out. Next week, you pretend everything was alright, we were riding the train to school. I stared at your scared face but you just smiled, holding onto the pole, your pink shirt popping out of your black jacket. Your silver cigarette lighter in your hand, shining dimly in the morning sunlight. You always like carrying it around even when you don't smoke.
That day, you said you might have plans to leave, not just me but the family. Your smile faded as you spoke. I tried to understand but your words, they were hidden inside, away from me. You talked as if I understood you but I didn't. I just nodded my head wishing you weren't leave me. It's true, you were different, I have accepted that. You were not a girl nor a guy but somewhere in between. I thought you were perfect. Born on the same day, my best friend, my twin, that was you. You were not a whole person but one half of me. There was no one else who can understand me.
I've search for you soon after you've left. But you were gone. Invisible, it seem. There was no trace of you. Mom and Dad didn't even bother looking for you. They said they couldn't afford to waste time on you. They had dismissed you. Out of their lives, they said, no longer their son. They often asked me if I know where you were but when I shake my head no, their eyes would frown down as if they, too regret, the things that were spoken.
You said words are healing. You said if I write them down, I would feel better. I don't feel any better than I did last year when I wrote you that letter. Still I search for you. In empty trains, in the rain, in the clouds and the sky, in the words that are spoken out loud by strangers, in the letters that I write but couldn't send. You're everywhere and nowhere.
I will rip this letter into a million pieces and scatter them all over the city, maybe then you will hear me.
Isabelle.
Read part 3 here.
Memories
This entry is for Monday Mural. Photo by Michelle Johnson.
her hideaway
empty now
too much darkness
eating into her heart
loosing weight as she fall deeper down
onto dried land
bending her knees
staring up at her house
a vacant chimney
tears flying down her cheeks
a rush of emotions covers her
a hand, a warm touch
lifts her up
into his arms she felt a memory
his heart beating strong
his smile warming her face
memories resurface
as they walk away together
hand in hand
Letter from Isabelle 1
This entry is for Writers Island.
Date: December 3, 1999
Dear L,
Today, the sun refused to show, hiding in the clouds, darkness covering the sky and the city. It make me feel gloomy as I open my sleepy eyes. I did not want to go to work but I had taken too many sick days. So I drag myself out of bed.
Two years. That is how long since we saw each other. The days, they flew by without a single thought of you. But today, today riding the train, you appear. I was not thinking of you but your tan face appear standing next to me, holding onto the pole as I was. I thought, how strange I should be thinking of you after so many years apart. But I remember. Your face, unchanged, same as before, smiling at me. The scar on your cheek, still there, just a little faded. I am still very sorry about that. I hope you have forgiven me as I have forgiven you. As I tried to shift my thoughts away from you, it's stubbornness keep returning to you.
It started to rain lightly, splashing onto the train windows, blurring my view of the outside. Someone stepped on my foot. I moved a little towards the doors.
I arrived to work late due to train delays in both directions but so was everyone else. I was glad I was busy today. Thoughts of you vanished as soon as I started on my work - which seem to always pile up on Fridays.
On my way home, the rain pour heavily as I got out of the train station. I still got wet even with my big black umbrella. Someone bumped into me and I fell down onto the pavement, my umbrella falling down with me. Someone helped me up and sticked my umbrella back into my hand but I was already too wet.
It's as if it wants to rain down on me. Reminded me of that song by that British guy who used to be a drummer. How does it go? "...I wish it would rain down, down on me. oh yeah, I wish it would rain on me..." I think that's how it goes. A sad song. I listened to it when I got home from work. Laying in bed with the sheets over my face. It made me cry. I remembered it was raining when you left. Not heavy or light but just the right amount to add to the sadness and the gloom. But...forget it. That was the past.
I don't want to say much for now. So I leave you with a photo that I have taken this morning. I hope your day isn't as gloomy or wet.
Isabelle
Read part 2 here.
Linger
Friday 5 - trying a new prompt from Poefusion. This week's five words are: dulcinea, sequence, graft, rind, calved.
shifting inside this large shirt
left by another
long and close to my knee
pulling at the edges
with my fingertips
his scent still lingering inside
the collar,
the buttons,
the sleeves,
loosen with time
threads sticking out
the crisscross rind sequences fading away
graft by loose blue threads
what's left
calve into bits and pieces
still I wear
every day
hot or cold
rain or shine
the scent still there
forever with me
my opposite dulcinea
Feverish
Trying a new prompt - Friday 5 - from Poefusion. Last week's five words are: theater, malaria, incalescence, yield, leaf.
lost in the dazzling forest
I wander
cycles of distant voices whisper in my ears
I yield to their callings
my body follow, incalescence with malaria
falling like the last leaf from a dying tree
I open my sleepy eyes
to dark theater surroundings
large arms wrapped around me
I turn away from the glowing blue face
towards the images blinking across the screen
The Dream
This entry is for Writers Island.
He wanted money. He pulled out a long knife, pointing at me, told me to give him my wallet. I pull it out of my coat pocket and held it out to him. He took it swiftly and stuff it in his back pants pocket. Shaking in my winter coat, I hoped he would leave but he stayed. He asked me for my car keys. I told him it wasn't my car and that my husband was inside that store over there, he has the keys. We just stopped to get some snacks. I pointed a gloved hand straight behind him. He turned around to look for a second, then back at me, his big brown eyes shinning in the street lights. He has a small dark spot underneath the right eye.
I was supposed to wait inside the car but felt it was too stifling. We have been driving straight for three hours. I got out of the car into the chilly air. I saw him coming towards me but stay frozen in my spot, too afraid to move.
Now standing here, looking at this man hiding his face in a large black scarf, covered in a big black coat, I felt a chill running up and down my spine. I couldn't move or say much more. I can see he was a little nervous by the way his eyes kept jumping around. He was indecisive, looking behind him at the store and back towards me.
Finally, he decided to leave. He took one look at me and ran off into the dark night. I stared at his back, becoming smaller and smaller. I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to digest what just happened.
I heard a knock. I open my eyes to see my husband looking at me through the car door. When did I got in the car? And when did I put my seat belt on?
"What happen?" I asked him and pulling the window down and looking at him, feeling confused.
"You fell asleep," he said as he came around the car and pulled the door open.
I felt sluggish as the car started to move. Was it a dream or did it really happen? I looked at my husband, his hands on the wheel. He turned to smile at me then turn his eyes back on the road. I wanted to asked him if he had saw anything but didn't. It must be a dream.
We were heading to a wedding after party. There were valets but my husband chose to park his own car. He asked me if I got any change for the meter. I shoved my hands into my coat pockets but felt nothing. My wallet was not there. I asked him if he had seem my wallet and he said,"It's in your coat pocket. I saw you put it there when we left the house." He was staring straight ahead. I told him, I couldn't find it.
Finally, arriving at the party, I swear I almost fainted when I saw who the groom was. He had the same big brown eyes with the dark spot under the right eye. He smiled at me as if he knew something. But it couldn't have been him. It's not like he robbed me and then rushed off to his own wedding party. I laughed for being so silly. My husband asked what I was laughing at. I said it was nothing.
As we got set to leave, I saw him again, getting into a limousine. He was wearing a big black coat with a big scarf wrapped around his head. I quickly turn away. Did he really wink at me or was I hallucinating?
Friendship
This entry is for Writers Island.
letters, memories, tokens
spreading thousands of miles
sitting on a plane
thoughts of your smiling face
spring on suddenly
hugs open wide
tears falling
shoulders warm
smiles aplenty
hellos all around
tea with lemon
face to face
words pour out like crazy
ten years
nothing lost
laughing and reminiscing
times fly
friendship everlasting
Elephant Love
This week's words are: Compensate, Modern, Radio. Read other 3WW here.
To compensate for his mistake, he had brought her an elephant. A necklace, that is, with a round silver metal with an drawing of an elephant in the center. The elephant was her favorite animal when she was a little girl and seeing one always make her happy.
How modern it was for her to emailed him to said she doesn't love him anymore and that she had fallen in love with an elephant trainer for the circus and that they were on a plane to Mexico as the email was being sent to him.
His anger grew as he realized that he had spent almost a fortune buying her that necklace and now she has it and he'll probably never see her again. He felt stupid for to sending it to her instead of waiting to give it to her in person.
As he trashed his house, throwing stuff around - her stuff - he accidently knocked his radio onto the floor. It turned itself on playing their song, "Love will keep us alive," which he had always thought was so cheesy but didn't complain about it. He remembered when she told him that was the song, their song. It was at a friend's wedding and he was forced to dance with some old woman who kept pinching his ass even when he told her not to. He had to be nice to her because it was his friend's grandmother.
How strange that it was the only thing he remembered that day. Not her dress, not her eyes or even how she had had kissed him when she told him to listen to the song that was softly playing.
As he surveyed the mess, he can see all the precious things that he had brought her - the big elephant statue which laid scattered in pieces on the floor, the large amount of crystal lamps, the painting of an old man that she begged him to get her, the piles of expensive designer clothes which was only wore once, on and on. Why did he think he can buy her love? Why didn't he said no?
He decided to throw them all out. He gather them in a two large trash bags, then set them out on the curb. He waited for the trash men to come around. He didn't feel empty or whole but just a little satisfied. She had wanted him to send them to her. It was a short sentence at the bottom of the email in very large letters. He had emailed back that the house caught fire and that all her stuff got burnt so badly that she probably wouldn't want them anyway.
He smiled to himself as he watched the garbage men tossed them into the truck, getting crushed into million of pieces.
My NaNoWriMo project
My NaNoWriMo project will be posted on this new site: The Accidental Writer. All excerpts and notes will be post there.
Good luck to those are participating!
Unforgettable
This entry is for Writers Island.
unforgettable
he was
with his subtle gaze, his gentle voice
softly whispering in the wind
fading in and out
his jacket hanging loosely on her shoulders
eyes half closed
lost in the moment
listening to
his words of forgiveness and such
what wonderment did she see in those eyes
what would he said if he knew of her
of her heart
pale skin softly frame by white shirt collars
hair blowing gently in the breeze
going down into darkness
cover by brown sandy flakes
white lines falling from the sky
darkening the ground
slowly than speeding up
as the crowd disperse
she waited
alone she stood
knowing he knew
all this time
even if she never told him
lissa