Day and Night, #poetry

Day and Night, by Pamela Schloesser Canepa, (c) 2021

“I am rest and respite.”

“But I am energy and light.”

“You are dangerous and fiery hot.”

“So, I make plants grow, and you do not.”

“Don’t be so sure, for I inspire the tides.”

“Well, I inspire humans to come outside.”

“Must we fight to have a place?”

“Well neither of us should feel disgrace.”

“Perhaps we should just compromise?”

“Yes, yes, that would be most wise.”

“So, it seems now that we agree.”

“Yes, humans benefit from both you and me.”

“Who will rule at what time? I just don’t know…”

“Of course, an unbiased decision, so let us go ask the crow.”

Off they went to clarify,

The crow, without chaos, would decide…

And today, we have both the moon and the sun

For we could not survive without either one.

* A poem inspired by “Animal Wisdom” by Nancy Wood. Based on the line, “Darkness and light settled their differences.”

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Home. #RDP #homeless

It was early morning, in a park on the bay

when up comes a homeless man with a stray.

For both, it was a typical day,

But Chester, excitedly, approached to play.

 

“Chester, come back,” his owner called nervously.

“It’s okay, Shoo-Shoo won’t bite,” the homeless man said with a wide smile.

So the owner sat down, keeping his distance.

“Why do you look so happy?” Chester asked.  “You both have to search for food and find benches to sleep on, right? My owner always warns me when I go up to a stray, homeless animal.”

“But you don’t listen, do you?”  The stray said, smiling.

Chester shook his head.  “I guess I’m too curious.”

“I’m smiling because the sun is up, my master still loves and appreciates me, and I have made a new friend today: you.  That doesn’t happen everyday.”

“I am amazed that you are so happy with so little, you don’t even have a home,” Chester said.

Shoo-Shoo nodded toward his owner.  “Jackson is my home, and I am his.  My home is always with Jackson.  We are always there for each other.  He feeds me even when he is going hungry, and I share scraps with him. We are always by each other’s side.”

Imagine that, Chester thought.  “Watch this,” Chester pleaded, walking to his owner.  He put up his paws in the begging posture, and his owner gave him a treat.

Chester walked over to Shoo-Shoo and dropped the treat, tail wagging.

“Look at that, you have a generous dog, Mister,” the homeless man, Jackson, remarked.

“Ah, he surprises me sometimes.” Chester’s owner seemed to shrink into himself.

“Why’d you do this?” Shoo-Shoo asked Chester, taking the treat into his mouth.

“Your attitude inspired me, Shoo-Shoo.”  It was true.

His owner was gesturing that their time was up, though Chester wished he could stay out here all day like Shoo-Shoo and Jackson.  Well, maybe not if it rained.  He wondered what they would do if that happened.  Going to his master’s side, he called, “We’ll be back. I hope to see you again.  There will be more treats!”

“I hope to see you too!” Shoo-Shoo called.  “You are so kind!”

Chester’s owner put the leash back on and took him to the mini-van.  They were back at the park the next week.  Chester didn’t see Shoo-Shoo and Jackson there, but he never forget the lesson: Home is where the heart is.  He would still be looking for Shoo-Shoo every time at the park, hoping for another encounter with the wise, happy dog.

*#RDP is a daily, one-word prompt given at the Ragtag Community WordPress site.  View today’s entries at https://ragtagcommunity.wordpress.com/2020/08/06/rdp-thursday-homeless/

Photo by bin Ziegler on Pexels.com

I Took the Fall, a repost from my archives. #flashfiction

“I Took the Fall,” by Pamela Schloesser Canepa, (c) 2017.   I hereby declared Tuesdays to be Short Tales Tuesday, wherein I will post a new or a past short story or flash fiction I have written. Enjoy!

I headed back to the yard with my garden hoe.  I hate killing living things, but this bugger looked poisonous.  He was further back in the brush.

“Sure, you keep your distance now.”  I sat on the ground, sweating.

“You would too, Missssssssss.” His tongue darted out.

I jumped.  “What?”

“Yesssss.  It’ssss me.  Come on, I am alwaysss judged by my outer cover, my ssscales sssso to sssspeak.  It’sss not fair.  All because of Hisssstory, mythology, the Bible, whatever.”

“I’m sorry.”  I looked at him through new eyes.  It had to be a he, though who could tell?

“Yessss.  Imagine what it’sss like.   Way back when, Armadillo sslipped up.  You know he’s a good candidate to stand for evil.  But no, I defended him.  I took the fall for him.”

He actually looked sad.

It seemed he’d started to trust me.  He’d slithered out from the bush.  The garden hoe was resting next to me, forgotten.

Suddenly, he sprang at me, and I was overcome, knocked down.

“S-ssssucker!”

I took the fall.

~The end~

(c) Pamela Schloesser Canepa. A re-post I originally posted in 2017 as a response to the Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers blog challenge.

 

Photo by Worldspectrum on Pexels.com

Word Play. #poetry

Photo by Ave Calvar Martinez on Pexels.com

I love words

when they gather

in obedient herds

to do my bidding

and make my point,

to let my thoughts be heard.

Though sometimes they serve me

like an unsuspecting dish.

I trip and they unnerve me.

Tongue-tied, I sit quiet

afraid they’ll have me

earning a worm-filled diet.

This is just part of the dance.

I shall never quit,

no, not a chance.

“Word Play” by Pamela Schloesser Canepa. (c) 2018

Thank you for visiting my blog!  I needed an end of the week word play, and while my brain feels sort of fried, I decided to dig up an old treasure that I had a lot of fun with two years ago.  Please do stop and visit my blog again.  And no matter what you do, speak up, join in the dance!

Photo by Mikechie Esparagoza on Pexels.com

Allies. #FFfAW #amwriting

(c) 2017 Pamela Schloesser Canepa

Thanks to Yinglan Z. for the photo prompt!

“You’re so two-dimensional,” Ralph says.

“Look at you, no substance….no meat on the bones,” Hank counters.

“Yeah, but if they clone us, they’ll use me as a model!”

“I’ll be important too.  How else would they get my teeth or tongue the right size?”

“People can stand next to me, awed by just how tall I am.”

“Same here.  This is getting old.”

“Ha, ‘old?’  Good one, Hank.”

“Seriously.  There’s a whole New Year coming up.”

“How do you know?”

“I’m a to-scale drawing.  The brain in my head is implied.”  He’d noticed the red flowers and Christmas lights had emerged again.

“Guess we really need each other, after all.  Friends?”

“Yes, friends,” Ned replied, to his only friend in the world.

**122 words

The challenge is to respond to a picture prompt, changing weekly, with a brief tale of around 100 words, plus or minus 25.  Are you up for a writing challenge?  Visit https://flashfictionforaspiringwriters.wordpress.com/2017/12/18/fffaw-challenge-week-of-december-19-2017/  to either read the other responses or view the rules for submitting your own response to this photo prompt.  It’s a lot of fun; no two people look at it the same way!  Thanks for reading!

 

 

#FlashFictionforAspiringWriters. I Took the Fall.

Photo credit, Kecia Sparlin.

I headed back to the yard with my garden hoe.  I hate killing living things, but this bugger looked poisonous.  He was further back in the brush.

“Sure, you keep your distance now.”  I sat on the ground, sweating.

“You would too, Missssssssss.” His tongue darted out.

I jumped.  “What?”

“Yesssss.  It’ssss me.  Come on, I am alwaysss judged by my outer cover, my ssscales sssso to sssspeak.  It’sss not fair.  All because of Hisssstory, mythology, the Bible, whatever.”

“I’m sorry.”  I looked at him through new eyes.  It had to be a he, though who could tell?

“Yessss.  Imagine what it’sss like.   Way back when, Armadillo sslipped up.  You know he’s a good candidate to stand for evil.  But no, I defended him.  I took the fall for him.”

He actually looked sad.

It seemed he’d started to trust me.  He’d slithered out from the bush.  The garden hoe was resting next to me, forgotten.

Suddenly, he sprang at me, and I was overcome, knocked down.

“S-ssssucker!”

I took the fall.

~The end~

(c) Pamela Schloesser Canepa

 

 

****Approx. 170 words.

From Fffaw:  This is a flash fiction challenge (stories in 100-175 words or less) and each story should have a beginning, a middle, and an end. Therefore, no serial (continuation) stories. They become too complicated for our readers.

A  prompt photo is presented every Monday, and the challenge runs to the next Monday.  Add your story to the InLinkz Link-up (Blue Froggy button). Please let me know if you need link-up instructions.  See other instructions at https://flashfictionforaspiringwriters.wordpress.com/2017/07/03/fffaw-challenge-week-of-july-4-2017/  

 

If Yoga Were a Guy… (My Exercise Evolution cont’d)

 

It’s been over a month.  I don’t know why, but I let stressful times keep me away when there are crises in my family and stress at work.  Then my shoulders get all these knots.  I really shouldn’t stay away.  Yet, coming back is a sweet homecoming.  The music and the essential oils beckon me and make me feel welcome.  Despite my tense body, I never feel guilt.  So I imagine yoga is this sweet guy with a Barry White voice, telling me, “Hey babe, the door’s always open.  So glad you’re here.  You’ll be glad you came back.”

Let me honest, I have no idea what he’d look like, except that he’d be fit and his hair would be out of his eyes.  He’d be wearing a light colored short-sleeved t-shirt, and yoga pants.  Okay, maybe not yoga pants, but those long, lightweight pants that yogis wear.  If yoga were a guy, he would:

*Not notice the few pounds I’ve  gained

*Not state the obvious, that my muscles would not be so tense if I just made sure to show up even during the taxing times, and I would not have gotten sick if I used the yoga to help me destress and stay healthy

*Play a lot of Dave Matthews, you know, for atmosphere.  That, and whatever else he seems to play that relaxes me so.

*Keep those candles lit and the lights dim.  Let’s not make it obvious how off-balance I am. Instead, he’d:

*Lend me a hand for balance when I need it.  Bring me an extra block without saying anything or pointing me out

*Let me linger a little while after savanas.  That’s right.  He wouldn’t kick me out, because he’d understand that I don’t just come here to whip my butt into shape, I come here to escape the outside.

*Invite me to come back in a few days or say something that makes me want to be more of a regular, not because I feel guilty, but because it feels SO good being here.

Truth be told, most of my instructors are female.  However, yoga is neither male nor female.  So I can imagine it any way I want.  What’s most important is that I keep going back.  🙂

While we’re using our imaginations here, I think it would be fitting if he gave me a half hour massage after each class.  I don’t live far from the studio, so I could just cruise home and drift into bed afterward.  What completes the fantasy better than a full night’s peaceful sleep?