Today’s prompt inspired a new bokeh filter and photography project. I used wire and tape to create “tracks” on a square-cut bokeh filter. Then I put lights over paintings in my office to put those tracks into and through spaces where no tracks had been before.
micro-story : When he began his experiments with black holes, the excitement of small discoveries, publishing and proving his theories, may have blinded him to the big picture. Now, staring into the powerful void of his creation, he knew the heart-wrenching horror of playing God.
She faces threats with effort and courage defends creative space from distraction two choices arrive of equal value
Wishing balance, she refuses to act until a unique solution guides her as waters rise, she leaves comfort behind
Instinct, an ally, leads toward challenges this new world is not as she imagined unpredictable and tempestuous
but pushing through rewards with abundance the journey back is restful and quiet resurrected the fool, wide-eyed, renewed
beginning fresh, energized with passion facing hope with a lucky, shiny coin
For today’s visual prompt, I chose this image of a woman on a cliff by a mausoleum
micro-story : When I had insomnia, I would often climb the hill just before sunrise. I enjoyed the creepy lone mausoleum on the outcropping, slowly emerging from the morning mist, otherworldly, full of mystery. These chilly daybreaks had become my ritual, so her first appearance was jarring, a trespass. At first, I believed my sleeplessness and the slanted light played tricks on me, but she lingered and I realized the trespass was mine.
yearning for power over fear of the unknown chant into the night
ancient recipes to command earth’s forces and fight the unseen
something from nothing symbols of knowledge reveal the boundary torn
For today’s visual prompt, I chose this image by Anton Semenov
micro-story : Mikey had tricked the guardian into opening the portal to the depths of nightmares. He was starting to regret trapping his little brother down there. If he couldn’t bring him back, Mom was going to kill him.
Forms Yesterday, we were challenged to create our own form. I got a start on it, but needed more time to play around with my ideas. I knew I wanted to incorporate internal rhyme and repetition with slight variation.
I wanted the form to reflect my daily interaction with my environment, so here it is, the Tappswave form:
The Tappswave is made of one or more eight line stanzas. The eight lines are couplets of sensation then reaction that repeat with variation. Each couplet has its own rules of rhyme and rhythm.
Lines one and two: Observation and attention like light shining on the water.
Line one: specifically describe a sensory experience my example An odd sharp chirp came from my plum tree Line two: memory or emotional response my example making me think of children shooting laser-guns
Lines three and four: Choppy, all one and two syllable words, like a cluster of small waves.
Line three: Expand on the sensory experience of line one, include internal perfect and familial rhyme to the last word of line one. I believed the tease or plea was a bird high on a branch unseen Line four: memory or emotional response to line three with internal perfect and familial rhyme to the last word of line two. the alarm bell rung, damage done when I was young
Lines five and six: Show what’s underneath the surface. Use words that rhyme with fish or types of fish for the internal rhymes.
Line five: Reveal a revelation about the sensory detail in line one. At last my search reveals the perp on his perch Line six: memory or emotional response to line five. and I’ll pass on the sass of this non-bird’s wrath
Lines seven and eight: Reflection and refraction/ ebb and flow
Line seven: Line two slightly changed to show reflection That laser-gun battle rages on Line eight: Line one with a slight change An odd sharp chirp from my plum tree
If I chose to write another stanza, I would start with a related but different specific sensory detail and explore it through the pattern of the eight lines.
My first Tappswave poem
Searching Out the New Sound
An odd sharp chirp came from my plum tree making me think of children shooting laser-guns I believed the tease or plea was a bird on a high branch unseen but the sound an alarm bell rung, damage done when I was young At last my search reveals the perp on his perch and I’ll pass on the sass of this non-bird’s wrath The nerve-shredding laser-gun battle rages on as an odd sharp chirp from my plum tree
For today’s visual prompt, I chose this image that was hanging on my friend’s wall.
micro-story : She had always been told she had statuesque beauty. Once she had a fully integrated neural implant, she spent all of her time in the virtual world. Feeling no attachment to her gangly limbs any longer, she decided to fully embrace that beauty.
Read for inspiration and craft
Horror flash fiction story “Shedding” by Deborah Sheldon
I bite into a parsley sprig and as its slightly bitter flavor reaches my tongue I remember a time full of possibility of juice bars and homemade fashions utopian ideals of altruism heady philosophies, discourse and exchange I nibble at tasty lacy leaves and remember easier beliefs
micro-story : As his canoe rounded the bend, he gasped and pulled his oar to slow his approach. The recent earthquake must have caused a mudslide, revealing that what he had always believed to be large white stones was actually a giant skull. He heard a rumble and his canoe rocked. He couldn’t help but personify the quaking of the earth.
Ever since I started playing with klecksography, I intended to draw on my inkblots and put poems on them, but I couldn’t get myself to do it. I even made photocopies of a lot of my inkblots, but still couldn’t get myself to draw on them. So to go along with today’s theme, I grabbed one of my inkblots, drew this happy creature on it and wrote my poem on it. I dared to try a poem form I’ve been wanting to try as well: a grid in which the poem can be read in rows, columns, and/or diagonally.
micro-story : She was tired of running up the stairs only to stare into an empty room. What did she think she would do if she saw the source of the banging, the footsteps? Her nerves were quickly fraying. What could she do?
For today’s poem, I had some fun. I looked up a list of horror podcasts and randomly clicked somewhere in a show and wrote down the first thing I heard. I used those lines to inspire my Ottava Rima.
Once I Escaped the Void
Taking a deep breath, I escaped the void our restlessness was to me a paradox an opportunity to be employed like the worn off number on the celestial jukebox repetition of continuation kept us annoyed like each of the sullied grains freed from the sandbox let them scatter into the universe their upsetting choices making it worse
I understand the importance of most death it can’t stop me either though I’m flummoxed to draw my next breath under the weight of that ravenous seer time to strike and leave bereft the shadow people in their fever hands reaching out of the dark leave a burn, a tender mark
Large heaps of flesh-colored wax were scattered around the room disobeying any logical syntax melting in flame, bloom a heady perfume the heat weaves it’s cracks to the inter-dimensional vacuum scattering me to the adverse universe to disperse and traverse the inverse
For today’s visual prompt, I chose “Lost” by Alex Timmermans
micro-story : The stranger arrived with the fall, leading a wild boar by a sheer scarf. They approached silently from the thick wood to the east, as if they did not possess enough weight to crunch a dry leaf. Yet everywhere they walked, trouble became too heavy to bear.
Summer ends and flits away leaving behind its bounty the ears of corn from Father’s garden have no need for butter or salt the light-yellow kernels sweet and juicy release the rays of the sun delighting the tongue