Zombie Candy by Maria L. Berg 2021Kitty got a taste for brains by Maria L. Berg 2021
OctPoWriMo 2023: Facing Our Fears
Fear of Trespass: Write your poem in the language of a police report in which the burglar or attacker was supernatural. I highly recommend reading Pasco police officers report DUI arrest in poem form (not supernatural) for inspiration.
Today’s image prompt is very mysterious. Is the door liquid? Was she liquid? Why is she naked? Why is the door in the floor of an empty warehouse? There’s got to be a good story there.
Halloween Photography Challenge
Please link to your creations in the comments. I can’t wait to see what you come up with.
I realized these Monstrum videos are also historical so they could be Peril of the Real in a way.
If you missed this morning’s prompts post, I’m responding to Phases of the Moon.
For today’s images I used the disc on a tiny brad filter I created last year over clear plastic to represent different phases of the moon with the blue light curtain in the mirrorworld.
OctPoWriMo 2023:Facing Our Fears
Today’s prompt at dVerse Poets Pub is to write an ekphrastic to a piece by one of three “haunted” artists. I responded to the Edvard Munch, “Despair” in my concrete poem about transformation and fear of change. I call it “A Sliver of Insight: A Nightmare Remembered”
Writober 2023
As I mentioned in the prompt post, I messed up and responded to today’s image last week. If you want to read the beginning of that story it’s here. Today, I am taking inspiration from this Gregory Crewdson photograph. Now for the beginning of my story.
The Spotlight’s On
Graham liked to be in the spotlight. Always the center of attention. He didn’t have an act, a talent, or a skill to speak of. Not yet. But he knew he was destined for greatness. In middle school he finally convinced everyone to call him Gravy Train, mostly by tripping and spilling gravy all over himself, but he liked it, and he made sure it stuck.
Now, a few years out of high school and still not sure where his star would land, Gravy Train was moving up in the local underworld doing jobs without question and not wanting answers. As long as he could keep himself off the street and warm in his signature brown leather from head to tow, he didn’t really care where he had to go or what he had to do. Which is how he found himself alone, deep in some thick woods expecting to meet someone named Tank who had something for his current boss.
Gravy Train wasn’t all that surprised by the location. He figured Tank was cooking meth, or processing something else and had a shack out here somewhere. Probably where that weird light was coming from giving the trees such long shadows after he turned off his car lights and decided to wait in the dark pretending he was famous and he was psyching himself up off stage, then stepping out right before the spotlight hit.
A whirring noise made him look up. He didn’t see anything but evergreen branches. Then it happened, just as he imagined, a giant spotlight lit him up. The light was only on him. Right there in the middle of nowhere forest.
Moonman by Maria L. Berg 2023Moon by Maria L. Berg 2023Spooky Moon by Maria L. Berg 2022
It’s hard to believe we are already over halfway through the month and these challenges. Even if you’re just joining now, there’s still plenty of time to get some fun, spooky writing done and face your fears through your poems. Feel free to link up to any of the prompts so far as well as the rest as we go. Are you getting excited for Halloween?
OctPoWriMo 2023: Facing Our Fears
Fear of Change: For today’s poem think about transformation: physical, situational, or otherwise.
Now that we’ve made it through half of the month, I thought it could be interesting to do another mind map around “Fear” and see if things have changed, if we’re making different connections, if new things come up. You may also want to do a second mind map around “Change” to explore ideas for today’s poem.
A concrete poem or shape poetry might be a fun way to express this poem. Here’s the concrete poem I wrote in April 2022.
I’m afraid I confused myself (that’s what I get for trying to schedule ahead) and wrote to this image last week with my story The Washing Machine is Out of Order instead of the Gregory Crewdson photograph, so I guess I’ll be writing to that image today.
Halloween Photography Challenge
The first image at the top was made by taping a lazer-cut wooden puzzle piece of an astronaut onto a plastic filter over my camera lens and taking a picture of a white light. The other two are pictures of the moon.
Please link to your creations in the comments. I can’t wait to see what you come up with.
Are any of you planning for NaNoWriMo? I’m having trouble deciding what I want to do this year. I love writing a brand new novel draft, and really want to try a genre I haven’t tried yet (maybe magical realism, fantasy, or horror) but I also need to finish my novels, so I may want to use NaNoWriMo to write a new draft of the thriller I started last year, and revised the outline during camp. Working on the thriller and working toward finishing it will probably be more rewarding in the long run, but writing something completely new sure sounds like fun.
Capturing the Elusive Nosferatu by Maria L. Berg 2023
If you missed this morning’s prompts post, I’m responding to Sexy Blood Suckers.
For today’s images I tried to cut a Nosferatu filter inspired by the 1922 movie in which the first vampiric fangs were shown on camera. Though my filter isn’t exactly recognizable I like the resulting photographs. in the mirrorworld.
That which has no reflection by Maria L. Berg
OctPoWriMo 2023:Facing Our Fears
Your bite brings blood to the surface like my bite brings juice to the flesh of a ripe fruit
And the gushing sweetness heightens pleasure like a racing pulse pressures one to blush
Your bite leaves a bruise like a dropped apple left to age; its skin turns brown like dried blood
It’s also Quadrille Monday at dVerse Poets Pub and the prompt word is “fold.” So today, I offer a second poem:
The Tightest Fold
When I fold into your warmth I never want to leave, or move or breathe out of sync with your breath or hear my heartbeat over yours When I fold into your safety its where I want to stay and be still while in-folding
Writober 2023
Wanting to Be Seen
They all stilled and listened, shifting uncomfortably in the confined space. They had been waiting for hours since darkness fell, and finally they heard footsteps on the stairs. A growl began from the crisper.
“Be quiet,” said Nerqui, taking charge. She’ll hear you, and may not open the door. He heard her slipper shuffling across the kitchen linoleum. “Get ready. Okay, now!”
The refrigerator door opened and they all showed their long claws and sharp fangs. But the expected scream in terror, the rush of tasty fear never came. Her eyes were barely open and she reached right through them as if they weren’t even there, grabbed the piece of cheesecake on the plate covered in plastic wrap on the top shelf and went to the counter. She took off the plastic wrap and shoved the front corner of the piece in her mouth. She kept shoving, barely chewing, making happy noises, muttering something and then shoving more in.
“Nerqui, what is going on? We don’t understand. Where’s our meal of terror. The late night snack fridge attack is usually a sure thing.”
“I know. I’m not sure, but I think I’ve heard of this. It’s rare but I think she’s a somnambulist with SRED,” said Nerqui sounding intrigued, and not scared like the rest of them.
“And in real language.”
“Oh, yeah, I think she’s asleep,” said Nerqui.
“You have got to be kidding. She got up, came down stairs, opened the fridge and is eating in her sleep? We didn’t even scare her enough to wake her up? Nerqui, we’re hungry. We’ve been waiting hours. Where can we go get a meal in a hurry.”
The woman finished her cheesecake and licked her fingers over and over for a while, then put the plate in the sink.
“Be quiet, she’s coming back. Get ready,” said Nerqui. “Now!”
They all bared their claws and hissed and growled, baring their sharp fangs. They all could have sworn she looked right at them.
If you missed this morning’s prompts post, I’m responding to Carving Scary Faces.
I woke up before dawn, so for today’s images I combined last year’s pumpkin filter and my wire Jack-o-lantern face filter to turn the neighbors across the lake’s security lights into Jack-o-lanterns.
Carving the Face by Maria L. Berg
OctPoWriMo 2023:Facing Our Fears
Becoming her Jack-o-lantern
She kidnapped me stole me from my patch of land and family: she washed me, sliced me open, gutted me, then began to carve At first I thought she was forcing me to look like her, but then she carved the teeth, sharp, pointed teeth
Yet the candle is warm and my shaved skin glows
I’m living the nightmare that spread through the patch all my short life as my brothers were snatched up, others would whisper that the carvers had come to tear them apart for their sick fun
Yet the candle is warm and my shaved skin glows
And now I’m her soldier I fight back the gloom I won’t last long and face certain doom
Yet the candle is warm and my shaved skin glows
Writober 2023
When You Can’t Believe Your Eyes
This isn’t happening. This can’t be happening.
I didn’t just see some big-eyed albino giraffe-dog smiling at me as it ran in front of my car. I didn’t see that because it’s impossible . It can’t exist.
Big breath. Let’s start over. I’m just stopped at the light. Yeah, it’s a little foggy out, but not play-tricks-on-your-mind foggy. I’m not on anything. I like to be in control of my faculties. That’s how I know this isn’t happening.
But oh, crap! There’s another one. I’ve got to get out of here. Those things are big. Taller than my car and about as wide. Those big black eyes and wide smile are almost cute, but they are so wrong. That long thick neck on those elephantine legs running along like that. They look like they should have arms on that neck, and that the neck should be a body, but they don’t, and it’s not.
When I saw the first one I flipped on the radio to try to find some news but it was only static. Every station. I instantly thought of that weird fenced off government lab out in the desert only a few miles from here. There have always been whispers that they were doing creepy experiments out there. You know, mutant genetic experiments that sort of thing, but I just figured those people were conspiracy crack-pots that always want the government to be doing something shady, giving the government way more power and credit than a bunch of paper-pushing bureaucrats should have. But if I believe my eyes in this moment, then I was totally wrong and they were right and there are monsters in that lab. But why? Why would anyone make those things? What could be the point of that?
I’m still sitting at the light. I can’t seem to make my limbs move to make the car move. Where would I go? Is that the same one I just saw in front of me again, or has the first one come back? It’s just standing there. Is it looking at me? Oh no, this can’t be happening. Those were the little ones, and the parents are right behind them.
I finally convince my limbs to move, shifting into reverse and slamming the gas pedal to the floor. Luckily I appear to be the only person on the road tonight and am able to back over the bridge. Maybe the creatures know they are too heavy or they are afraid of water, who knows, but they stop coming. I make it home and hide in the basement all night, just in case those giant ones start stepping on houses.
When I creep upstairs in the morning, there is nothing about it on the local news. It’s as if it never happened. So maybe I’m right, it couldn’t happen, so it didn’t.
The Neighbors’ Safety Jack-o-lanterns by Maria L. Berg 2023
Happy Jack by Maria L. Berg 2022That could have the strain by Maria L. Berg 2014Critter by Maria L. Berg 2019
OctPoWriMo 2023:Facing Our Fears
Fear of Norms: Write a poem from the POV of a monster or your jack-o-lantern. What specifically does the monster fear?
You may want to write it as a Bop. Here’s a bop I wrote for OctPoWriMo 2019:
Crossing the threshold
Inside Flannel pajamas covered in blankets heating pad on my belly alone in thoughtful silence imagining a better world Need a push to cross the threshold
Outside People, places, things aspirations and collaborations, beauty, love fresh and new expectations, disappointments, together in thoughtful silence peppered with communication that can be misunderstood Need a push to cross the threshold
Inside Out Comfort or adventure alone together creating more existence forming bonds entering or exiting Need a push to cross the threshold
A Watery Grave by Maria L. Berg 2023The Shroud by Maria L. Berg 2023From the Depths by Maria L. Berg 2023
If you missed this morning’s prompts post, I’m responding to Not in the Grave.
For today’s images I tried something new and played with fabric under water to create a ghostly under-water grave.
Reaching from he Grave by Maria L. Berg
OctPoWriMo 2023: Facing Our Fears
NIghtmare Nocturnes
Darkness arrives earlier each day and against my will I tire earlier each day because then the battle begins earlier each day hope against horrors earlier each day and I rush toward death earlier each day
Nightmares in progress meet my heavy lids lost child me in the forest behind my heavy lids the wolves—fangs bared snarling—race on my heavy lids they catch her and bite her behind those heavy lids she doesn’t fear death, she wants to return earlier each day
Nightmares progress and hold me down; I can’t move hold my screams in my throat while I can’t move Cut with knives, scissors, and scalpels while I can’t move their eyes burn blood-red while I can’t move aichmophobia or latrophobia I move from bed earlier each day
Each nightmare ends just before death surprised to meet the dark yet the horror lingers waiting to meet me in the dark and each day I have an earlier meeting with the dark To face a fear dream-made all too real, I meet the dark a growing nyctophobia begins earlier each day
Ghostly Figure by Maria L. Berg 2023
Writober 2023
Logline: A haunted piano fantasizes about its next player, its next love.
The Touch of Your Fingers
One day you will have to move. Maybe your landlord’s adult children want your apartment, or your landlord sells and your apartment is being torn down. Either way you will decide it’s time to buy your own place. You will move into a deserted old house, feeling brave about your fixer-upper. And after clearing away the cobwebs and dust, and hauling away the broken and rusted, dry-rotted and mildewed, and the completely unusable things, and after you’ve washed and cleaned and polished and fixed and painted, you will realize the piano is in pretty good shape. Surprisingly good shape. You will not have played in many years but had once imagined playing professionally, especially on those Friday nights in college when you reserved piano time in the concert hall.
You will sit down on the bench that creaks under your slight weight which will worry you slightly imagining the legs going out from under you, but then you will settle in and touch the keys that will be miraculously in tune, and you will play whatever your fingers play, improvising something that is so beautiful to your ears you can’t believe those are your fingers caressing the keyboard. That is when we will meet for the first time.
Watery Epitaph by Maria L. Berg
RIP XVIII
I had intended to listen to Chopin’s Nocturnes on my record player while writing my poem today, but on two Chopin albums and all my piano classics records I did not find a single nocturne, so here are all of Chopin’s nocturnes on YouTube:
Halloween Graveyard by Maria L. Berg 2022The Graveyard Under the Full Moon by Maria L. Berg 2021
OctPoWriMo 2023: Facing Our Fears
Dream or Nightmare: Have you ever died in a dream, or woken up just before? Carefully describe such an image from a dream. Use that image to explore a specific fear.
Writing a Nocturne seems like a good fit for this prompt. You may want to read Nocturne by Louise Glück.
If you missed this morning’s prompts post, I’m responding to Stirring the Ashes.
For today’s images I tried something new and set two paper filters on fire to make random shapes. One I burned with a match, and the other with a Bic bendable lighter.
OctPoWriMo 2023: Facing Our Fears
Dimensional Shifts
This is the one where all is well I wake excited to create It’s not the one that’s living hell or where the lava is my fate
and not the one where night ghouls tap at windows when I want to nap they can give an awful fright This is the right dimension, right?
Ashen by Maria L. Berg 2023
Writober 2023
Logline: A man feeling sorry for himself annoys his own shadow.
Here’s an excerpt from my story: Don’t Invite Your Shadow to Your Pity Party
Perry knew he wasn’t supposed to drink with his meds, but he had had such a shitty day, his girlfriend moved out while he was getting fired and someone had hid his car in the parking lot while he was getting fired and he got a ticket for the tail light being busted because someone hit him in the parking lot, so he picked up a bottle of whiskey and was sitting in his arm chair in the dark feeling sorry for himself, watching his shadow grow longer and longer.
It started as a whisper, as his shadow stretched up the far wall. Then the voice became louder and he felt a sharp pain along his sternum.
Experience Writing 