#writephoto : gargoyle by Joelle Le Gendre

Thursday #writephoto prompt:  Inside-out

“Who’d a thought I’d be goin’ to a black an’ white ball?  All them senators dancin’ with their wives…or husbands, an’ the president, too!” I hooted at my son.

“Mother…please!” he whispered sharply.

I hain’t seen that shade of red on your face since you was a boy.”

Six feet tall and handsome as his daddy, he pulled me to the side and said, “I’ve had the tickets to this event for 2 months.  Celeste left me a month ago.  Mother, she sent her ticket to you and said it was from me as a joke.”

“Why’s everyone wearin’ black an’ white?”

“Mother, you’re not stupid or I wouldn’t be a professor,” he grumbled.

From: whiskyriff.com

“If you was smart, you would’ve stayed outta politics,” I said.  “Ain’t no way a English lit major’s gonna stand toe to toe with these guys.”

“Oh no,” he whispered.  “That’s Lena from…”

“Corrupt News Network.  I know,”  I said, smiling at her.  “She looks like a black swan glidin’ this way.”

“Let me do the talking, mother.”

Lena stopped in front of my son, snickered at me, and said, “Who’s the gargoyle?”

“You,” I smiled.

“Dr. Holcomb?” she asked my son. “Is this woman related to you?”

“This party hain’t nothin’ but a bunch a losers,” I said, turning to walk away.

“Wait!” Lena ordered, as if she owned the place.

I felt a woman’s hand on my arm. That just wasn’t gonna fly.

But she did.

Source: #writephoto : gargoyle

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Agoraphobia

Magnanimous Word

images (11)he thought
he should go out

he told himself
he must go out

the thought came
the thought went out

he stayed inside
he did not go out

©2016 Alka

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agoraphobia

I wrote this poem in 2016, now posting it for Sue Vincent’s photo prompt for #writephoto Inside-out

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Outside and Inside by Balroop Singh #writephoto

#writephoto poetry

The wondrous window…
Her world, her only real realm
That connected her with clouds
Outside and inside.

The edges of the windowsill
Smoother than paths she trod
Reassured her that she was safe
In the arms of her benefactor

All fears receded within her
She licked her wounds and soothed herself
As she looked out…calmness prevailed
Outside and inside.

Starry nights churned the storm
Shook her out of her slumber
Wobbling towards the window
She looked out at the streaks of light

Continue reading here: Outside and Inside #writephoto

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Inside-out by D. Wallace Peach #writephoto

“You will wed Nallea,” Lord Rydan commanded. “It is already agreed. This is not a lad’s game.”

“She’s seven!”

“In eight years, she will be fifteen. I will not argue this with you.”

“I don’t know her. I have no idea who she will be!”

“That is of no consequence, Raze. You will be Lord of Vestrelle. You bear responsibilities, duties to the land, a future in the kingdom. Do you think these puny provinces will remain under separate rule? Do you believe our rivals will idle contentedly within their walls?”

Raze curled his fingers in silence, any reply wasted breath. “What about love?”

Rydan’s eyes tightened into pale slits, and he faced his son. “Love will follow.”

“Did you love my mother? Did she love you?” The questions had barbs, and Raze would use them to pull his father’s heart inside out. “Was your marriage forced upon you against your will?”

The Lord waved away his argument, but his jaw softened. “No, it was not.”

“Did you wed her for love?” Raze would force an answer. Even if it made no difference, his father would acknowledge the unfairness of his demand.

Continue reading here: Inside-out #writephoto

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North to south

There was barely a pause for breath between the journey back from the north and a new journey south. Time seems to have run away this month, I find myself writing about events three weeks late and with so much more yet to tell! We were going south to spend the weekend with friends.We would stay with Alienora, catch up with Morgana and get to spend time with dear friends from the US. As all this was going to take place in Glastonbury, and at Beltane too, there was a lot to look forward to.

Even the drive south from here is exciting; we pass so many places that have played a part in our journey to today. The White Horse of Uffington, on the horizon, marks the entry to a magical landscape, where mysteries abound and unfold. The road takes you past hillforts and barrows…and onwards to Marlborough. We stopped for coffee in the church before passing yet another white horse carved into the hillside beyond Merlin’s Mound.

And the next stop is always Avebury. It is impossible to simply drive past. Whether it is a simple pause to pay our respects to Silbury Hill, a walk up to West Kennet or a visit to the stones of the circle and Avenue, we have to stop.

This time it was the circle. It does not matter how many times you visit, the ancient stones that have danced here for millennia always reveal something new…and although they always seem to sing the same song, they are constantly changing tune with the light and the seasons.

It is always astonishing too, to walk amongst the stones and marvel at the sheer scale of the construction. The stones themselves are so big it is impossible to not to wonder how, and yet, there is never more than a fraction of the site visible and the complex of linked sites of which they form a part is mind-boggling in its scale.

On every hill, it seems, there are barrows, naked or hidden in groves of trees, many of them yet to be excavated. Finds have placed humans in this landscape for at least nine thousand years and the traces of our ancestral past still remain, intriguing and raising more questions than we will ever answer.

Stonehenge lies just seventeen miles south of Avebury and, in between, further sites link what could be a truly vast complex of social and spiritual sites. There seem to be few limits to the vision of our ancestors… yet the prevailing image is still that of crude and unsophisticated builders in stone. Walk amongst the remnants of their creation and you cannot help but feel we are the ones missing the point through a blinkered vision.

 

 

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Inside-Out… #writephoto – Stuart France

*

“Well, he was here,” said Sputnik,” I saw him from outside, standing by the corner of the window.”

Maggot studied the door lock, the corridor and the stairs beyond, and then he walked slowly across the room and stood by the window-sill.

“You ever heard of spontaneous human combustion, Sputters?” he said quietly.

“You reckon that is what it was?” replied Sputnik, incredulously.

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River #midnighthaiku

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