Unconscious Mutterings - Too Late

Unconscious Mutterings free association today was much fun! That is all her meme requires from you, just associate. I have found it fun to write a poem from the 20 words, her ten and my ten! If you don't already do her meme, you may want to try it. It is amazing what comes out of our minds. And if you are feeling adventurous, write a poem or story using the words, keeping them in order! But remember, if you do to link back to her meme since you are using it.

1. Savage :: beast
   
2. Warrior :: man
   
3. Daisy :: chain
   
4. Schedule :: me
   
5. Rock, paper, scissors :: paper
   
6. Medical :: student
   
7. Jade :: ring
   
8. Elevator :: path
   
9. Drain :: me
   
10. Goldfish :: bowl
    

Those words became:

Too Late


This savage beast
this warrior man
sits, legs crossed
lost in memories
of a battered daisy chain
thrown at him
in disgust on the day
his heart
awakened

too late

His schedule, back then
(or so he told her
in as much truth as he could muster)
would not allow such
trivial pursuits as
Rock, paper, scissors.

Paper, she said as he
turned to paint another
black line through her hope

Medical travesty
could not compare
with damage caused
by simple ignorance
of human needs

He was a student
by his description only
for he sat impatiently
at her side, his mind
on work or failure
or success or cannots

he was the man
who would stand
as she dropped
her father's jade ring
the only physical evidence
of his existence
and watch disinterested

as she leaped from the elevator
to the darkness below,
skinned her bony knees
rubbed each finger raw
while searching the sandpaper
path for that connection

Her words tumbled out,
"You drain me
like the toddler
drained the goldfish bowl
to reach the marbles,"
as she
remembered the fish
as it tried in vain
to swim the humid air.
"I will flounder in
wait no longer."

She tossed her daisy chain
at him as she grabbed
another's lifeline.

This savage beast
this warrior man
sits, legs crossed
lost in memories
of a battered daisy chain
thrown at him
in disgust on the day
his heart
awakened

too late.

MeeAugraphie
06/03/07

This is, thank goodness, not an autobiography. . . Please do not copy my words without permission. Thank you. I would prefer you link so the link to Unconscious Mutterings remains intact, after all -- it is her initial ten words that prompted me to write!

Unconscious Mutterings, plus

This week's words for the Unconscious Mutterings meme are below, along with my muttered words. I have chosen to take the 20 words in order to then write a poem or story. It is so much fun! Please, if you decide after you have done the free association meme to do as I have and create your own poem or story, make sure, as a courtesy, you remember to give a link back to her site as you would in the original meme. And even if you hate poetry, you may want to participate in her meme, which is the free association part. That is fun for everyone!

1. Dancer :: belly
   
2. Intellectual :: wizard
   
3. Direct :: confrontation
   
4. Tolerate :: maybe
   
5. Post :: secrets
   
6. Instinctive:: I am
   
7. Brink :: destruction
   
8. Regain :: composure
   
9. Repulsed :: yuck
   
10. Distressed :: not
    

I do occasional change tense or form of one or two words - poetic license, you know.


PMS


She, a dancer,
tossed her belly fat
with wild abandon
in contrast
to her intellectual mind
that created words a wizard
would be envious of.

In direct confrontation she
rarely rose to the challenge,
but cowered.

tolerate change?
Maybe, though
post secrets
told a different story
of following instinctive steps
more than to tolerate sidesteps
or forward marches.

I am, she screamed, on the brink
of destruction!

He reached out and licked her cheek,
a man's fumbled attempt at dealing
with a crisis he did not understand.
Rather than to gain composure
(as he had hoped)
she threw herself onto the chair
repulsed at the dampness on her cheek
and vomited the word, yuck.

He stood, distressed at his wrong doing,
but daring to stand his ground
(he was, after all, a man).

Not for one moment had she doubted
his motivation, only his execution of it.
The hormones subsided hours later
(yes, it took that long).

His dancer,
tossed her belly fat
with wild abandon
in contrast
to her intellectual mind
once again.

PMS, by natural definition was over,
she had survived the alternate definition
both would return again.
(After all, nature will always be
and
he was man, and loved confrontation)

MeeAugraphie
05/27/07

Copying our words is unappreciated. Sharing by link is. I am using NiñaLuna's Unsconscious Mutterings words in her order in my poem with permission. . . all she asks is a link back. . . more than fair, don't you think! That is all I ask for my own. . . Thank you.

RV Reflection One

RV
poetry
is life

reflected
by souls
who carry
their homes
in their hearts

not because
they are afraid
to leave homes behind

but because
they are brave enough
to create homes

wherever they are.

MeeAugraphie
05/22/07

Please, honor my words by not copying them without permission, though links are welcome. Thank you.

Note: If you stumbled on this blog via the word Poetry, please click here to go to my poetry blog, MeeAugraphie. Once you have read your fill, feel free to also follow links in the sidebar there to Haiku and Poetry Thursday, two wonderful blogs that give us a lot of weekly inspiration! For that matter, follow any of the links to those that commented on my poems -- they are most all either writers or poets -- and all interesting!