No olive branch

Unable to find original attribution

I accuse him. In my attempt to prove he has lied, yet again, it becomes evident that my accusation is unfounded.

My accusation is based on facts. The fact that he is a compulsive liar. The fact that I cannot believe a word that comes out of his mouth- without researching it first. The fact that our friendship has been irreparably maimed by a continuous stream of untruths. The fact that I am angry. The fact that I feel disrespected, betrayed.

I apologize for my erroneous accusation, however, I cannot find it in my heart, to extend the olive branch.

Nothing so simple
as the lily’s promise of
resurrection, can
bring forgiveness, when the heart
has been fermented by lies.

This Haibun/Tanka has been written for Frank Tassone’s Haikai Challenge: Easter Lily and Misk’s Twiglet: ‘nothing so simple‘.


I Soar

Photo by Brannon Naito on Unsplash

I have long overcome the pangs of loneliness. I luxuriate in time spent alone. It is my sanctuary. My fortress. I rush towards it, as once I ran into the arms of a lover. It holds me close, drinks me in, makes me whole- in a way I only ever dreamed- a lover could.

Alone, in my room
All around me, the air sleeps.
In silence, I soar.

A Haibun with Haiku written for Misky’s Twiglet # 122: the air sleeps.


Crimson’s Creative Challenge #22

She liked to pretend she had taken the road less traveled. She told herself she was in every way, unique. She envisioned herself as having risen above the masses. But in truth, her heart was hard, her ardors weak.

She found herself alone in her mid thirties. By her mid forties she’d become romantically involved, with death. In her fifties, she found herself rightfully imprisoned. A time out, in which she used, to catch her breath.

Oh, she still walks to the beat, of her own drummer. She still sees things, just a little bit askew. But today she’s a little older, and a whole lot wiser. And truth be told, she’s not a whole lot different- than you…

Written for Crispina’s Crimson’s Creative Challenge Photo Prompt, and Eugenia’s Brew n Spew Cafe’s Word Prompt; Pretend.

Heat Lightning

What do you See? April 2, 2019

A too familiar grating sound, all but erases the luster of the lightning.

I awaken, blurredly scanning the room for Her Eminence.

My shock of orange feline fur is amusing herself- using an armchair as a scratching post.

I pull myself up in bed and throw a pillow at her. She leaps through the air, a nano-second before the pillow reaches her, and bounds out of the room in one fluid movement.

I mutter curses, and lay back down, reluctant to concede victory. No matter, my dream of the glorious ‘heat lightning’ from my childhood, is just as gone.

Written for: Helene’s What Do You See? and Charli’s Carrot Ranch 99 word Flash Fiction Challenge word: Eminence. I know, a little too late…

For anyone who has never seen ‘heat lightning’

Quoting Dickens

Photo by Isabella Mariana from Pexels

Dickens wrote,
“he’d make a lovely corpse.”
and I misconstrued it..
I imbued it
with all the pent up passions
of a woman lost, alone
far from a home
she never had.
Unfulfilled, unloved. Unable
to make a life for herself,
to ever be
anything more
than she was
when she defined herself
by her love for you..

Dickens wrote,
“he’d make a lovely corpse.”
and what I twisted it round to,
was that I
should remember you
as someone you never were…
That I should chop you up
in little pieces,
savoring the pretty ones
carrying them around
in my pocket
fingering them
when I was feeling old,
or lonely,
or used up.
That I should ingest them
in small portions
until dream sodden memories,
became my Eucharist.
The body and the blood
of the life, I sucked
out of you…

Dickens wrote, “he’d make a lovely corpse.”
But it was I that chose to make true…..

“he’d make a lovely corpse,” is a line from Dickens novel,
The Life and Adventures of Martin Chuzzlewit
-here taken quite out of context.

Posted for The Sunday Muse Photo Prompt #49