100 on Writing

Image

It comes in waves, the good, bad and ugly. It sits in my soul, scratching to get to a page. It is my nemesis, my beloved, my best friend. Word upon word, building, crashing, digging deeper into the shadows where others live. Schizophrenia? Maybe. Lurking below the surface of a rational mind is a Dr. Suess inspired ride. Voices of pasts, of futures yet to live. Waiting. Waiting to dance across the stage, speak whatever words fall from frozen mouths to ink dipped quills that tap, tappity tap, tap, tap tap, in keyed up rhythms on letters fingers dance upon.

100 on Shock

Image

Shock for 100

100 Words to read by

There are words that save your life: stop, duck, run. Short words easily understood. Their action implied. We generally have no problem with these. It is the words ignored, whose sentiments are often times repeated in music listened to, movies watched and books read. They glare accusingly as if from universal billboard signs trying to get our attention. We cannot escape them as they pour from the mouths of friends, loved ones, teachers, and adversaries. Messages we choose to embrace or ignore. In them we may find a road map, inspiration or a reminder. These words can save your life.

100 on Vacuous

Her thoughts bled out in a vacuous descent. “He’s gone?” “Gone.” Erica waited for it to sink in. How long had her sister known him? Not that it mattered, she never thought before jumping and once again the proof was the empty expression on her face. “Nah.” Eve waved her hand before her as though the word held the power to wipe away the action. She had planned – past tensed – to make them dinner. A cozy retreat from the world, cuddled on the couch with a bottle of wine and some old romantic movie she knew by heart.

100 on Birthday Wishes

I’d wish for you a sea of blue, the color remembered in your dreams. I’d wish for you a shore of endless sand – your home land. I’d wish your sorrows away if they didn’t make you who you are. I’d wish you the joy of childhood hours, when making bubbles and splashing puddles was the highest and best use of time. I’d wish for you the memories of the stars if they spoke truths to your heart. I’d wish peace & love to follow all your days. I’d wish today and every day you know how wonderful you really are.  

100 on Eyebrow

I see them stare back at me, mine in shape and definition. An odd realization, the shock of this arbitrary line passed from the dead. Three generations it spans. Each eyebrow the same in arch and style, color too. What happened to the genetic lottery draw? Do living cells dividing have a say? Were these wriggling hairs destined to be? Reminders of those gone before, the ghosts of yesterday can still be found above our eyes. No other shape can break this mold. I am thankful they are not too thick, too thin or unibrow and thankful for Family resemblances.

100 on Capering

Capering on the shore where earth and sea collide. Crushed shells a pumice beneath my feet, toes dance the waters of incoming waves. Salt spray and sun adding to the fun. Moonlit walks, afternoon runs, chasing a dog or his forgotten tennis ball, laughing, breathing, all thoughts recede. Stopped momentarily as if guided by the tides. No matter what I see; ships on the horizon, pelicans in a dive, sea glass, shark’s teeth or a glimpse of dorsal fin, stars, the darkness of water set against the blackest of sky, people, creatures, all converge allowing this soul to caper on.

100 on One Hundred

My lips turn in a private smile with this 100. Like a favorite book with worn pages, its magical passages marked by dog ears and slips of paper so I can retrace another’s words. Gifts given without prejudice or recourse, of these there are so many. Each akin to a shell cast upon the shore, a gem to be found as toes wiggle in sands. The words as varied as the writers. In this space a kaleidoscope of color bursts without thoughts to patterns (and sometimes rhymes.) I thank them and begin to wonder, have I written 100 of these?

100 Words on Travelers with no shoes

Skin stretched against concrete where normally shoes stride protecting feet from all sorts of things like gum & street debris. These brave soles are travelers with no shoes for a good cause in Amsterdam as Participants of the One Day Without Shoes event. Sponsored by Toms shoes,  “One for One” global giving program, they have donated 2 million pairs of shoes to children in over 50 countries. One has to admire those up for the challenge of barefoot walking & the company that gives. Which is why this 100 words is dedicated to all those little feet, here’s the link!

100 on Threshold

“My tolerance is low.” You scream in my ear, drowning out whatever resounding thought I had waiting in the wings for retort. “Do you not get that?” The snarl, ever so slight punctuated with the side glare before your eyes return to the road. I am wounded now, fumbling with the door handle. I want out. You do not see. I bite my lip, sitting quietly, mentally ticking off the exits as they pass at speeds not fast enough for me. “You sulking now?” Again that sneer, “Are you? I can take care of that.” Now my threshold is low