Friday, November 17, 2017

Friday 55 November 17 2017

Welcome again to the Friday 55, where we remember the host who never failed to find the right word to elevate the weekend to a shared pleasure, Galen Hayes, and continue the tradition of writing flash fiction, prose or poetry, in exactly 55 words. If you have been inspired to craft an artifact of such dimensions this week, please leave a link in the comments, and I will be by to enjoy the result, as soon as I can. The prompt will remain open as usual, from Friday til Sunday evening, but comment moderation remains off, as I will be not always online.





I'll start the parade with this...







 You





You 
came to take me back 
where words can't follow,
to a turtle of a land
head drawn in,
full of secret life
that hides its eyes;

you
brought me
gasping in a dream
to see the patchwork creature 
sewn from thee and me
so long dead
suddenly alive

who I still want to be.


 ~November 2017




 


Sunday morning note: Ending things a little early this week, but the 55 will return next Friday.





Images: Turtle, author unknown, via internet. Fair use.
Turtle, © Luc Tuymans,  all rights reserved. Fair use.

28 comments:

  1. don't turtles seem surprised sometimes, behind their laconic eyes? and yet... I want to be that way, too.

    Have a kick-ass weekend, Hedge. here's mine:

    green so green

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thanks sir--and for the pleasure of reading your words, also.

      Delete
  2. I would that the head would stay in, thoughts and patchwork relationships stay in the behind but some lands never leave us, some part of the person we were when we were sewn to another always stays with us. The week end is upon us so kick ass with it Joy.


    this should have been harder to write but time moves at its own pace















    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. And you, Mark--we have to enjoy it before we lose it.

      Delete
  3. The I-Thou Beloved-Self land is bed and long grave, a World War 1 battlefield grown over to pockmarked placidity -- the storms of love quieted to final breaths which yet has breadth and girth. Turtles are deities of place, and this dream creature keeps on keepin' on there, in a dream lost under a bed. Or something. Fine 55 for a fleeting Friday, Hedge.

    https://blueoran.wordpress.com/2017/11/17/sibilant/

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. There's a lot lost under that bed--and don't even touch the floorboards. Thanks B, and for the way you're writing right now, too, thanks--it's what I need to be reading.

      Delete
  4. Hello, all. I will be offline dealing with some medical stuff for the rest of the morning, but will get back with you as soon as I can this afternoon or evening.

    ReplyDelete
  5. Oh, I can relate to this. I've been with my husband a total of 49 years. That connection, the melding of he and I has changed over the years, but we still have a bit of that patchworked wonder. I too love the use of thee. It draws the mind back to another era, a beginning. Image and words work perfectly together.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I almost forgot. Here is my 55. https://blackinkhowl.blogspot.com/2017/11/among-visions.html

      Delete
    2. Thanks Susie. Much appreciate the generous reading, and your excellent 55. I have so little time and energy free for anything right now, but time spent with your poetry is always so worth it.

      Delete
  6. The first three lines pull a bittersweet sigh out of me, a sigh that is repeated (and magnified) by the last stanza. The entire piece reads like a smile on a face shining with tears, a sob that wants to be laughter, but... it has lived and learned too much to give in to such a thing (easily).

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thank you Magaly--yes, it was that kind of feeling exactly. Tears are needed sometimes, rain to let things grow.

      Delete
  7. Here is my bit for today, "Not for Girls":

    http://magalyguerrero.com/not-for-girls/

    ReplyDelete
  8. Life was much easier once. Maybe when we did not know. Now we know everything, and where has that gotten us? I know it is probably not what you meant, but hiding in a shell makes life easier on some levels, but it gets so lonely.

    The second stanza has quite a story to it. Seeing how you were once sewn together. The life you once felt. The wish to feel that again, maybe.

    Hope all goes well on your journey today Joy.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I completely agree, that second stanza tells a tale all on its own.

      Delete
    2. Thanks both of you--this was the kind of shell that holds a living memory which is a world in itself, but I also agree with the way you interpret it. Best of journeys to you also X--mine is a little rocky atm, but you know old hippies just keep on truckin.

      Delete
  9. Damn! Except for the final line, I think we've been O.D.ing on the same bad Nyquil. But that ending makes it so poignant. Ay yi yi.

    Please have the requisite kick-ass weekend (if possible) and feel free to visit mine of the spirit moves.

    http://fireblossom-wordgarden.blogspot.com/2017/11/my-giraffe.html

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. You slay me, girl. Thanks for the kind words, and for the awesomely sauced 55.

      Delete
  10. meh, here's my floater, unless something better hits me
    http://inordinarylanguage.blogspot.com/2017/11/stranger-that-i-think-of-it-now.html

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I always look forward to seeing what you've done angie--thanks for always making it worth it.

      Delete
    2. Some new thing did just hit me! Round 2---
      http://inordinarylanguage.blogspot.com/2017/11/encounter-i-cant-speak-of.html

      Delete
  11. I don't even know who I want to be any more. Such a striking poem, Joy.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Sometimes it's hard to tell. Thanks, Kerry.

      Delete
  12. Life has been full and wonderful and there has been little time or inclination to write...but here we go again. I heard a call here.

    Your piece evokes many things for me. Turtle land is full of ancestral echo and the patchwork inner quilt speaks to me of a multitude of lives lived in one incarnation.Potent imagery.

    Here's me back on the bike.
    https://paulscribbles.wordpress.com/2017/11/17/nowhere/

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Really glad you found inspiration here, Paul. I have been following you on FB, and I know you have indeed been having a lot of fun--so glad for that too, and thanks for playing.

      Delete
  13. As always, another delightful diversion, Hedgewitch. Thank you for playing hostess, and giving us this little corner to share our creations in. I love the image you chose and your words were a perfect fit.

    Here is mine!

    http://braincrayons.blogspot.com/2017/11/friday-55.html

    ReplyDelete
  14. Thanks everyone who played. I am turning comments off for this session, as I will not be able to respond to anything further. Please save your 55 for next Friday, when the 55 returns for its weekly performance.

    ReplyDelete