Friday, April 27, 2018

Friday 55 April 27 2018

Another week, another month flies by us here at the 55 forum. Being April, many of you playing here have been honing your skills by writing a poem a day all month, and I remember clearly that at about this point one's brain feels like a sore muscle. You are doubly welcome, for taking yourselves and your writing seriously, and writing to the point of exhaustion in a climate where there is hardly time to think about poetry or art, let alone create it. But rejoice, even April eventually passes, and hopefully this form will work its magic for tired minds today.

As always the rules remain the same, 55 words of prose or poetry, no more, no less, as decreed by the much missed originator, Galen Hayes. Link your response in the comments below between Friday and Sunday morning and I will be by to read the result.



Just a mood piece this week...



Holding Hands At The Last Chance Truckstop




Our breath
marbling air like
smoke in a jar
when the candle's snuffed,

joined hands
brittle as sin's old skin
shed from the body of love,
as fossil petals

laid away in a book unread
because spring was kisses away
 from where
we tried to drive over fire,

years ago
before
the road burned down.





~April 2018















Images: Gas, 1940, ©Edward Hopper  All Rights Reserved.  Fair Use
Untitled  ©Zdzislaw Beksinski   All Rights Reserved.  Fair Use  

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21 comments:

  1. grapelingApril 27, 2018 at 1:59 AM

    so vivid, each verse - mood, indeed. tinder meet fire, spring meet love.

    I do wonder if people ever really consider how temporary roads are, and that they are for the most part built of compressed fire.

    hope you have a kick-ass weekend, Hedge

    parley

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    Replies
    1. hedgewitchApril 28, 2018 at 6:59 AM

      Thanks, M--and its true what you say about roads...the markers we lay down to channel our restless and often pointless movements, that also carry so much freight. Appreciate you reading, and writing...and understanding.

      Delete
  2. Other MaryApril 27, 2018 at 5:03 AM

    Thank you, thank you, thank you for keeping the 55 going. I love the image of smoke in a jar, and your closing total kick-assery. Hope your weekend is too. Here's my 55: https://othermary.wordpress.com/2018/04/27/2590/

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  3. ayalaApril 27, 2018 at 5:28 AM

    Beautiful poem, my friend.

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  4. BrendanApril 27, 2018 at 5:34 AM

    That truckstop was passed long ago but something in us lingers & clings to the moment it came into view, last gas for the next 100 miles,, thick, as the smoke in the first stanza (fantastic image), with the prescience of something already gone. The beginnings braid into the end, how could they not, as the end is probably what made the yearning burn so, so long ago. And the road ahead isn't dusty, nor cinders, nor even road, though the ghost keeps us keepin' on. The poem hovers in all of that, just after the kiss which buttons it all. Amen and be well, friend. Kickassingly so.

    My 55: https://blueoran.wordpress.com/2018/04/27/the-groves-are-full-of-black-bodies/

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    1. hedgewitchApril 28, 2018 at 6:55 AM

      Thanks, B--what is smoke but the dying breath of fire, eh...I wish I had more to say these days but I take comfort in how well you and some others are writing after periods of silence and doldrums and will hope for better someday. Many thanks for adding your grim and thought-provoking 55 to the mix.

      Delete
  5. FireblossomApril 27, 2018 at 7:38 AM

    Yay, it's 55 time--thx for the reminder for the day-of-the-week challenged--and i see some of the regulars are already here! Your final line is pure Hedgewitch...just an oddly pleasing smack to the side of the head that distills a whole grainery into a few words. All the imagery has, at once, both a dream-like and solidly physical feel. I just love readin' ya, BFF. (Big GTFO-type hug ensues)

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    1. hedgewitchApril 27, 2018 at 7:43 AM

      Back at ya, girlfriend. (I actually typo-ed "girlFIEND" which somehow cracked me up.)

      Delete
  6. FireblossomApril 27, 2018 at 8:17 AM

    LOL @ "girlfiend." I like it! Meanwhile I hope you can "bear" to read mine:

    http://fireblossom-wordgarden.blogspot.com/2018/04/our-bear.html

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    1. hedgewitchApril 28, 2018 at 6:53 AM

      I loved the way the poem and pic fit together like spoons--it's always fun to see what you will do with the 55, because it could be almost anything, and it's always spot-on.

      Delete
  7. Magaly GuerreroApril 27, 2018 at 4:25 PM

    When you say "mood", you really mean it. The entire poem gets inside the heart and makes the brain remember things lived or that one day might be. By the time we get to the penultimate stanza, whether or not we have lived any of this no longer matters because the feelings are there. The ending, the ending chokes you and sends you back to read again, so that you'd never forget.

    Mood... mood, indeed.

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    Replies
    1. hedgewitchApril 28, 2018 at 6:51 AM

      Thanks, Magaly. I appreciate as always your insight and your take on things--and that you got just what I intended from this. I hope you're sugarless-quest is going well.

      Delete
  8. Susie ClevengerApril 27, 2018 at 5:11 PM

    Oh my, moody and deep. Of course I love the whole thing..yet this really popped out to me "joined hands brittle as sin's old skin" Great as always!

    I went dark humor. I was cackling writing this one. I needed to cackle. :)

    https://blackinkhowl.blogspot.com/2018/04/plan-b.html

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    1. hedgewitchApril 28, 2018 at 6:50 AM

      This is just delightful, Susie. I'm so glad you played.

      Delete
  9. AnonymousApril 27, 2018 at 7:00 PM

    oh how absolutely impeccably worded - each and every phrase, line break -

    ahhhhh, the mistress of word wizardry strikes fire, even if the iron is cold, from the ashes rising to breathe a burn again ...

    wow, Hedge - I just love, LOVE to sit and linger with your words, soak them up like a dry rag gobbles for the spill .... damn mighty fine "mood piece" ....

    thank you for hosting - and I love the title of your piece - and what an amazing image by Hopper, I've always held his works in great affection, I think it's the capturing of all those essences, the layers of light, so often in the darkness, of space, silence and all that is left unsaid in this sacred vision, if one dares to see.

    And the second image is also fascinating, begs for silent contemplation in a somewhat mystical "blood fusion/fashion" ....

    And without further ado -
    here is my taste of 55 this week -

    http://papertiger88.blogspot.ca/2018/04/gently-child-rock-cradle-gently-child.html

    hope you have an amazing kick ass weekend Hedge - and to one and all

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    Replies
    1. hedgewitchApril 28, 2018 at 6:49 AM

      Thanks so much, willow. I think Hopper has that American Gothic touch that shows the dark and light(which I agree he is a master of) mingled in our stories, and keeps it so simple that its almost pure symbol--even his human forms remind me of neolithic sculptures, rounded and smoothed out into archetypes...I don't feel like this is one of my better efforts, but some weeks it's just enough to write *something,* and I'm glad you found pleasure in it. And a kickass weekend back at you.

      Delete
    2. AnonymousApril 28, 2018 at 8:38 AM

      Yes, you've nailed the essence of Hopper - it's that touch - it's almost surreal - like watching film noir - the silences speak so loudly. It's stunning and sends shivers through the soul.

      Delete
  10. Kerry O'ConnorApril 28, 2018 at 1:02 PM

    Brittle as sins old skin..

    I love how that sounds, Joy.
    I seem to be short of 55 words today, alas!

    ReplyDelete
  11. brudbergApril 28, 2018 at 2:36 PM

    Oh I love this... a wonderful mood, that image by Hopper really tied well into the mood.. maybe the road goes on forever, we just have ceased to notice that we're still moving.

    My little contribution for a kick-ass weekend.

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  12. hedgewitchApril 29, 2018 at 9:21 AM

    Thanks to all who came by to read or participate. The 55 is closed, but will return next week.

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