Hidden Meaning

The image shows a covered paved street. One person is sitting in a chair in the middle of the street talking to another sitting at the side walk. There is a truck parked in the street behind them. The street is lighted up well with lights hanging from the ceiling.

The light of experience illuminates

the wealth of knowledge expounds

but the real truth lies

behind the words

in the depths of the speaker’s soul.


Written in response to SadjeWhat Do You See #48 photo prompt.
Image credit: Mohammad Hoseini Rad – Unsplash

Flying off the Canvas

The image shows an incomplete watercolor on open pages of a notebook. There are tubes of colors next to it and some painting paraphernalia.

Purple robes from the snot of snails, rays from the tails of mango-fed cows.
Colour-wash fades, dribbles down the page,
Feeble brush strokes
weep over wet
paper.

In a misery of contempt she kicks the traces of her fractious art.
Screw it up and start again!

Ground from stones, hewn from rocks
poisonous pigments from the artist’s jewel box
cobalt and lead, one blue, one red
the venomous tools of her craft.

Carving curves with furious angst
passions explode and erode
while careless cadmium spatterings
join dread smears on the studio floor.

Scissoring through shards of purple-pink silk
the blood on the carpet of despair
raising her brush she rages on
rending the canvas in two.


Written in response to SadjeWhat Do You See #47 photo prompt.
Image credit: Elena Mozhvilo – Unsplash

Sands of Time

For visually challenged reader, the image shows a person walking in a desert, dwarfed by huge sand dunes. A long line of their footsteps can be seen behind them

sand
at the back of the throat
chords strung taut
bloated tongue, swells
says nothing.

time
runs through the hourly glass
empty now
confession calls
tell nothing.

life
sands of time spilling out
dunes shifting
time, after all
is nothing.


Written in response to SadjeWhat Do You See #46 photo prompt.
Image credit: Dan Grinwis – Unsplash

Way up here…


Written in response to Sadjes What Do You See #45 photo prompt.
Image credit: Ian Dooley – Unsplash

You dance for us too

We watch you dance in the sunlight
admiring your graceful fluidity
your total abandonment
to your art.

We watch you dance from our windows
confined inside, with limbs
no longer able

to obey.

That freedom, which once was ours
lives on, as we watch
while you dance
for us too.


Written in response to SadjeWhat Do You See #44 photo prompt.
Image credit: Joel Valve – Unsplash

The Quantum Anomaly

R2D2 and C3P0 on a barren planet's surface

previously…

I hesitate, wondering why the two familiar-looking droids have just walked past the ship without a glance. Then I remember; Captain James T Kirk and his landing party couldn’t to see our ship when they encountered it on a similar bleak planet.

I’ll have to go outside.

The rear hatch obligingly opens as I approach and I hover in the doorway as the ramp descends. It connects with the sandy surface of the unknown planet with a thud. Artoo’s head spins around to face me, and he utters a surprised ‘bloop’.

‘What is it, Artoo?’ asks his golden-coloured companion, barely glancing in his direction.

The little droid’s head spins around again, making a series of excited beeps causing his companion to turn around.

‘Oh!’ Cee-Threepio’s eyes light up. ‘Master Luke must have sent you to rescue us,’ he says.

And here I was hoping that they would rescue me!

Cee-Threepio’s arms jerk from side to side as trots eagerly towards me. ‘I take it there is a space-craft of some kind behind you?’

Before I have the chance to reply, Cee-Threepio has stepped onto the ramp. He glances over his shoulder. ‘Come along Artoo, don’t dawdle. You don’t want to get left behind again, do you?’

Artoo whoops with mild irritation and clambers onto the ramp.

‘It looks very dark in there, Artoo; you’d better activate your head torch,’ fusses Cee-Threepio. He turns to me. ‘I suppose it’s just a standard transporter?’

I need to take control of the situation.

Once inside, the two droids look at me expectantly. Cee-Threepio is right. The flight deck has become rather gloomy. I glance around at the walls, but they seem solid enough.

‘Is something wrong, Mistress? asks Cee-Threepio. He puts his hand to his mouth. ‘Sorry, we haven’t been introduced! Where are my manners?’

‘I already know who you are.’ I say, managing a grin. ‘I’m Jemma Kirk.’

‘Miss Jemma…’

Our surroundings flicker like a badly-adjusted monitor and the ship lurches disconcertingly. I slide into my seat, gripping the arms. I need help!

Artoo utters a surprised beep and shunts over to the ship’s console where he plugs his scomp link into one of the desktop ports. A moment later he utters a low whistle.

‘He’s says he’s picking up some very strange readings from your ship,’ Cee-Threepio interprets.

Artoo tweets and beeps. Cee-Threepio cocks his head and nods. ‘He says there’s a quantum anomaly, whatever that is.’

With a high-pitched screech Artoo pulls his scomp link from the port. A series of anxious bloops and whistles follow.

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about, Artoo,’ says Cee-Threepio crossly. ‘Somebody’s cat? It sounds like you’ve got your wires crossed.

Then I hear a reassuring sound behind me. I spin around in my seat as a familiar blue box appears.

‘Well I never, what can this be?’ wonders Cee-Threepio.

Artoo makes a chuckling sound followed by what sounds very like a wolf-whistle.

What exactly is a quantum anomaly? And what’s all this about a cat?
How will the Doctor fare in this galaxy far, far away?
Tune in next week for episode 8…


Written in response to a prompt from Susan T. Braithwaite
Genre Scribes Friday Fiction Writing Challenge #51

The challenge this week was torch.
Photo credits: thefactsite.com and character-online.com

The Message Board

The image shows a board covered with hand written messages about love.

I come each day, looking for you
one among so many people
displaced, separated
lost.

Parents from children, husbands from wives
brothers, sisters, friends and lovers,
divided in the melee
of disaster.

Each day I come looking for you
one among so, so many
hanging on to hope
searching for a sign.

Day after day, still there is nothing
but I know in my heart
you’re still out there.
And so I wait.


Written in response to SadjeWhat Do You See #43 photo prompt.
Image credit: Kyle Glenn- Unsplash

Your inner light still shines

The image shows face of a woman. It is painted with luminous glitter paint and the features are highlighted with bright yellow lines, ending in a question mark on the forehead.

Imprisoned inside a fragile façade

yet your inner light still glimmers

hope leaks out from every pore

and your smile still shines from deep within.

 

Confined within the corporeal

plagued by withering pain

yet the force that the fans your flame

is fuelled by a sharper source.

 

Your spark will not be extinguished

your spirit will not be crushed

not yet, while there’s hope

for another, better day.


Written in response to Sadjes What Do You See #42 photo prompt.
Image credit: Lucas Pezeta on Pexels

Losing Control

Han Solo holding a weapon

previously…

I open my mouth to speak but, suddenly tongue-tied, I close it again. I look to Harris for help.

‘So you didn’t beam us on to your ship, Mr Solo?’ Harris says calmly.

‘Why would I want to do that?’ He glares back. ‘And less of the Mr Solo, kid. You can call me Han.’ He lowers his gun.

I find my voice. ‘We’re sorry for the intrusion, Mr So.., er Han, ‘but your ship has just saved us from the Death Star. We’re very grateful.’

Han raises a quizzical eyebrow.

A low-pitched roar comes from beyond the rear hatch. ‘It’s all right, Chewy,’ Han shouts over his shoulder. It’s just a bunch of kids.’

A huge furry head appears.

‘Chewbacca! Way to go!’ Harris says delightedly. He nudges me with his elbow. ‘We’re actually on the Millennium Falcon!’

‘Can I see round your ship, Han?’ Harris almost begs. ‘The Millennium Falcon’s my favourite ever starship and that flight in hyper-drive was awesome!’

Han gives Harris one of his lopsided grins, while Chewbacca tosses his head and roars gently in what I assume is agreement.

‘Okay kid, I’ll show you around this bucket of bolts, but then we’re going to have to find somewhere to drop you and your ship off. I’ve cargo to pick up in the Kessel sector and I don’t need any extra passengers.’

Harris and Stevens bound towards the exit hatch. I follow more slowly, wondering whether we’ll actually be able to leave the ship. We’ve never managed to do so before. But I’m curious. Not so much about the famous Millennium Falcon, although I am rather keen on its present owner, but it occurs to me that we’ve never actually seen our ship from the outside.

But what might happen if we do leave the ship? I stop in my tracks at the entrance to the hatch.

‘What’s that, kid?’ Han turns to me.

I hadn’t realised I’d spoken out loud. ‘Our ship is powered by our minds and guided by our imaginations.’ I say by way of explanation.

Harris and Stevens have already joined Chewbacca outside the ship. ‘Never mind all that now, Jem,’ says Harris impatiently.

‘Sounds kinda weird,’ says Han.

‘We’ll tell you about it later.’ Harris is almost jumping up and down with excitement. ‘C’mon, Han, let’s go.’

As I step onto the ramp my stomach lurches and my knees start to buckle. I sit down abruptly.

‘Hey, are you all right, kid?’ Han crouches next to me.

‘I just feel a bit light-headed,’ I reply, trying to put on a brave face. ‘Our ship suddenly feels… less substantial…’

‘Low sugar. It’s the after effect of being in hyper-drive.’ Han looks up. ‘Chuck her one of those Banquet Bars, Chewy.’

Chewbacca rummages in a nearby cardboard box and throws me a crumpled package. The wrapper reminds me of a Snickers. I know the Earth-based confectionery company has been a multi-global for centuries; maybe they’ve changed the name in this galaxy.

Chewbacca nods encouragingly as I tear open the wrapper and take a bite, while Han pulls a communicator from his jacket and holds it out to me. ‘Go back inside and rest. Call me on this if… if anything should happen.’ He looks at the ship, frowning slightly.

As Harris and Stevens disappear through the hatch into the corridor beyond, the walls of our ship start to shimmer around me.

I have a bad feeling about this.

Md Mahdi on Unsplash

Will Jemma be all right alone on the ship? Will it still be there when Harris and Stevens return? Tune in next week for episode 6…

And if you we’re wondering what on earth (or off-earth) is going on,
you can catch up with the entire first series of Space Cadets here


Written in response to a prompt from Susan T. Braithwaite
Genre Scribes Friday Fiction Writing Challenge #50

The challenge this week was banquet.
Photo credit: Md Mahdi on Unsplash

 

I fear for you

The image shows a baby monkey looking down from branches of a tree.

Little innocent one, so new to the world,
sniffing the air and feeling the breeze.
Is there a place for you?

Little innocent one, so new to the world,
feeling the smoke sting your eyes.
I fear for you.

What will you do when they cut down the trees
and just a patch of your forest is left?

Where will you run when the hunters come
to take you far from your home?

Oh Humanity, think what you’re doing!
Don’t you know her fate
is our future too?


Written in response to SadjeWhat Do You See #41 photo prompt.
Image credit: Lewis Roberts on Unsplash