From my window, I watched a
man in pressed pinstripes approach another,
without a home, wearing filth-stiffened fatigues.
At the intersection of Desperation and
Doing Fine, they chatted, laughed, shook
hands. Charmed by the soulful exchange
of these faceless fellows, I wondered
how often tenderness goes unnoticed. I
closed the curtain. The day was
resplendent.

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For G-Man and Melissa (prompt: CHARMED)

image

Circles break and squares loosen up.
Stars fade and stripes get spotty.
Yin is black; yang is white,
yet much in between is grey.

Dear Abby, Savage Love, I’m not.
I have neither perspicacity nor panache
pouring forth in an effortless way.

Any hint of wisdom that’s stuck
comes from the fine art of
regretting.

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I’ve been reading poetry by a very interesting Jesuit priest whom I knew for much of my adult life. I perceived him as an intimidatingly professorial scholar with a microscopic sense of humor. He was always around. I took him for granted. He passed away before I had any interest in reading his writings. Now, I find myself repeatedly reaching for his books, re-reading pages and verses, smiling at his wit, and being moved to tears by his honesty. I regret missing the boat on discussing his words, his thoughts, his life. I regret not being able to tell him how much I love his work. The piece I wrote above is what I imagine his response would’ve been if I’d asked him to define wisdom.
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In 55 words, this is for Melissa’s Six Word Friday topic: wisdom.

Sun-glossed palm fronds no parasol-wearing drink
can keep from bearing brittle browning

Glory days — daze of lingering glow –
blurring name and face, stealing grace

Jade and grey, far and away
springing back, sneak attack upon today

Operation in action; smooth, stealth infiltration
glides like appetite on buttered confection

Deadlocked chase, nothing crowds space like
yesterday.

The past is a guidepost, not a hitching post. ~L. Thomas Holdcroft

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Want to read more 55-word posts? Go here.
Want to read more 6-word posts about YESTERDAY? Go here.
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Image by Claudio deste

Stacks of diaries, ink on pulp
Sheets tearing, spine crumbling, facts fading

Pages of photographs, colors and greys
Two dimensional faces, places and things

Boxes of meaning, diamonds in dust
Preserved in storage, sealed with cobwebs

Freeze frame.  Hold still.  Stay awhile.
Embrace the moment tighter, longer, closer.

Seeking permanence…
Finding temporary…
Moving on…

eventually.

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For #sixwordfridays (prompt: Last) and for G-Man’s #fridayflash55.

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image by Bob AuBuchon

Tinted windows and dust caked blinds
can’t obscure the tug of uncertainty.
Neither loud noise nor ear plugs
can drown out the mind’s chatter.

In meditation, worry sometimes creeps in.

Not induced trance nor wanton revelry,
rather,
in tenuous times of invisible light,
when choices are unappealing or non-existent,
chance comforts while counting one’s blessings.

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This is a Friday Flash 55 for G-Man and a Six Word Friday post for Melissa (prompt: count one’s blessings).

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Image by The Big Quack

Legend has it that gushing waves
build when the collective baggage of
a tribe called mortalis becomes too
burdensome to bear. A whirlpool encircles
the bottom of the blue, sending
currents on an upsurge that flows
in all directions. It transmits an
urgent message. Those touched by it
awaken with ripples of healing and
hope.

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What happens when hope ceases to be? If, like me, you’d rather not imagine, please click through Melissa’s blog today. She is keeping hope alive for Japan in a philanthropic way by contributing to Save the Children based on the number of comments collected on her #sixwordfriday post.

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This is a #flashfiction with 55 words, also submitted for Six Word Fridays.

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waves by jemasmith

With eyes closed and death grip,
she clutched the steel lap bar
white-knuckling curves, corkscrews, loops and dips

hearing noise,
holding breath,
stifling screams.

until

a bolt came undone,

a warning.

With eyes wide and bold resolve,
she opened her heart to what might be
embracing curves, corkscrews, loops and dips

finding voice,
defying death,
living dreams.

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for #sixwordfridays (Might) and #fridayflash55
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image by cra1glloyd

Seemingly,
he came out on top.

He played it safe and heeded
sound advice.  Buy low.  Sell high…

Others thought he had it all.

Him?
Not so.
He felt lost.

The beaten path choked his mojo
and he longed to revive it.

So he tossed the map. A
novelty act.  And, somehow, he felt

Found.

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On the literal and proverbial road, do you prefer to have a map?  Or do you thrive on forging your own path?

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Linking up with the one and only G-MAN for #fridayflash55 and with the ruler of Making Things Up Melissa for #sixwordfridays, the prompt is NOVEL.

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Image by Johan Larsson

Her name, the marquee, never touch.
Her voice, the microphone, never kiss.
Adoring eyes, her gaze, never meet.
Reserved parking? Chauffeur? Not for her.

But.

She’s got chops. She’s got flair.
Like number one, she’s present everywhere.
Without her around, there’s no show.
Her kind makes the stars glow.

Second banana? Nah. Rock star unplugged.

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This is for all those who work secondary roles or behind the scenes to make a system work: the RNs to the MDs, the adjuncts to the PhDs, the associates to the uber-JDs, the assistants to the bosses, etc. May we give them a second look and appreciate them for what they do.
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Linking with the ever-clever G-MAN for #fridayflash55 and with the dreamer-and-doer Melissa of Making Things Up for #sixwordfridays, the prompt is SECOND.

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Image by Kyknoord

H
A
P
P
I
N
E
S
S

Its weight is often portrayed mythical
In conversation, proclaimed oh so lyrical
Pursuit of it, free-range yet fickle
Looking in the wrong places, futile
Living with it, for many, hypothetical
Others sigh, it’d take a miracle.
I’m thinking, maybe, just a thought
Perhaps we’re a bit too fanatical…

Maybe we oughta be less quizzical theoretical critical?

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Linking up with my pals G-Man of the fabled Friday Flash 55 and Melissa’s Six Word Fridays.  This week’s prompt is HAPPINESS.

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Image by @boetter