Whispers

choc_01

Even though they are not my favorite foods, I have decided to open up a little gift I found in the achieves at the Soul Food Café.

It’s a great series of creative prompts called ” The Chocolate Box

The first chocolate  I clicked is called ” The Artists’ Party ” 

There are a lot of ideas in this prompt that you can use to create a mood or a story or a painting or even a photograph.

I decided to go through my photo journal to see what kind of pictures I have taken of trees- did I hug the tree as suggested by the prompt.

I probably should have because the trees I had taken pictures of seemed to be telling a story, or maybe I caught them in the middle of an act or just thinking about whatever it is trees think about.

In other words, we shared a moment.

That was a gift, no matter how you look at it.

amm

 

Photo A.M. Moscoso
Horicon Marsh,
Wapun, Wisconsin
USA

Photo A.M. Moscoso
Amish Farm
Wisconsin, USA

Photo A.M. Moscoso
Fox Lake, Wisconsin
USA

 

Salina’s Garden

Salina was putting the finishing touches, with a little fortification from what was inside of her champagne glass with ” Groom ” stenciled  along  the side in frosty script, on her newly renovated garden when her neighbor trilled ” Toodles   Girlfriend!” at her from the street.

” I thought I’d pop on by and see how you’re doing.”

Cally was the neighbor that inspired the eight foot tall fences and large black dogs ins spike collars to patrol them and at the moment she appeared  at the edge of Salina’s property, Salina’s lovely Spring afternoon came to a crashing fiery mess all around her.

” I’m doing fine, I’m right in the middle of-”

” How did you do it, how could you cope with your world just, ” Cally threw her hands and tipped with her long bony fingers out to her sides ” exploding like that? You know. I get it. Men. Right? That’s what they do.  It’s a shame though.  I mean you were with him for 25 years. ”

Cally did not sound sorry at all. Cally sounded light and bubbly and slightly frantic.

Like a cheerleader on crack.

Salina took a breath and rolled her eyes so far back up into her head she would swear to you she could see her brains.  ” I’m getting a dog. ”

Cally raced on just like Salina thought she would.

Salina could have said ” I’m getting a hit man and he’s going to take you out because right now I cannot take your crazy on top of the insanity that took up residence in my life before you opened your mouth” and Cally would have gone on babbling like a toxic river running wild after the sketchy factory squatting on it’s banks hocked up all of it’s guts.

” Well. Here’s the plus side, now that he’s gone you can get in touch with your inner Crone.  Now you can be the woman the Goddesses intended you to be.”

” Yeah. The Goddesses.” Salina said biting her lip.

It was an odd enough response from Salina to get Cally’s attention for about five seconds. Not liking to be caught looking clueless or unawares for even one second let alone five she wondered if Salina was about to laugh or cry.

When one is in such a delicate state, one can never tell Cally knew.

Cally watched Salina hopefully, if not a little hungrily as she put her glass of champagne down on  her potting bench and reached for her shovel. “Well.  I’ve got to get to back to work, I have a few things left to do and then I’m finished so-”

Cally actually shut her mouth and her thin pale lips turned up in her version of a smile. ” You know, ” she said sounding surprised, ” Your flowers and herbs really do look nice. Especially around that- what is that? ”

” It’s a hitching post, it’s a horse’s head. My Great Grandfather brought it with him from England back in the early 1900’s,”

” Oh.” Cally said with the same kind of practiced smile that most mental health practitioners mastered  before the ink was dried on their degrees. Not that Cally had one of those, she was just familiar with Mental Health services in general.

” Did he? You say he brought it  all  the was from England. ” I see ” Cally said as she made a beeline towards the recently deemed ” maybe ” hitching post.

” Hmmm, are you sure it’s a horse? Say, what is that smell? I smell, what is that? Apples. You don’t have apple trees do you? Where is that smell coming from? ” she stopped mid stride.

” It’s chamomile. See? I put enough down to carpet this area. When you walk across it, it gives off that smell. Nice. Isn’t it?”

Cally  smiled her tight prissy smile. ” Yes. It’s very nice.”

” I must say” Cally said. ” You’ve done so much since your husband ran out on you Salina. That must have been hard. It must have been worse being he ran off with someone else.”

” You know what was really hard Cally? ” Salina dropped her shoulders, her hair fell into downturned face heavy with grief and pain. She even hiccupped a couple of times.

Cally drew herself up and smiled with sunshine literally streaming from her eyes.

She put her hand on Salina’s shoulder and then she patted it. ” No. What? What was the hardest part? I can imagine how terrible it was. I thought you were the perfect couple.”

Salina swung the shovel up and brought it down with enough force on the top of her head to bring Cally to her knees. ” The hardest part was digging that grave in front of  the hitching post deep enough for two bodies. That was the hardest part Cally.”

Salina strolled back to the potting bench  dropped the shovel against it.  Then reached for her glass and  with her face turned up to the now clear and not fiery  blue skies she threw back the last few drops of her champagne cocktail.

When she was done she walked back to where Cally was crumpled up- and then a thought hit her.

A very important one.

What was that drink called again, Salina asked herself   as prodded  a clearly recently deceased  Cally with her toe. Damn. What was this stupid drink called. She pulled her phone out of her back pocket and checked the app where she had found the recipe.

There it was.

That’s what it was called.

Death In The Afternoon.

Photo A.M. Moscoso

Inspired by The Daily Addictions Prompt: Cope

My Tombstone

Photo A.M. Moscoso

I took this picture shortly after two members of my family had passed away within a week of each other, my dog had died unexpectedly ( death, no matter how we try to prepare ourselves for it’s arrival is never really ‘expected’, is it? ) and with those  three deaths my world broke apart into a tiny little pieces.

I’ve never been able to find them all again, let alone repair the damage.

I think this picture captures that time in my life and memorializes it perfectly.

It’s a fitting gravestone for a life that no longer exists.

 

The Mark

 

Incredible Blogger Marathon Challenge #01

Mark of the Destiny

If she stopped her car right now, if she turned off the engine and got out at this exact moment and went into the diner would she find what she was looking for? Would she find adventure and sin, would there be roadmaps at the counter that were old and full of ghost towns she could haunt? If she got out now and walked into the diner would the moon wink, would the crows scream would she find her ending or beginning if she stopped her car and got out right now.

 

I think we know what our destiny is, that’s what we are afraid to face, I think that’s what holds us back sometimes.

Who’s A Good Boy?

Photo A.M. Moscoso

This is my dog  Hamish Macbeth.

This isn’t the greatest picture in the world but it’s the only picture I have of him and his little toy pig- who I will call Jodi.

Jodi, if you are a horror film fan know that it is the name of demonic character who took the form of a pig in film The Amityville  Horror.

Hamish would approve of the name ” Jodi ” for a few good reasons.

Hamish and Jodi had an on and off again relationship.

Sometimes Hamish liked him and most of the time he pretty much hated Jodi because I used Jodi as a training aid. Jodi squeaked when you squeezed him and I used that squeak to get Hamish’s attention. So when I was starting to really work with Hamish on his off-leash recall,  Hamish got to really hate Jodi.

Whatever fun thing Hamish was doing- running around sniffing things, playing in the bushes, chasing bugs eating snacks he stole out of my backpack, he had to stop and come forward and sit.

Hamish was good at it, but he started to really, really hate Jodi The Squeaky Pig.

One day I went to the cupboard   where I kept Hamish’s training kit- his lead, his reward treats and Jodi.

The treats that Hamish loved were all there. The lead was there and oddly enough one of Hamish’s favorite toys, which I never kept with his work kit was there.

But Jodi was gone.

Hamish was behind waiting for me to get his stuff out so we could go outside  and when I turned around with his toy in my hand he looked very happy- ” Good girl! ” that look said to me.

I thought maybe I had forgotten to put Jodi away and Hamish got him.

 


The lead suspect in the disappearance of Jodi The Squeaky Pig- Hamish Macbeth
age 3 months.

Last Summer- just about a month after Hamish Macbeth turned three years old  we moved and when we got to our new place I was in my new office doing some work when I heard a little squeak.

I turned around and Hamish opened his mouth and dropped this on the floor next to my chair:

From Beyond The Grave?
Jodi Returns.

You know, I like the movies about cursed toys- but they are always spooky looking dolls or something.

I don’t think there’s one about little squeaky toys that got into some weird battle of the wills with a dog.

I’m not sure who won the battle in this case, but when I took Jodi out to take his picture this morning I gave him a little squeak and Hamish trotted to my side, sat and when he thought I wasn’t looking he tried to eat Jodi.

I picked Jodi up just in time and put him on the top shelf of my closet.

I think he’ll be there when I get home today.

Maybe.

Photo A.M. Moscoso

 

Inspired By The Soul Food Café Prompt: Hatred Smoldering In The Hills

A Map Of My Heart

A.M. Moscoso

Photo A.M. Moscoso

Photo A.M. Moscoso

Photo A.M. Moscoso

Photo A.M. Moscoso

Photo A.M. Moscoso

Photo A.M. Mocoso

I chose these pictures to place on  the map of my heart because each one represents something distinct in my personality- my creativity, my anger, what makes me feel hopeful what makes me feel afraid, what gives me strength, what makes me feel weak.

All of these places inspire me as a writer and as The Train Wreck Poet

I call myself The Train Wreck Poet  because it best describes what I do- I put all of these words together and people- myself included can’t help but to look at the mess at the side of the tracks.

It’s funny, until I sat down and put this piece together I never really thought of the poetry part of my writing routine. It sort of worked it’s way into existence and now I do it.

I should probably take it more seriously but I don’t at the moment.

Now isn’t that something- I sat down and put some pictures together and learned something new about myself.

And I think I’ve found a new way to see the world and myself.

 

Inspired by  Maps of the Heart– An Alluvial Mining Adventure

 

Picture This

Photo A.M. Moscoso

 

There are so many ways to capture and preserve visual memories  that it can be overwhelming and in the end some of us ( like me for example ) find that it’s easier to just stay the course instead of trying to tread water in a Sea of options.

I’ve tried Facebook- though most of what I put on it is influenced by my ” Friends ” in the Facebook Community and not so much who I am as a creative.

I have linked  my WordPress sites to Facebook so  when I publish it shows up on my personal page, so that gets out there. And because I’m not one to literally put all of her eggs in one basket I store photos at Facebook, here in my media files at WordPress and on my computer.

Photo A.M. Moscoso

Three  things that I’ve found to be useful very useful  and  they did take some getting used to were Instagram, Pinterest ( both tied to my websites ) and my Photoshop App on my phone.

My Instagram account is sort of all over the place, but I think I am pretty close to getting it on track to work as a ‘visual’ diary.

All of what I put on Pinterest  visually  does reflect who I am as a writer, which is interesting. It didn’t really start out that way. But if you go through my boards you sort of start to get me as a writer.

What I’ve learned from discovering and using these new tools is that learning something new and working at it on a daily basis is a great confidence builder.

Who can’t use a little of that?

For now- go out there and have some fun and make the world a little more interesting.

I’ll be watching for it!

Photo A.M. Moscoso

While Waiting For Godot Prompt: Preserving Memories

 

 

 

Crow’s Peregrination

Creativity is a monster- eventually you have to turn it loose:

Inspired by the Soul Food Café Project: Manhole Covers

” It’s like this, ” the crow said to  me  from above ground, where it is always light ” if you come out of there I can show you the mysteries and the curiosities of the world. ”

” All of them? ” I asked from below the street where it was always dark.

” Well. Most of them.”

” But if you’ve discovered them they’re not mysteries anymore. Right? So what does that leave? A trip to see the world biggest ball of string?”

” You’re a smart aleck kid. Climb on up and let’s hit the road.”

I put my hands up above my head  and had every intention of pushing the heavy metal manhole cover to the side, but what was the rush? I’d  been down here for so long. What was a few minutes more?

‘”You know, I always thought I’d follow the bats out of here one day.”

” And why was that?”

” Because they are polite. They say things like, ‘would you care to join us for an evening topside?’ ”

I heard a series of dull little taps coming from above.  Each tap followed a word:

” And look where that politeness has gotten  you.”

 

I pushed up and moved the cover to the side.

” This had better be worth the trip. ” I said to Crow as I lifted myself up and out of the darkness, where I could not see much of anything,  straight into the light where I could see nothing at all.

” What good is the light if you can’ see anything? This is horrible. I’m going back.”

” You’ll get used to it. ” Crow said the words, but there was no comfort or reassurances gilding them.

” We’ll see about that. ” I was about to lift myself out and just so I could prove to Crow how useless this effort of mine was going to be  when Crow leaned over me and tapped on my forehead

” You’re a stubborn little devil, aren’t you? Now let’s get moving. ”

I fluffed my hair over my forehead, hiding my tiny little pearly white horns and told him, ” You have no idea.”

Photo A.M. Moscoso

Grave Thoughts in July

Photo A.M. Moscoso

Is anyone down there?

Is anybody home?

Are you dreaming?

Are you asleep?

Photo A.M. Moscoso

I will call  again

softly

with caution

and fear

Photo A.M. Moscoso

Is anybody down there

are you

dreaming

are you

asleep?

Inspired By The Soul Food Café Prompt: Manhole Covers

Created

This is a challenge a friend put to a few friends from a writing group that formed at the Soul Food Café.

The Challenge is called ” Manhole Covers “.

For this part of the challenge I could have just posted the pictures of the covers but I wanted to flesh it out a little.

This is my start, I’d like to add to it so let’s see where it goes this is a multi level challenge so I’m pretty excited about doing it.

I’ve called this answer to part of the challenge 

” Created “

amm

 

Photo A.M. Moscoso

Do you wonder what’s down there?

Below your feet

in the dark?

 

Photo A.M. Moscoso

Does it know the sound of your voice?

Did it hear what you said that day to yourself

when you thought no one was there

except for you?

 

Photo A.M. Moscoso

Do you think it will break free one day?

Will it see the sign will it follow the path

to you?

Will it be sunny or dark?

I wonder about.

Photo A.M. Moscoso

What will it see when it looks up?

Where will it go?

What will It want?

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Will it be hungry.

I wonder.

How hungry will it be.

Photo A.M. Moscoso

Inspired By The Soul Food Café Prompt: Manhole Covers