In memory of all who lost their lives to terrorism this year.

Blood

Blood littered the streets last night
Blood littered the streets
Of the city formerly of light.
Now in mourning.

Blood littered the streets last week
Blood littered the streets
Amid cries and tears and screams
That went unheard.

Blood littered the streets in January. 
Blood littered the streets
Of what used to be a town
No. Blood flowed down those streets. 
A river of death to water a village razed. 
The silence still leaves me amazed.

Blood littered the streets today
Blood littered the streets
As it litters the streets always.

Only.

Without the news.

I'm not doing a post today, but luckily you can find me here. Plus a haiku on pie.

Yeah lucky thing I arranged these visits ages ago, because today I barely have the energy to type. So if you're at all interested in getting your Misha fix today:

1) I'm hanging out with Darrion and Gawain from The Vanished Knight at the A to Z Challenge blog.
2) I did an interview with Laura on writing on whether I prefer cake or pie. Answer is cake. Probably forever. See below for the reason.
3) Michael wrote a cool intro to The Vanished Knight. 
4) I'm visiting Robin, talking about how I first started writing.

I hope to spot you at any or all of these. Probably later. Right now, I'm going back to sleep. Before that, though, you deserve an explanation, both about why I lack energy and why I now hate pie.

My haiku on pie.

There once was a pie, 
I devoured without thought of
it poisoning me. 

On that lovely thought, I leave you today. Anyone else wanted to die from food poisoning before?

And then it was gone...

Hi all! Remember to enter the Treasures of Carmelidrium competition. I draw the winner tomorrow.


So... Yesterday, I made a resolution to have a wonderful day today and get hundreds of words down. I even woke up an hour early. But as all resolutions go, mine went down the drain when the clock struck twelve last night. And kept going all through the day.

I even took it out on the post I was busy writing, but luckily realizes that I was just going to get on every poor reader's nerves. So... I decided to test them with poetry, instead. ;-)



It started with a spark,
You see
Minutes ticking by
As flames are licking my legs

It continued with a seed
One seed
That slowly unfurls
With every unthinking word.

Thoughts swirl with every drop
Drip Drip
The day hues
To an ever darkened black.

But then I come to a point
ever slow
where I'm tired
And I can't stand the clamor

Nothing I touch works
Not one
and I sigh
because time is ticking past.

It sparks a life
Growing
To become
That black persona that we avoid.

Then I give in.
I'm done.
I withdraw
With a book and Dvorak.

It took one second
One breath
To calm down
And then it was gone.

Improvising a Poem...

Hello all!

Finally, I am back an ready to get posting. I was planning to be back by yesterday already, but three of my best friends in the whole world threw me a surprise birthday braai (similar to a barbeque). So I thought that blogging in their presence to be a tad rude.

While I was contemplating that thought, I suddenly remembered that I had signed up for a blogfest to stretch my creative mind.

As per usual, I completely forgot about it until the day it is due. So... Here's how it works.

I pick a picture from the ones offered...



And then write a scene of no more than 500 (bahahahahahaha) words in narrative-verse poetry.

Fun right?

No idea. I've never done it before. But here goes.

My convoluted narrative verse poem...



Dreaming of a Victorian Christmas

On the day before Christmas,

The heat and light darken
Into a night so cloudless
That I imagine that Star beckon
To those first three gift givers.


And as I ponder
Those three magi,
Who at great peril followed that wonder
There is a thought of where I
Wish my star would take me.


If only I could be
In London
With my family
Dressed in shirts of pure cotton
And crinolines and bustles.


I suppose I would wear
A corset if I must
If I could only get to stare
At things before the rust
Of the ages have settled.


Of course, it would snow.
In lovely thick drapes
And we would know
To cover up in mantles and capes
Before wandering out to play.


How fun it would be!
Skating and riding on a sled
And frolicking before we
Set off to home, cold kisses,
Hot chocolate and bed.


But then, clear as day
I see,
I don’t need to go away
To be right where I want.
For what I really wish


Is for all those I love
To be in good health.
This is what I want above
All dreams going to unknown places
And of worthless wealth.




I hope you all had a wonderful Christmas.

Love,

Misha