Aye, aye, Captain – #SoCS August 27/16

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“You’re in control of your destiny.”

“You’re the captain of your ship.”

“You’re the only one who can change your life.”

Yada yada yada. Unfortunately, it is (mostly) true. Of course, there are always external forces that can (and often do) limit your ability to make the changes that you’re holding close to your heart (bills, obligations, ability and so on). But they don’t stop you trying, even if the extent of that ‘trying’ merely involves a secret dream, attempting to imagine what your life would be like if you achieved that ‘thing’ that you want.

Oh, but wouldn’t it be wonderful if someone or something else did all the hard work for you?

Or… would it? Isn’t half the joy of achieving your desire looking back at the sheer hard graft you have put in and knowing ‘I did all of that’?

I’m pondering on a number of avenues, in fact, more than pondering, at the moment. I’m dipping a tiny toe in some water and seeing how it feels. It is hard, doing that whilst continuing with all the other parts of life that need to be maintained in the meantime. However, it’s so, so satisfying to see how far I’ve come, in such a short period of time…


 

It’s time for the lovely Linda’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday, where today she invites us to use the prompt you’re, your or yore (all, one or two of them).

My babbling above is a little mysterious, I know, and probably a bit jumbled. That’s how I feel at the minute. Not in a bad way, but more in a ‘ooh, I’m trying to change things step by tiny step way’.

I hope you enjoyed it – please do head on over to Linda’s blog to read more!

 

In the hours – dVerse Open Link

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Those nights when I can’t sleep

and curse – in my belief – that I

am the only one staring into the abyss

at 3am.

Those days when I can’t stop

the thoughts in my head from eating me alive

and casting a shadow over

a glorious sunshine day

at 2pm.

Those mornings when I can’t bear

to drag myself out of bed

and drag my carcass through

one more day

at 6am.

Those days

I have to stop myself

from giving up

from giving in

from turning in

from tuning out.

 

I have so much.

Food on the table.

Money in the bank.

A heart that beats

so strong, so long, so fiercely.

 

I have so much

at 3am

at 2pm

at 6am.

I have so much.


 

Tonight is Open Link Night here on dVerse, hosted by our stalwart Swedish host, Bjorn. He has shared the story of Sean Michael with us today, who only gets to post on OLN as he is currently in prison, has no access to the internet and can only connect with us through the wonderful assistance of his grandmother, who posts on his behalf, is his lifeline to the outside world. Here is his blog Mad Poet Enchanted – so very, very worth a look. Sean has somehow managed to fund the publishing of a book of his poetry, despite all the obstacle sin his way – he is such an inspiration.

So… my poem is somewhat of a response to his story. We’re having a bit of a heatwave here in the UK and it’s making commuting somewhat uncomfortable – it’s nothing really, and reading Sean’s story has reminded me of all that I have to be grateful for. I truly am, but sometimes, I forget…

Please do head on over to dVerse and dive in – and please do read about Sean.

By the way, I am so behind in reading others’ work – I will catch up over the weekend, that’s a promise!

 

Look up! Microfiction Challenge #9 – Rainbow

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Sky painted with an ethereal hand, if only he would care to notice. But, as always, he was too full of himself, of visualising his increasing bank balance, of mentally spending it on new furniture, an extension, a pool, a double garage.

Sky sighed. She had been trying for years, chasing him around the globe, waiting for just the right moment after the sun-infused shower to wave her paintbrush in a great arc and illuminate the heavens with her multi-faceted glory. But she always failed. He was obtuse and oblivious..

Anger roiled from the depths of her being, a white heat rose from the soles of her delicately shod feet and coursed through her veins, clothing the forbidding clouds in a brief but intense flash. She opened her mouth and a great growl spewed forth, years of pent-up frustration shaking the trees, the rivers, the houses below with its violence.

He stopped in his tracks as fat tears of sorrow lashed his face, flattened his hair to his scalp, stuck his shirt to his skin. Lightning and thunder filled his void and then, then he looked up as a great bolt split the sky and tore his house asunder. All became still, as if the world was holding its breath.

“Janice? Janice? it’s me, Mike. Oh my God, the storm! It’s all gone, our beautiful home, our car, everything destroyed!” Mike winced in anticipation, waiting for the wrath of his wife to assault his ears.

“But are you OK, Mike? You’re not hurt?”

“I’m fine, but our house -”

“It’s just bricks and mortar. You are my home, that’s all that matters.” Her voice was gentle, soft, warm. He had failed to noticed these little things for such a long time.

It was then that he saw the rainbow. Finally. Sky rested her paintbrush and allowed a few final tears to fall to the earth. Her work was done.


 

Thanks to the lovely Michael, who I have known via the internets ( :)) for some time now, I have found this Microfiction Challenge from Jane Dougherty, who this week invites to write on rainbows. Please do head on over to Jane’s blog to enjoy the writerly goodness – and why not take part too?