Author: Ergo, the Ogre

  • Love Hell | The Bluest Eye

     

    Going in

    I knew

    it was

    Hopeless.

    yet I hope(d) and my heart

    went in recklessly —

    a kamikaze jackass,

    a hero of unrequited

    love hell-

    bent on

    on breaking itself

    time after time

    and time aqain.

     

    I knew that we

    (there is no we except

    in my imagination)

    would never be us —

    that the bluest eyes

    ever

    would never look at me

    (only through, around, over and past)

    and see me 

    the me I wanted them to see;

    no way

    would I ever be anything but

    a muted commercial during

    the pee-break of

    your Hallmark Channel movie; that

    the love song on

    the tip of your tongue

    perpetually

    forming on your lips

    would never be

    me;

    that the one

    and only on your

    mind,

    in your heartbeat

    is another pair of blue eyes,

    that I

    am the occasional

    afterthought, usually

    the un-thought.

     

    After years of hanging

    on to nothing,

    Still,

    the story of my life

    begins and ends

    with

    the bluest eyes

    ever.

     

     

    SusanWritesPrecise
    listovative.com

     

  • Ticket to Paradise

    Ticket to Paradise

    Today’s writing prompt over at Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie is Train Ticket.


    Geoffrey was late for everything, so it was no surprise that he missed the last train to Paradise, PA. The next one was scheduled for 9:00 pm that night.

    “But that’s three hourrrrrs from now…” Geoffrey whined to the ticket person—Sybil, according to her name tag.

    “I knowwww…,” she whined back to him. “Do you want the ticket, or not?” She popped her chewing gum.

    “I guess,” he sighed. “Thank you, Sybil.”

    “That’ll be $229.95.”

    “Why the extra hundred?”

    “It’s the Silver Bullet,” Sybil explained.

    “So?”

    “So… that thing goes like the wind! You’ll be in Paradise in half the time it takes a regular train.” She put her hand over his and patted it. “You won’t believe it!”

    Geoffrey jerked his hand away. Although he liked it, he wasn’t used to a woman’s touch. “No shit?”

    “I shit you not, Geoffrey.” Sybil gave him a playful wink.

    Geoffrey blushed and paid her for the ticket. “Uh, I guess I’ll browse around in the gift shop while I wait.”

    “It’s a free country.” Sybil was grinning at him but wondered if she meant it, or if she was just teasing him. He figured it was probably the latter, since he was unlucky in general, but especially with women.

    “Yeah, I know,” he muttered. Droplets of sweat began to form on his neck, so he loosened his tie. Being around women always made his neck sweat. He never learned how to ‘play the game.’ Hell, he didn’t even know what the game was.

    Geoffrey perused the book rack, but found he’d already read most of the titles. He wandered over to the magazine section, but nothing interested him. He picked up a Sports Illustrated and flipped through it anyway.

    Suddenly, Geoffrey heard a low rumble and felt the floor vibrate. The rumbling grew louder as the train got closer, howling into the terminal.

    It screeched to a stop and the doors slid open. The engineer was merely a grayish shadowy figure.  There were no passengers on the train and Geoffrey was the only person boarding.

    He spun around to face Sybil, “I can’t be the only passenger. Can I?”

    “Everybody makes this trip alone.” Sybil said gently. “Don’t be afraid.”

    “To Pennsylvania?” Jeffrey demanded. “I wanted to go to Paradise, Pennsylvania! You know, in Lancaster County?

    “Yes, well…”

    “I-I-I-I’ve changed my mind. I-I don’t want to go!”

    “You have to. Your ticket is paid for and it’s your time.”

    “My time? My time for what?” Geoffrey’s neck was really sweating now.

    “It’s all part of the plan, Geoffrey…” Sybil smiled dreamily. “All part of the plan…”

    “What plan?” He screamed. “Dammit! What plan!?”

    The engineer getting was impatient. “Geoffrey!” He snapped. “Enough of this! We all have to go sometime. You don’t want to be late again, do you?”

     

    Atlas Obscura

  • Guns & T-shirts

    Guns & T-shirts

    Today for Song Lyric Sunday, Jim has asked us to choose a song that references another group. Easier said than done, but I chose T-shirt by Thomas Rhett. “T-Shirt” is a song recorded by American country music singer Thomas Rhett. It was released on February 16, 2016 via Valory Music Group as the third single from his second studio album, Tangled Up (2015). The song was written by Ashley Gorley, Luke Laird, and Shane McAnally.

     

    Here are the lyrics:

     

    T-Shirt

    Get off work and we meet down at our spot
    We had a patio with a view of a parking lot
    It was two for one and four for two
    Had Christmas lights in the middle of June
    All hung up like I was on you

    I said “Hey hey baby do you wanna come over?”
    You say “No way”, then you move in closer
    Next thing I know you were wearing my

    T-Shirt right there
    Your hair messed up like a Guns-N-Roses video
    Ooh ooh so hot
    Still got it up in my head, you were moving around in the TV light
    I ain’t ever seen anything like, your dress, my floor, the way you wore, my my T-Shirt

    We walking up the stairs with the neighbors saying, “keep it down”
    But it’s hard to unlock the door when you’re making out (You know what I’m sayin’)
    You’ve been saying that we’ve gotta quit doing this,
    So why you leaning in for one more kiss,
    And pretty soon your sliding off what you’ve got on and slipping into my

    T-Shirt right there
    Your hair messed up like a Guns-N-Roses video
    Ooh ooh so hot
    Still got it up in my head, you were moving around in the TV light
    I ain’t ever seen anything like, your dress, my floor, the way you wore, my my T-Shirt

    Oh no baby no I can’t lie
    Sure look good in my t-shirt
    Oh no baby no I can’t lie
    You look good oh my my

    I said “Hey hey baby do you wanna come over?”
    You say “No way”, then you move in closer
    Next thing I know you were wearing my
    T-Shirt, oh you look just so dang hot in my T-Shirt
    You see you’re spinning around in my T-Shirt, right there
    Your hair messed up like a Guns-N-Roses video
    Ooh ooh so hot

    My T-Shirt right there
    Your hair messed up like a Guns-N-Roses video
    Ooh ooh so hot
    Still got it up in my head, you were moving around in the TV light
    I ain’t ever seen anything like, your dress, my floor, the way you wore, my T-Shirt

    Songwriters: ASHLEY GORLEY, LUKE LAIRD, SHANE L MCANALLY
    © Warner Chappell Music, Inc., Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., BMG Rights Management
    For non-commercial use only.
    Data from: LyricFind

  • Guest Barista Saturday: Meet Susan Marie Shuman

    braveandrecklessblog's avatarGo Dog Go Café

    1061806402.jpeg
    My name is Susan Marie Shuman and I currently live in Birmingham, AL. I’m a freelance writer, editor, proofreader, and introvert. I’ve also worked as a data entry clerk, admin assistant, bartender, waitress, and caregiver to the elderly. I am also the author of three books, Gutter Ball: A Collection of Short Stories, Eddie’s Underwear & Other Shorts, and Bad Meringue & Other Stories. You can find them all on my Amazon Author’s Page, right here.
    I share my life with one husband, one step-son, and four ridiculously spoiled cats.
    You can read more of my writing at The Abject Muse

    NewInT

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  • On the Rocks

    Today at the dVerse Poets pub it’s Sestina time!

    This complex form contains six stanzas, each with six lines and concludes with a three line envoi. The pattern of the form is as follows:
    1. A,B,C,D,E,F
    2. F,A,E,B,D,C
    3. C,F,D,A,B,E
    4. E,C,B,F,A,D
    5. D,E,A,C,F,B
    6. B,D,F, E,C,A
    7. BE, DC, FA (The envoi of three lines with BDF midline and ECA as the end lines.) Note: The Poetry Foundation gives this variation on the envoi: FB, AD, EC.


    She’s sick. Her nose starts to run

    and bleed. Crackling leaves

    fall out of the trees and spread

    a carpet of scratchy brown

    over her world. She hugs and rocks

    herself; staring down at a street

     

    that mocks her. A battered street

    sign wobbles, ignored. Cars run

    through it and punkls throw rocks

    in its face. The sight leaves her numb: she is like the brown

    dented sign. The paranoia begins to spread.

     

    Flinching beneath her bed spread,

    she tries to forget about her street

    life; but a trembling finger traces the brown

    stain on her pillow. Her senses run

    wild: she hears the scrape of leaves

    outside, and swears they are sharding rocks

     

    into powder. Salivating, she rocks

    hard and shivers, tasting the spread

    of howling madness. She feels the dead leaves

    scrawling her name on the street.

    Her best pair of stockings have a run

    in each leg, but her five inch brown

     

    stilettos are brand new. Her brown,

    shiny hair swirls at her waist. And she rocks

    across the asphalt knowing the run

    in her stocking will spread

    up her thighs with each strut. Street

    life agrees with her tonight. Damp leaves

     

    cling to one spiked heel as she leaves

    her corner with some john in a brown

    Chrysler. An hour later the street

    is forgotten as she shaves sparkling rocks

    into lines of powder. The euphoric spread

    whispers–daring her imagination to run

     

    beyond itself; run shrieking through wild leaves

    burning with psychosis. With arms spread like brown

    broken branches, she soars to the rocks in the street.

     

     

     

     

    Susan Marie Shuman/ Susan Writes Precise