Posts Tagged Free write Friday

I Never Killed Anyone

I wrote this in story form a few days ago for Kellie Elmore’s Free Write Friday, and knew then it would have to be converted to poem form for dVerse Poets Pub’s Open Link Night #131. Enjoy! Read the rest of this entry »

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I Never Killed Anyone

Saw Kellie Elmore’s Free Write Friday prompt first thing this morning, and the words she offered, train – burlap – fiction – pearls – vertigo, for use as inspiration for or in a story or poem, came immediately to life in my sometimes overly-active imagination. I wrote:

I Never Killed Anyone

My head resting on a burlap sack of feed, cheeks crisp from the cold seeping through unseen cracks in the gently rocking boxcar, I slept fitfully–like a man on a ledge–spinning in and out of dreams. Thankfully, my coat—dirty and worn—kept my body somewhat warm, while my faded jeans did no more than keep my legs from freezing. Expensive walking shoes—full of holes and slick as owl snot on the bottom—did nothing but magnify the cold. My feet felt like blocks of ice.

My vertigo dreams were soundless, but for the clacking of wheels and creaking boxcars, and in my waking moments I wondered if the movies in my mind were fiction or true crime. Probably some of both.

I’d written novels… a lifetime ago. One was full of drugs, sex, killing and rock and roll, and the other was about two homeless men who went on a crime spree one winter in Austin, Texas. They thought a warm jail cell would be better than the frigid concrete bed they slept on. It was cold as hell in Austin that winter. I know… I was there.

A black and white scene flashed across the screen of my dreams. The woman’s eyes were bulging, and her mouth was open in a silent scream as rough, calloused hands choked her life away. The string of pearls around her neck broke as she died, and as they floated to the floor of the parking garage, the scream came, shrill and long.

The squeal of the train’s brakes spun me back to semi-awake, and as I lay there shivering, I remembered my wife saying to me, after reading that scene, “Honey, they say writers write about what they know about.” She paused then added, “This scares me.” My whispered answer came with a no-extra-charge smile. “I never killed anyone, dear.”

Copyright © 2014 C Mashburn

If you’d like to read my novels–I really did write two of them about 14 years ago–you can purchase them on Amazon. The Devil’s Dust and Shelter. (I’ve actually written over a dozen crime novels, but only published the two.)

The Devil’s Dust devils dust jacket

The soul of man seethes wicked

Cold sweat reeks of evil lust

Blood runs hot and thin

When spiked with the devil’s dust

Copyright © 2013 C Mashburn

 

ALSO! Be sure and check out Kellie’s great books of poetry. She is, without doubt, one of the most talented poets of our time! Magic in the Backyard

 

 

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Mewler?… Mewler?… Mewler?

I was dreaming… one of those dreams that felt so real I couldn’t decide if I was asleep or awake. You know, total nonsense, but making sense; vague, but somehow crystal clear; characters straight out of Alice In Wonderland, but they seemed to know every intimate detail about me.

The guy at the head of the table was huge, sitting, but looking like he was standing up at the table, and the knife he held in his left fist had a long, wide, gleaming blade. The fork he was white-knuckling in his right hand was glowing red and looked like a pitch fork, minus the wood handle. Drool hung on his chin and the corners of his lips were specked with wet gray matter.

A bowl sat in front of a guy at the other end of the table; he was dipping a finger into the bowl, then licking it, as his eyes darted from me to the big guy. He made a pitiful mewling sound, then lifted the bowl to his face and began licking it clean.

It was an odd looking bowl; pinkish in color, a smooth, round, bottom, and a ring of what appeared to be gray hair around the top of it. When the bowl was thoroughly cleaned, the mewler—he was good-looking in a Clark Kent sort of way; smaller and obviously more mild-mannered than the guy at the other end of the table—put it in front of me and gave me a knowing wink.

Letters began to appear on his shirt one at a time and I watched in rapt fascination as they spelled out S-H-O-U-L-D-H-A-V-E-S. I had a vague sense of what the words meant, but, strangely, the discerning seemed to emanate from my chest rather than my head. I felt strangely light-headed, as I slowly turned toward the big guy at the other end of the table.

My heart cried out as letters appeared on his stained shirt, spelling out, W-H-A-T-I-F-S, the ache in my chest like a vise, as hot tears streamed down my cheeks.

Mewler whined from his end of the table, “Is that all there is?” 

Should Haves

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A Case of Hearts ~ the poem

I’ve been very busy moving and getting settled for the last couple of months, and so I haven’t written much of anything, and as a result haven’t posted anything on my favorite poetry and/or writing sites. One of my favorite sites is dVerse Poets Pub, so I’m posting this one there. Read the rest of this entry »

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A Case of Hearts ~ For Khole

I’ve been very busy moving and getting settled for the last couple of months, and so I haven’t written much of anything, and as a result haven’t posted anything on my favorite poetry and/or writing sites. One of my favorite sites is Kellie Elmore’s, Magic in the Backyard; especially her Free Write Friday feature. I’m hoping this poem can help bring some peace, courage, and hope to Kellie and her family. (Click on the link below to see the excerpt from Kellie’s site for details about the challenge her family is facing.) Read the rest of this entry »

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Kellie’s Free Write Friday!

Hey y’all! My friend and fellow blogger, Kellie Elmore does a thing she calls Free Write Friday on her blog—Magic in the Backyardevery Friday. She puts up a topic or a picture, and invites other poets and writers to submit a story about the prompt. I really enjoy participating in it, and thought perhaps some of you would like to join in. It’s not too late to get in on this weeks topic, New Year’s Resolutions. Read the rest of this entry »

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