Sunday, June 28, 2009

The Reaper: Conclusion

Without further ado, here is the conclusion to The Reaper. When I began this short story piece, I was not sure where the narrative would take me. Initially, it was a small piece about The Sower but I felt the story needed a sequel and conclusion of sorts. The only challenge I had writing this piece was chopping it up into posts that maintained a level of coherency. Please let me know what you thought of the story and thank you for reading.


Kadin purposed in his heart to see his father again and soon discovered his legs travelling to the fields of his dream. The world around him appeared desolate. The solace of the morning was interrupted by the beating of birds' wings. Then he noticed a man hunched so low to the ground, he kissed the earth. Kadin knew it was his father.


Time's withered hands cast wrinkles on his frame, and he appeared like a dried prune shrinking in the sun's eyes. Kadin was afraid of his father's countenance but opened his mouth to speak.


"Sir, may I have a word with you," Kadin asked graciously and the man looked up at him. The sower's eyes were dark and his neck could barely lift his head in the heat.


"May I help you, young man," he answered and his voice trailed softly.


"I'm your son, Kadin." The sower paused at the revelation with great jubilation and a broad smile settled over his lips.


"Oh my son, my son. How did you know how to find me," and his feeble arms embraced his grown child.


The years which had elapsed, gathered together like young chicks nestling under their mother's wings. Time wound back its hands and instantly a young boy was chasing his father in a field of dreams.

Friday, June 26, 2009

Sky Watch Friday: Summertime






The weather continues to be stormy in the Northeast but there are days when the skies reveal a little summer.

Rippling lines
The clouds
Of summertime
Recline
On blue skies

You can view more lovely photos at:


Thursday, June 25, 2009

A Star Has Fallen

The world received sad news today that Michael Jackson has passed away. He was a music icon and legend, and his music has always inspired me to dance and cheered me up. He will be sadly missed.

Also, we heard the news that the lovely Farrah Fawcett has also passed away. The world will miss her beauty and grace.

Sky Watch will come tomorrow but today is just a time to remember.


A star has fallen
Moonwalks no more
Dance songs, love ballads
Silenced on earth
A star is lost

Wednesday, June 24, 2009

Simply Snicker's Challenge

This week's Simply Snicker's Challenge includes the words beside, blind, and bold. Thanks for the prompts Linda.


The accompanying photograph is Robert Henri's The Little Dancer (1917).

The flirty lines in her dress,

Peach cheeks and pomegranate lips,

Saffron satin inclines blind eyes,

To soak in the beauty of her splendor,

Radiating boldly for the painter's brush,

Besides the still ambiance of evening,

Light mingles on her countenance,

Dipping in the palette's glory.

Monday, June 22, 2009

After Life/ On Cloud Nine (Acrostic)

For this week's Acrostic Only challenge, I chose the phrases After Life and On Cloud Nine.

Awakening in
Flight
Time's
Euphoric
Resurrection
Lifts
Immovable
Faces into
Eternity

Opening
Nirvana

Contently
Loops
Over and
Under
Dreams

Nestling
In
New
Exhilaration

Sunday, June 21, 2009

March Iran

Before I begin this post, I'd like to say Happy Father's Day to all the dads out there. For some reason, I wasn't inspired to write something reflective about this day. My heart was tugging more towards what is going on in Iran. That is the inspiration for this piece.


March Iran
Arm in arm
March in tens
Hundreds
Thousands
Tens of thousands
Protestations
Indignation
Outrage
Rising like fire
The world grows heavy
Flashes of the sixties
Hangs upon the landscape
Dogs and hoses
Now police batons
History blazes a new chapter
March, Iran march

Saturday, June 20, 2009

The Reaper (Pt X)

Kadin woke shaking and trembling in his bed. The dew of the field and the image of his father melted. The wind cackled against his window. The warmth of the sun tapped against his conscience. In his heart, he conceived all could be rectified between him and his father. For he would make the reparations his father yearned for.


"Kadin, I'm surprised you contacted me," the cowboy spoke coolly. "Well, aren't you happy my boy? Don't you enjoy school?"


"School is fine," Kadin answered. He felt the words burn his tongue. "Sir, I have a business proposition for you. And you are the kind of man that can't refuse a good deal."


"Ha, I knew those classes would pay off. Speak, my boy, speak,"and the cowboy slapped his hands in glee.


"Thank you sir," Kadin continued. "You have trained me well but there is one thing that I seek. And that is the property that was stolen from my father."


"Stolen," and the cowboy's eyes sternly rebuked him. "Your mother sold me that land outright. And she spared your family from the famine."


"But it grieved my father and I cannot live while he sits in poverty," Kadin cried.


"The man may very well be rich and successful," the cowboy dismissed and turned to leave.


"He would have surely returned to his family if he was fine," Kadin spat back. And his hands curled into two iron fists.


"My boy, you've got a nasty temper there," the cowboy stammered. "All right, what can I do for you?" He sought to assuage the young man.


"Return the deeds of my father and I shall forfeit my education and work for you." The cowboy was surprised by his proposition.


"I will work until my debt has been paid. Now, if you will give me the deed." Kadin tore his transcripts and tosssed them at his feet. The cowboy recongized the boy's value. He could use a strong lad for manual labor.


"Okay, my boy. You win," the cowboy spoke smugly. "I worry for your mother though. What would she say if she saw you?" Kadin shook at the memory of his mother.


His mind wandered towards Julia's lips, and her eyes gaping at him. He held the memory of her knowing that he would not see her again. His future now chased a broken past.

Thursday, June 18, 2009

Sky Watch Friday: Rain Clouds




We've seen a lot of rain the past couple of week's, in the Northeast, and rain is in the forecast for at least a few more days. Here are some snapshots I took of the gray sky.

Thick and heavy
Gray turned black
I hear a patter
Raindrops falling down my back

You can view more lovely photos at:



Wednesday, June 17, 2009

100 Posts: The Journey

When I began this site in February, my goal was to create an outlet for my writing and to connect with other creative people. I studied other successful blogs in hope of garnering wider appeal. Some of these sites had hundreds of followers, and I quickly became discouraged.


Overtime, I developed several blogging friendships. I am appreciative to all of you who have visited and joined this site. Thank you all for your kind words. You all inspire me to write, create, and expand myself.


Above all, I am more dedicated to writing. Writing is more than a hobby to me. Writing is my passion and my life, and I am eager to pursue a career in the professional world. For other interested writers out there, please check out http://www.pw.org/. This website has poetry/ writing contests, publications, and more.


I pray this is a stepping stone for more wonderful discoveries and adventures. Thank you for reading Write In Motion.

Monday, June 15, 2009

Caring & Injustice (Acrostic Only)

For this week's Acrostic, I chose the words Caring and Injustice.

Caresses
Ascend
Ripening
Intimate and
New
Glories

Illegitimate and
Nefarious
Jokesters
Underpin
Socially
Treacherous
Ideals
Calculating
Extremism

Saturday, June 13, 2009

The Reaper (Pt IX)

He was drawn to the field where his father toiled. His feet tread heavily on the grass; the blades cut against him like knives. He watched his father with his eyes, bending and twisting in dirt. The sower recognized his own blood and beckoned him with the motion of his index finger.

Kadin walked closer but with every step, he felt a weight grip him. Opening the palms of Kadin's hands, the sower rested his hot forehead. His mind split open and all of his memories spread out like the pages of a book. He was careful not to disturb his father, nestling in the bed of sleep like a moth in a cocoon.

His father's memories flickered like fireflies at midnight. The first image appeared as his mother. Her skin gleaned like a golden goddess and fire blazed on the tip of her hair. He beheld her in the glory of her youth, and Kadin understood why his father became enraptured with her.

A young, gallant man trailed her. He was astonished to see the young candor in his father. The arch in his spine became invisible. He watched while the sun rose in their spirits and promise kissed their fingertips.

He witnessed his mother's belly grow like a watermelon and he and his sister came marching out. Blessings and happiness were bestowed upon the family.

Then a portentous cloud rose from the west and thrashed about their dwelling. Afterward, the ground dried up and the sky refused to rain. Here, was the great famine that sent his father from his home. Tears stained the cheeks of the little ones. How Kadin longed to comfort his sister.


Slowly, his father retreated and sorrow swallowed him up like the wind. He exhaled and the past dissipated in the darkness.

Thursday, June 11, 2009

Sky Watch Friday





The weather has been dreary this week so I posted some photos of the sky on lovelier days.


The curtain falls
And the sun sets
Drifting soundly
Beneath the horizon


You can view more lovely photos at:





Tuesday, June 9, 2009

We Dream

We dream there are
Vast worlds
In our minds
Discovered only when
We fall with sleep
Eyelids penetrate
Unnameable galaxies
Blink
And you'll float in clouds
Deep and pink
Thick as heat
Blankets of the mind
Oh let us sink deeper
Unfurling in flight
We become great thinkers
Herders of sheep
Numbered like stars
Leap
And you'll land on Mars
The sun rises
And dreams melt like dew
The remnants of night
Still stirring like stew

Sunday, June 7, 2009

I Love You/ Romance (Acrostic)

This week's Acrostic Only Challenge featured eight words. I chose the word Romance and the phrase I Love You.

Intimate

Love
Opens
Valentine's
Embers

Yodels
Orchestrate
Utopia

Relentless patters
Of rhythmic
Memories
Arrests hearts
Nimble woos
Coddle kisses
Enticing love

Saturday, June 6, 2009

The Reaper (Pt VIII)

He lay in the blue consciousness of tranquility. She was like a river pulsing and giving way with the utterance of the wind. Her waves caressed his skin, and he sank in deeper.


He woke up half believing it was a dream but when he turned to his side, she was lying next to him. She had fallen asleep with a book against her chest. He pressed his lips against hers, drawing water like a bucket at the bottom of the well. He longed for more but pushed back against the current of passion. She woke up dazed and confused before she caught his gaze on her.


"Did I fall asleep," she laughed, half embarrassed. "I'm a terrible host. I must have bored you."


"Not at all," he replied and his hand brushed her cheek. If she'd let him, Kadin would remain there watching her sleep. He was most content in that state.


"Back to work mister," she commanded sternly but the humor in her voice rose steadily. What Kadin most admired about her was her discipline and purpose. Without her command, he'd tumble in her beauty and drift away forever. She alone kept his grades afloat.


Love had also cured his anxious jitters. He no longer hid in his library or dorm room but rose steadily in his new found confidence. His roommate guessed the source of Kadin's jovial countenance.


"What's her name mate?"


"Julia," Kadin smiled.


"That's what I'm talking about," his friend cheered, offering him a fist pump. "Now we have to get a second girlfriend for you."


"No, she's the one," Kadin laughed, amused at his friend's proposition.


The old world that preceded his new existence seemed almost dreamlike. He could vaguely recall his mother and sister by the vine house. Nor could he remember the fields and plains he once roamed in adolescence. Only the occasional letters from his mother jolted him back to his former self.


Then one night, while he drifted to sleep, the memory of his father gathered like portentous clouds. What did he want?

Thursday, June 4, 2009

Sky Watch Friday

I played with the camera features and took some faded shots of the sky.






Fading skies
Colors recede
Drifting freely
On the horizon


You can view more lovely photos at:





Tuesday, June 2, 2009

Wisdom

There are inflections of wisdom
In her voice so deep
Her words coil like roots
In my fingers
I grasp for its depth
But it escapes me
Shrinking to its earthen bed

Monday, June 1, 2009

Living On a Prayer

Jenners at Life With a Little One and More has invented a fun game over at her site called Lit Riffs. The object is to come up with the name of a song and create a short story. I chose Living On a Prayer by Bon Jovi. I hope you check out her site. She is a lot of fun and very funny.



He swallowed hard as the bus tottered down his block. He envisioned the yellow paint as mustard and his mind devoured the bus like a hot dog. Or, he thought, he could dress into his army fatigues, climb into the tallest tree, and fire a cannon. Metal would rain down on the earth and he would remain supreme. Alas, his herculean mind would not save him from his fate.


He heard his mother's quickening footsteps behind him and pictured her sauntering towards him in cowboy boots. Her spurs hissed like a rattle snake, and the brim of her hat hung so low, he could only see her darkened eyes.


"Who's messin' with my son," she spat and twirling two pistols in her hands, shot the tires of the bus and wrestled the driver.


Sadly, when she entered the room, she lost the cowboy act. She ran in with dopey bunny slippers and a brown paper bag in her hands.


"You almost forgot your lunch," she scolded and kissed him fiercely on the cheek. He suppressed a whimper while his stomach performed somersaults and tricks with his breakfast. The bus was coming; his fate was sealed.


All eyes were on him, prying his thoughts and judging his fear. He understood the odds were against him.


"One thousand to one," his friend lamented. Even kids that didn't know him were plotting his demise.


"Man, it may be a fatal blow to the rib."


"Or head," chimed in another. They were playing "pin the injury on the dummy." But what could he do? What could a skinny, 100 pound kid do when you're called out in middle school.


The boy in question, or he-man as some called him, was Gus Grinder. The eighth grader was carved out by Greek gods, the sons of wrestlers and linebackers. Dude was stacked with unnameable strength. He was a legend.


I told Andy all of this on his first day of classes. Poor kid was struggling to tie his shoelaces. His glasses were slipping off his face and he was sweating awful. Perhaps the new kid never bothered to listen.


Regardless, it didn't stop Andy from mouthing off to Gus. Gus was prime for another bully hurricane and was aiming towards me when Andy did the unthinkable.


"Hey, don't hurt him," Andy warned. "If you beat him up, I won't have any friends left." His humor didn't tickle Gus.


"All right, see me tomorrow at the playground punk." The whole school knew about the showdown and though we all thought Andy was stupid to show his face, we also admired him for being brave.


The kid was turning green before the big fight.


"Joe, I'm shaking in my shoes. I may even wet my pants. I'm so nervous."


"Then, why did you show up," I barked.


"I'm living on a prayer." Living on a prayer? For the skies to part and God's heavenly angels to save you? The kid was insane.


When the bells rang, the mob stormed the playground. Andy refrained from eating his lunch.


"What's the point? I'm going to puke it up anyway."


"You know you could bolt for the exits," I suggested. "I'll say you were sick and had to take off."


"Nah," he sighed. "I have to face this guy or he'll be on me for the rest of the year." I have to admit Andy wasn't all that stupid. He came prepared with a mouth guard and helmet. His attire prompted a lot of giggles.


"Just pray for me Joe," he whispered and walked his way to the center of the playground. His feet were turning into cement yet he managed to reach Gus without fainting.


Light began to glow from Andy's tiny frame. At first I mistook it for the glare of the sun. But nobody else seemed to notice his aura.


Gus swung his boulder arms at Andy's head missing him each time. Andy's light frame danced joyfully around large, rhinoceros Gus. But skipping and hopping in every direction, his foot slipped on a rock, and he fell on his knees.


Gus lifted his iron fist but Andy miraculously dodged him. Turning to smile at me, he nailed Gus Grinder below the belt. A seismic earthquake shook the ground when Gus collapsed on the pavement.


In triumph, Andy slew the giant living on a prayer.