Category Archives: Memories

QUAIL, IN‽ : Liquid Time A to Z Blogging Challenge 2021

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QUAIL, IN‽

LIQUID TIME

Life isn’t a matter of milestones, but of moments.” ~ ~ Rose Kennedy

(ZV) withered

(Compositions + Substance) Bond

Broke

A rupture

Null unit { }

Z

V

Unjoined

The moment slipped out of their control





elsEwhen Z

anger anguish escalate/s/d to nth level extremes bringing a mind blankness overruled by the raging mixture of emotions Z had no awareness of the deaths the sundering caused in Z’s wake diseases transferred at rates unimaginable when all Z was brought to islands of quiet of peace of centering only to be jaunted into the swirls of destructive force to return to peace to seek out violence to destroy to quiet to all things detrimental all until Z challenged Khronos who slapped Z down rejected rejected snubbed erased until





elsEwhen V
V filtered through equations, all equations
Dispelling the soul freezing zemblanity
That washed over and through V
To return to equations, formulas,
Routine
While suffering this travesty of moments
That soothed, touched, cherished, ached
That itched, burned, chilled, ached
In a melody of high bliss
Counterbalanced by exquisite agony
An emotional/pragmatic overload
Where it all led to Khronos
Who had no sense of V
Draining V
until

JANICULUM CALLED TO THEM

MOMENTS: Liquid Time A to Z Blogging Challenge 2021

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MOMENTS

LIQUID TIME

I don’t think it is possible to contribute to the present moment in any meaningful way while being wholly engulfed by it.” Maria Popova

elsEwhen ∞

the Doomsday Clock at 100 seconds to midnight

TRANSITION

Z grasps the fringe of Khronos

“Zehara! Nooooooo…”

“The only reason for time is so that everything doesn’t happen at once.” ~ ~ Albert Einstein

COMMENTS ARE ALWAYS WELCOME AND APPRECIATED.

THANK YOU.

TALES OF TALE SPINNING

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©Edward Gorey

TALES OF TALE SPINNING

OR

The A to Z Epics, More or Less

I started Tale Spinning at the beginning of 2011 as an offshoot of BornStoryteller. The latter went more towards non-fiction, rants, comparisons, and observations. Tale Spinning: an experiment in creative writing was the space I needed.
Since then, I’ve gone through periods of both non-stop writing and those “dry” spells, where nothing inspired or motivated me.

Joining the A to Z Blogging Challenge in April 2011 was one of the smartest moves I’ve ever made. I’ve pushed my own boundaries over the ten years, always looking for that “challenge.” Taking risks is stimulating. A lot of what I write is expressing what is burning within me at the moment.

Which is probably why I have trouble continuing plunging into the worlds and characters I’ve built over the years. The roller-coaster upheaval of my life during these last ten years have jaggedly flowed from euphoric to complete and utter numbness. This isn’t a pity party. Just stating the facts, ma’am.

Many bloggers/writers I have “met along the way have become family. What is “Family is Chosen” for $2,000, Alex?” (Man, I miss Alex Trebek. Right now, I am Team Levar Burton to become the new host. Reading Jeopardy Rainbow!). It’d take me the rest of the day (it’s early here) to point you all out, but my thanks and love are hereby sent. I even met the woman I love writing these blog posts during that first A to Z. Present tense, even though we are not together anymore.

Shit happens.

Anyways.

List Time. In case, you know, want to read past (and present) A to Z attempts. Each set starts with A on April 1st of that year. There might be a few preceding posts/teases over the years as I tried out the new voice I was shooting for.

A TO Z POSTS

Here’s something not A to Z that I’d love to get your feedback/comments. I keep getting drawn back to it on an emotional/mental level, but have not added a thing to it in quite a while. These were written during the summer of 2011.

The Kitsune-Mochi and Fox Saga

HALCYON POINT OF APOAPIS: Liquid Time A to Z Blog Challenge 2021

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HALCYON POINT OF APOAPIS

Liquid Time

A to Z Blog Challenge 2021

“The moment is not properly an atom of time but an atom of eternity. It is the first reflection of eternity in time, its first attempt, as it were, at stopping time.” ~ ~Søren Kierkegaard

A total absence of light.

Whatever you have thought of as darkness is another lie. The bromides swirl with similes, throwing up black as night, a raven, a ministers cloak, the death card, a void, as pitch, black as the devil’s heart. You’ve lost paradise, unaware that the loss is profound.

Valentina Ceit Marin never gave any thought to the immensity of Eternity. She had been filled beyond any brim with awareness of the moment, framing the moments to come, shedding the moments of the past. Her no looking back attitude has brought her HERE.

Panic is begging to take control. The gut squeezes tight. Both temples are strafing her head, settling into the eyes, the base of the nasal passage. Valentina tried to raise her hand to pinch the bridge of her nose. No hand came. Trying again, failure beat a drum. All jointed points of her skeleton were trigger locked. She took in that she could breath, that her eyes still rolled around, that the lids could go up or down.

It was then that she grew aware of what was not outside of her body. She wasn’t standing on any surface. No chains or puppet master strings held her up. She wasn’t floating, drifting around the void of space. Neither weightless nor sense of being. She was THERE.

Panic began to win. She had a mouth but it would not open to release the inside screams. Knowing this was not the her that she was and the her she cultivated, the shell, direct confrontation, the eagerness, the mean moments, the want of things, the dismissals. It was too much.

It was, too much.

It was…

A fracture of light.

Z was. Here. There.

A vast difference of space split them apart. The were opposites in depth.

Sweat filtered through Val’s skin. It beaded and dripped from her brow, coated her arms. Another aspect that was not Val.

She could not do anything.

“Hello, Valentina.”

FLEETING: Liquid Time A to Z Blog Challenge April 2021

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FLEETING

Liquid Time

A to Z Blog Challenge

“Time is a companion that goes with us on a journey. It reminds us to cherish each moment, because it will never come again. What we leave behind is not as important as how we have lived.” ~ ~ Captain Jean-Luc Picard

Zero hour. Day. Era. Epoch. Eon. Aeon.

Z subdivides along a non-unilinear line. Stopping milliseconds to absorb, dispel, bask.

Those are the fragments where a thought filters through.

Z assembles the pieces. Z experiences every emotional spectrum idea, searching for

Love.

Z does not believe in love. Love, to Z, equates to Pain.

Pain is a constant. Love=Pain never has/is/will be love ≠ pain. It is exact. For Z, it is exact.

There are no approximates.

Any/every instance Love touches Z is followed by an infinite drop.

Z is lost.

Inside, Z is lost in gathering specifics. The pure, unwavering distillation of Z’s perception of Love.

The amassing is complete.

Z stretches the limits of time to compact and keep.

The next second arrives.

Without the pain association. Z is blocking out the aftermath, the thrown away aspect, the being left, unnoticed, unwanted.

Another point arrives. The whole splinters.

Z

TRANSISTION

NEW!!!! TALE SPINNING is also a Podcast!

I plan to start recording MY reading of my posts. Maybe by 5/12/2021. Knowing me, maybe 2022. In the meantime, I hope you enjoy the narration.

You can find Tale Spinning on:

Spotify iTunes PocketCasts Breaker Google Podcasts RadioPodcast (last two awaiting verification).

Tale Spinning, the Podcast, will include past series, interviews, and more.

Please Support Tale Spinning.

You can subscribe on any of the above platforms.

Comments are always welcome.

Cold Hearted John Meadows

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My name is John Meadows, at least, that’s what it says on my birth certificate. At this moment, I’m not sure if that is even true.

I woke up in a bedroom. It was an unknown space. Except, as I lifted my head up off the pillow, I noticed a picture that looked familiar. I stood, walked over to it: it was flush with the wall. An outdoor moment in time. There was a man, and a woman. They held each other, big smiles on their faces.

The man leaned on a vast gnarled tree. Instead of branches, It looked as if seven tree trunks wound around each other, an abstract weave of latticework wood. The leaves were thick, a dark shade of green that looked almost like they were black. They hung over the couple like a frame.

The woman had her head resting on the man’s shoulder. His hair fell to his collar, so dark that at first, I thought it looked like it was cut out of the photo. Her hair was lighter, a mixture of golden brown and red. I remembered that it was called Auburn. I don’t know why I didn’t realize that at first. Yes, Auburn-haired, long, it fell down and over his chest, making his torso look like it disappeared as well.

The photo bothered me. Her eyes sparkled when the shot was taken. His eyes held little to no reflection. I looked. His didn’t, even with the sunlight spotlighting where they stood. Her eyes, the tilt of her head, her smile: there was life. He smiled, but it didn’t seem to reach his eyes. They were flat.

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a free-standing full-body mirror to my left. It stood at a tilt near white folding slat doors. I shuffled my way over to it. I could not remember what I looked like, nor who I was. Maybe, I thought, looking at the reflection, things would come into focus. My heart began to accelerate, chest tightening, and it was getting difficult to breathe. I hadn’t been aware of breathing before this. I was now.

Coming into full view, I felt my head had received something smashing into it. It hurt like hell. I had to touch my head. It felt like bone shattered. I checked. It felt solid. But the pain. It was like a steel bar was slammed against my forehead.

A steel bar? Why did I…no, more a bat? Baseball? No, no. A baseball. Yes, a baseball hurtling to me, not even registering that I needed to move, to duck, do something. But it was too fast. I was too slow. I was up, then nothing. It felt just like that, although I didn’t know why. I still don’t know why I felt that way when I stepped in front of the mirror.

Yes, I was the man in that photo, even though I did not remember that. It was clear upon viewing, my eyesight was waving, no floaters, no film distortion over the irises. I looked at myself in the mirror, then over to the photo. Goosebumps paraded across my spine.

Turning, I took in the rest of the room. White minimalism in paint and fabrics. Same with my pajama pants. I noticed, then, that I had no shirt on. A look in the mirror traveled down; before, I was solely intent only on my face. My chest was hairy but not matted. Three parallel deep pink scars ran from my left armpit to just past the bellybutton. An inny. They didn’t hurt as much as throb. Noticing them did not help my rapid breathing and heart rate.

The next moments are still a blur. I know I looked around: the place had been tidy when I awoke. Now, drawers, men’s clothing, papers littered the white. All the bed linen was on the floor. The sliding slat doors were open wide, showing a closet that was only half full. I took this all in, sitting on the floor, leaning against the bed. I felt something hard and looked down. I had a metal lockbox in my hands. My breathing shallowed, and I felt myself calm down to regular human beats. At least, what I thought were normal.

There was no lock to have to break into. The lid swung up with ease, showing the mound of papers it carried. I riffled through the envelopes, unfolded the various papers, and only stopped when I found a Birth Certificate. Mine, I have assumed, until someone tells me differently. 

My name is John Meadows.

If you are listening to this tape, then most likely I am dead. Or too far away for any meaning of living or dead is inconsequential. This is the story of what happened from that moment of waking, clueless to everything that had meaning to me. I know that the woman in the photo was Jean, my partner. I know she no longer…is here. Where? At this time, I still do not know how to answer that.

Whoever you are, whenever you are, do yourself and loved ones a favor.

Do not stand under the leaves of that massive, gnarled tree.

It is not the Tree of Life.

That Morning

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Maori-Grey-Color-Ink-3D-Cracked-Face-Tattoo-On-Boys-Hand-For-Man
Pulled up to the curb
Hated building in sight
Drive shifted to Park
Pinging from under the hood

Tools for the day gathered
Unsnapped restraints
Body free
Yet, an unexpected hellish message came to me

Heavy chills from that winter day
Were nothing to the inward heat
Words tore through the chest
Filling up a now empty cavity

Pain sat in those words
Brushing off; tossed away
Snow fell in furried force
Muddled mind filled with numbing pain

The words made no sense
Content denied
The words finally made sense
As what was left flew away

No awareness of time falling away
Park was gone; drive remained
Yet no destination set
To a melted mind


We don’t grow when things are easy.

We grow when we face challenges.” ~ Joyce Meyer

A Kaleidoscope of Memories

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A KALEIDOSCOPE OF MEMORIES

Three

From Two

Forged by blood;

Laughter, tears,

Disagreements, hugs,

Friendship, caring,

Drifting away, coming back

Good times, desperate measures,

A rhythm was set

Connections held

Through the years

Bonds

Links

Love

 

In memory: Susan, Steven, Theilia, and Bernie

For my cousin, Sharon