Passions in Prose |
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Stones of Truth |
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miscellanea Member Elite
since 2004-06-24
Posts 4060OH |
He tried folding stones of truth, but they would not bend. Flat ones, round ones, granite, lead. Inadequate. Frustrated. He threw them instead. He flogged old ladies until their sagging skin bled. Sticks and stones did break ones’ bones and calling names did harm them. They became friendless leppers living in barren land. People in darker ages valued their heads, watching, listening, really seeing, then falling to exhaustion of inner over-heating. Occasionally, if fortunate, their stomachs would soon turn, upheaving their Dreads. Perhaps, overdramatically I’ve written times of the past. But, somewhere, some time in history, there were floggings and treatments of life that are foreign to me. Thank goodness. Yet, upon occasion, a remnant from a movie or an image from a book carry ivy, brushing against my skin unleashing its urushiol. Itches lead to scratching. Inadvertently, I rub my eyes. They, too, become affected to the point I must remove my rose-colored lenses. It is more comfortable to leave alone leaflets of three. With that said, I divert to a different concept of the usage of rock. (I shall be more caring of my taste and tiptoe with caution around leaves of three.) On the other side of the medieval fence, children may have been stacking stones (somewhat like twenty-first century toddlers do with their red, yellow and blue plastic blocks). In silence, they placed one stone atop another, building toward the sky while no one watched or applauded. They enlarged their visions: If a tower fell, they imagined a better, more stable way to build. Then they built it. If that didn’t work, they flexed their thinking to the use of other strategies, becoming active agents of balance and contemplaters of if/then. The game may not have been sustaining or fun if the river had created all rocks exactly the same, equal in weight, size and texture. But like the mineral of children, the river ran rich. |
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JamesMichael Member Empyrean
since 1999-11-16
Posts 33336Kapolei, Hawaii, USA |
Reminds me of when I was a little boy and would take a jar of bolts and screws of assorted sizes and play with them for hours as if they were two armies squaring off for battle...james |
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miscellanea Member Elite
since 2004-06-24
Posts 4060OH |
Interesting comparison, James. Thank you for your response. miscellanea |
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Bluesy Socrateaser Member Elite
since 2002-11-07
Posts 2417In The Mirror |
Reading your prose as a 'trilogy' Misc, made it interesting for me. I liked your usage of the old adage... "leaves of three". BTS ...just bein' Bluesy |
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