Wednesday, July 29, 2015

fff#65

my attempt@ flash fiction friday #65; [inclusions]trigger: frustrate, elate, irate, inflate [conjugate to suit]

it does take time; rome eh build in a day and neither can you. and is always more disruption than you expect, requiring more repair than you anticipate; you never know how far you gone until you try to return.
[you] cyah remember wha’ to do with the day or how to be out in the world, wandering, lost, in dark space and empty tracts of time, not knowing which of life’s potholes you drop into and no sense of how to dig your way back out neither, frustrated for letting yourself come to this, confuse how you fall so far and eh notice your descent…you give away too much.
the dark eh wha’ you fall into, is wha’ you face when all that left is pieces of you fluttering weakly in the wake of the vanquisher. the dark is the hole left where before you were independent spirit in warrior mask. the dark is what you will pull the remaining parts of yourself tightly together over and use your remaining breath to inflate with something resembling life so you can at least accomplish wha’ you here for.
[you] cyah let them break you. when things fall apart, gather your torn+frayed edges and begin fresh; no time for the damage trying to climb up out your throat and inflict itself on the world to ease the pain in the place it originate. when you find yourself irate, fastforward through the chaos from feeling lost to feeling loss to finding+rebuilding a self; what feel like it may never come, will, and fighting your way back brings elation you never expect…you never know how far you gone from yourself until you try to return.

walk good.

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Friday, July 24, 2015

fff#64 +flash fiction friday #65[trigger]

again, late enough that i combining my attempt@fff#64 +trigger#65 in 1post; flash fiction friday #64 trigger: …but it was already too late…

losing data you dig for, search+research for, come like losing piece of yourself.
you in so deep you remember the threads of years of work, want to feel you could reconstruct the file/folder because you know the articles, fora, media…until the weight of urls unrecallable sinks such notions, forcing acceptance of dreams drowning in the inferior recall of your too-human mind…but later, if your life doh depend on it, after the screaming scramble to try+retrieve what neither jesus nor yourself (inexplicably) save, later, if you resist the urge to gut yourself, if you skip social media suicide, later, when the frenzy of what to do fizzle in the sizzle of the latest lacouray, later comes relief…freedom from information.
and nothing ever feel so sweet.
you cyah imagine the almost-unbearable lightness of being, the temporary giddiness, childhood revisited, to be relieved of bits+bytes of baggage in this timeline where all moments in memory carry all others previous+after…but it shortlived, reprieve from responsibility…the system need you, la basse need you, global need you to keep working, keep mining information.
my crash was unprecedented, intrasystem failure of unthinkable scale; the freedom was exhilarating. mindblowing.
i was the eye of a hurricane and when the 1s+0s clear my untethered senses make out that outside la basse exists. must exist. most of us never realise it even have “outside" la basse, but for a hot minute, i was there. nothing connecting me to the system and indirectly to global; free to think, do, feel, whaever i want…and as quick as i grasp the magnitude of it, before i could think to prolong it, i hear the incoming-alert and a new project plug-into my inbox and freedom done gone before i even appreciate knowing it.
if only had know outside exist, as the data disappear i woulda disappear me, too, but la basse does track everything in realtime; by the time my too-human mind catch up to possibility, it was already too late…

and flash fiction friday #65; [inclusions]trigger: frustrate, elate, irate, inflate [conjugate to suit]
rules of engagement:
you will send in your suggestions for flash fiction friday triggers (starter sentences/phrases, closers, titles, inclusions, structural challenges, etc.) anytime during the week up to 11.55a.m. friday, trinbago timezone; i will post the new fff trigger by noon friday trinbago timezone.*
if your trigger is not chosen and you think it is too brilliant not to be chosen, you will send it in again the next week.
you will write an anecdote, short story, song or novel length prose poem using the trigger provided.
you will add comments and appropriate linkage to my trigger-post indicating your desire to participate and the completion of your piece (don't need a blogger/gmail account to comment on my blog).
you may join in at any time prior to deadline.*
you will display your piece as a post on your own blog (or as a comment on my trigger-post or fasbook note or whaever, once we can all read it- please make sure we can all access the link to read it, not just those who are your friends on fasbook; there's a way to create public links for that, right?).
you will be done by monday noon trinbago timezone.*[in light of collective busyness and my general mentality, i not pressed about these deadlines 'cause i'd rather have fun reading late than never, so if you want to fff past deadline, go through hard, just make sure you comment on the appropriate trigger-post so we know which it belongs to, and if is a real old trigger, comment on the most recent post as well so we know something new to back-back+read...if nobody fffs i'll leave the same trigger up until at least 1person other than myself writes a piece]*
write fresh!
walk good.

1 Comments:

Blogger sweet trini said...

fff#65 done+posted@ http://urbanfolktales.blogspot.com/2015/07/fff65.html
walk good

11:04 a.m.  

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Friday, July 17, 2015

flash fiction friday #64

my timing bad to worse with good days randomly thrown in jus' to throw you off, yes...late, again, because, life, again; no ado, flash fiction friday #64 trigger: ...but it was already too late...

rules of engagement:
you will send in your suggestions for flash fiction friday triggers (starter sentences/phrases, closers, titles, inclusions, structural challenges, etc.) anytime during the week up to 11.55a.m. friday, trinbago timezone; i will post the new fff trigger by noon friday trinbago timezone.*
if your trigger is not chosen and you think it is too brilliant not to be chosen, you will send it in again the next week.
you will write an anecdote, short story, song or novel length prose poem using the trigger provided.
you will add comments and appropriate linkage to my trigger-post indicating your desire to participate and the completion of your piece (don't need a blogger/gmail account to comment on my blog).
you may join in at any time prior to deadline.*
you will display your piece as a post on your own blog (or as a comment on my trigger-post or fasbook note or whaever, once we can all read it- please make sure we can all access the link to read it, not just those who are your friends on fasbook; there's a way to create public links for that, right?).
you will be done by monday noon trinbago timezone.*[in light of collective busyness and my general mentality, i not pressed about these deadlines 'cause i'd rather have fun reading late than never, so if you want to fff past deadline, go through hard, just make sure you comment on the appropriate trigger-post so we know which it belongs to, and if is a real old trigger, comment on the most recent post as well so we know something new to back-back+read...if nobody fffs i'll leave the same trigger up until at least 1person other than myself writes a piece]*
write fresh!
walk good.

1 Comments:

Blogger sweet trini said...

done+posted@ http://urbanfolktales.blogspot.com/2015/07/fff64-flash-fiction-friday-65.html alongside new trigger...walk good.

12:07 p.m.  

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Thursday, July 16, 2015

fff#63

barely in time but better timing than las' time...my flash fiction friday #63; [inclusions]trigger: fail, hail, rail, bail, sail[bonus]

the bathroom was full of smoke. i crack the window and wonder, again, if i mad. sometimes i’s watch myself do things, knowing full well they terrible, and i terrible, knowing i should stop, and still i do it, watching the trainwreck unfold like a movie insteada the life i supposedly control, like when i watch myself horn brian 9months straight with that red fashion-rasta from work i eh even like just because i was bored and feeling for a different totie, or when i strike the match underneath my grandmother house and watch it ketch first the old barrel full up with clothes that somehow manage to survive multiple handings-down, then engulf my old tricycle and start snaking toward the back step before i run for my brother…
…smoke.
i open the window more and try to ignore the soft thud. las’ thing i need is more confusion; focus on matters at hand like the heat steady burning closer to my fingers, wasting. i pull long+deep and study the nex’ immediate concern, him sailing over the railing, shocked face falling past the staircase, flailing arms striving for flight and failing, landing so much louder and more final than these insistent little bumps distracting from my current calculations…i try to close my mind to the sound, pretend the noise outside more like limes hitting the roof than it is; nutting cyah be more important than how to escape this scene undetected: me eh have bail money nor jail time to spare.
[but] the not-limes falling faster+harder, drowning out memory of who he mighta tell i coming, if i mention to the girls, if they even know we talking again…i cyah think further than to run and know that eh enough to save me if my visit known…my feet carry me back through the house and i want to check for evidence of myself as i retrace steps but cyah seem to make myself stop until i pass him and reach the front door. i throw it open to the soundtrack of my destruction, then feel my face nearly crack with the force of my instinctive grin…
hail?!
just a dream, then…

walk good.

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Friday, July 10, 2015

fff#62+ flash fiction friday #63[trigger]

i extra-trini [read: late] with my fff#62 and thus posting it alongside this week's fresh fff trigger; my (very short but triggerwords in order; very chuffed!) flash fiction friday #62; [inclusions]trigger: terror, raw, equal/ity, free/dom/ness, dead/th

endless supply of new terrors
fluttering in my ribcage
trapped by intercostals
ricocheting off bones
inside raw+pulsing
connection run deep like secrets
equal parts me+not
greater than the sum
adoring entanglement
screaming for escape
on fire and ready to melt
free of thought
of breath
of life
chasing
sweetest
death


and flash fiction friday #63; [inclusions]trigger: fail, hail, rail, bail [bonus]sail
rules of engagement:
you will send in your suggestions for flash fiction friday triggers (starter sentences/phrases, closers, titles, inclusions, structural challenges, etc.) anytime during the week up to 11.55a.m. friday, trinbago timezone; i will post the new fff trigger by noon friday trinbago timezone.*
if your trigger is not chosen and you think it is too brilliant not to be chosen, you will send it in again the next week.
you will write an anecdote, short story, song or novel length prose poem using the trigger provided.
you will add comments and appropriate linkage to my trigger-post indicating your desire to participate and the completion of your piece (don't need a blogger/gmail account to comment on my blog).
you may join in at any time prior to deadline.*
you will display your piece as a post on your own blog (or as a comment on my trigger-post or fasbook note or whaever, once we can all read it- please make sure we can all access the link to read it, not just those who are your friends on fasbook; there's a way to create public links for that, right?).
you will be done by monday noon trinbago timezone.*[in light of collective busyness and my general mentality, i not pressed about these deadlines 'cause i'd rather have fun reading late than never, so if you want to fff past deadline, go through hard, just make sure you comment on the appropriate trigger-post so we know which it belongs to, and if is a real old trigger, comment on the most recent post as well so we know something new to back-back+read...if nobody fffs i'll leave the same trigger up until at least 1person other than myself writes a piece]*
write fresh!
walk good.

1 Comments:

Blogger sweet trini said...

fff#63 done+posted@ http://urbanfolktales.blogspot.com/2015/07/fff63.html
walk good.

12:09 p.m.  

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Friday, July 03, 2015

flash fiction friday #62

flash fiction friday #62; [inclusions]trigger: terror, raw, equal/ity, free/dom/ness, dead/th/etc.

rules of engagement:
you will send in your suggestions for flash fiction friday triggers (starter sentences/phrases, closers, titles, inclusions, structural challenges, etc.) anytime during the week up to 11.55a.m. friday, trinbago timezone; i will post the new fff trigger by noon friday trinbago timezone.*
if your trigger is not chosen and you think it is too brilliant not to be chosen, you will send it in again the next week.
you will write an anecdote, short story, song or novel length prose poem using the trigger provided.
you will add comments and appropriate linkage to my trigger-post indicating your desire to participate and the completion of your piece (don't need a blogger/gmail account to comment on my blog).
you may join in at any time prior to deadline.*
you will display your piece as a post on your own blog (or as a comment on my trigger-post or fasbook note or whaever, once we can all read it- please make sure we can all access the link to read it, not just those who are your friends on fasbook; there's a way to create public links for that, right?).
you will be done by monday noon trinbago timezone.*[in light of collective busyness and my general mentality, i not pressed about these deadlines 'cause i'd rather have fun reading late than never, so if you want to fff past deadline, go through hard, just make sure you comment on the appropriate trigger-post so we know which it belongs to, and if is a real old trigger, comment on the most recent post as well so we know something new to back-back+read...if nobody fffs i'll leave the same trigger up until at least 1person other than myself writes a piece]*
write fresh!
walk good.

1 Comments:

Blogger sweet trini said...

done+posted [and fff#63 triggered]@ http://urbanfolktales.blogspot.com/2015/07/fff62-flash-fiction-friday-63.html
walk good

12:12 p.m.  

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Tuesday, June 30, 2015

fff#61

trying a ting here, writing for a preexisting character addressing a nex' preexisting character, using fff as the experiment it intended to be; still eh sure the end strong enough but these characters wukkin to deadline too, so, ready or not, here we come; my flash fiction friday #61 [adjust tenses+pronouns to suit]trigger: …everything you [do and/or say] only make it worse…

all them pleading faces, nothing like wha’ you expect when you come out; when you went off, gun cock, you thought yourself a martyr for the cause, martyr for your sins, to be taken down once you get everybody attention focus on the right issue, and your own issues dead+bury with you. but the universe had a nex’ plan. now you here in front the people, people who need somebody to show them the way, people looking to you because they feel them currently jockeying for leadership doh have their interests to study…but you know you was only ever a man of talk; all talk, no action (to the despair of the long-suffering madam) and this time your grand attempt at self-sabotage backfire…or maybe work too damn good for your own damn good…your tongue slip on your conscience and sell out your secrets, one after the next, everything you say only make it worse until you thought you done and could retire to obscurity and not have to actually do wha’ you say the good lord tell you do.
you know i doh care for allyuh religious types; i’s my own religion, am my own obeah. but you was called.
i hear the call, hear your name, see your face behind my eyelids.
you have been called.
you have been called to come out.
we called to come out and stand up, stand up for the people.

walk good.

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Friday, June 26, 2015

flash fiction friday #61

late because, life, again; so it go. no ado.
flash fiction friday #61; [tenses+pronouns to suit] trigger: …everything you [do and/or say] only make it worse…

rules of engagement:
you will send in your suggestions for flash fiction friday triggers (starter sentences/phrases, closers, titles, inclusions, structural challenges, etc.) anytime during the week up to 11.55a.m. friday, trinbago timezone; i will post the new fff trigger by noon friday trinbago timezone.*
if your trigger is not chosen and you think it is too brilliant not to be chosen, you will send it in again the next week.
you will write an anecdote, short story, song or novel length prose poem using the trigger provided.
you will add comments and appropriate linkage to my trigger-post indicating your desire to participate and the completion of your piece (don't need a blogger/gmail account to comment on my blog).
you may join in at any time prior to deadline.*
you will display your piece as a post on your own blog (or as a comment on my trigger-post or fasbook note or whaever, once we can all read it- please make sure we can all access the link to read it, not just those who are your friends on fasbook; there's a way to create public links for that, right?).
you will be done by monday noon trinbago timezone.*[in light of collective busyness and my general mentality, i not pressed about these deadlines 'cause i'd rather have fun reading late than never, so if you want to fff past deadline, go through hard, just make sure you comment on the appropriate trigger-post so we know which it belongs to, and if is a real old trigger, comment on the most recent post as well so we know something new to back-back+read...if nobody fffs i'll leave the same trigger up until at least 1person other than myself writes a piece]*
write fresh!
walk good.

1 Comments:

Blogger sweet trini said...

done+posted@ http://urbanfolktales.blogspot.com/2015/06/fff61.html
walk good.

5:52 p.m.  

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Tuesday, June 23, 2015

fff#60

my flash fiction friday #60; trigger: …hate [pronoun]self for wanting…

letters swim into words+sentences; thoughts crash against each other and i feel like i going+vomit…she had ask me if it still had curry crab on the table when she reach, late, as usual, she+he both, as usual, smug, like they really believe alla-we cyah tell wha’ the arse going on, like we eh seeing them both leave for lunch every pay-friday and neither reach back until we all come back out monday morning; steups…and as much as i hate myself for wanting a 3rd helping i somehow cyah stop my lying mouth trying to save for my greedy belly what i had done make out was a las’ serving hiding in the dish, just enough curry to saturate another warm, fluffy, buttery heap of buss-up-shut, masquerading as mere gravy because joan had know marcia was currying crab for today too and heaven forbid marcia own should somehow impress mr.johnson more, so joan gone all out, cracking shell and shredding meat until it allow me to tell the little white lie, “nah, dread, alla-them pot is jus’ dregs; it might have some dry paratha in the microwave, but tha’s all, nah…” to discourage her foraging+discovering my treasure, since she seem to be looking for something specific…my heart drop when she say she hungry+going+see if it have enough sauce to take down the dryness of a plate of lystra buss-up-shut, but wha’ you go do, eh? cyah have everything…now my screen screaming my foolish mistake…they rush her to port of spain general, but too late; her throat close up faster than her brain+organs could get the oxygen they need to survive…an hour ago my biggest sins were lying+greed; now, i’s a murderer…

walk good.

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Friday, June 19, 2015

flash fiction friday #60

this extra-late because life is full of ambushes; apologies, and flash fiction friday #60; trigger: ...hate [pronoun]self for wanting...

rules of engagement:
you will send in your suggestions for flash fiction friday triggers (starter sentences/phrases, closers, titles, inclusions, structural challenges, etc.) anytime during the week up to 11.55a.m. friday, trinbago timezone; i will post the new fff trigger by noon friday trinbago timezone.*
if your trigger is not chosen and you think it is too brilliant not to be chosen, you will send it in again the next week.
you will write an anecdote, short story, song or novel length prose poem using the trigger provided.
you will add comments and appropriate linkage to my trigger-post indicating your desire to participate and the completion of your piece (don't need a blogger/gmail account to comment on my blog).
you may join in at any time prior to deadline.*
you will display your piece as a post on your own blog (or as a comment on my trigger-post or fasbook note or whaever, once we can all read it- please make sure we can all access the link to read it, not just those who are your friends on fasbook; there's a way to create public links for that, right?).
you will be done by monday noon trinbago timezone.*[in light of collective busyness and my general mentality, i not pressed about these deadlines 'cause i'd rather have fun reading late than never, so if you want to fff past deadline, go through hard, just make sure you comment on the appropriate trigger-post so we know which it belongs to, and if is a real old trigger, comment on the most recent post as well so we know something new to back-back+read...if nobody fffs i'll leave the same trigger up until at least 1person other than myself writes a piece]*
write fresh!
walk good.

1 Comments:

Blogger sweet trini said...

done+posted@ http://urbanfolktales.blogspot.com/2015/06/flash-fiction-friday-60.html
walk good

9:19 p.m.  

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Thursday, June 18, 2015

fff#59

hadda admit, i quite like my flash fiction friday #59; [inclusions]trigger: machine, concentrate, alone, astray

coming from behind i pass a baldhead black fella precariously dangling the longest ash i ever see, singing rihanna bitch better have my money hard hard, word for word, full-on chicken-neck and ducklips pouting around the butt, clearly forgetting he in the car and not his bedroom. i let my grin escape the confines of propriety the same moment my stride and his neckswivel make we eyes make 4 and i hastily drop with mine to the pavement, slightly amazed i can even smile right now, mess that i am, girl undone, led astray, ruined…
…concentrate on the task at hand: straight to the parlour, hot guinness, as instructed; handle the part that is yours…he shoulda talk to his cousin by now, ent; call? you mad?! he mad? of course! who wouldn’t be?
as if beckoned by my interior commess…pathetic fallacy, ent? just learn that the other day; but maybe is only for weather…the road penetrates, way more pong than necessary for the hour; afternoon rush, allyuh eh tired?! i suddenly aware how exposed i am out here, walking, the only one alone; other uniforms clutter the pavement in groups but i am the only one in mine; we don’t lime in the road in our uniform after school. steups. watch me get ketch stupid stupid out here now…and i supposed to be scholarship material?! although, in my defense, my plan didn’ include change of clothes because when we was done i was jumping straight in a car right outside his door and getting out on my streetcorner; hot guinness wasn’ on my itinerary…shit…call, boy? he’ll be more upset to hear my voice asking if he ok or more upset if i doh check? wait until i drink it and reassure him i had the hot guinness? right now he could even worry about breaking inside, with a bus’ frenulum? well, at least he know i eh lie ‘bout being a virgin…but look how whole time i pray for deus ex machina to rid me of him after he rid me of cherry i didn’ really think it could happen…who coulda predict tearing that?! and all i know is, now i doh hadda study he coming ‘round again, and no mess that shower didn’ fix…

walk good.

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Friday, June 12, 2015

flash fiction friday #59

flash fiction friday #59; [inclusions]trigger: machine, concentrate, alone, astray

rules of engagement:
you will send in your suggestions for flash fiction friday triggers (starter sentences/phrases, closers, titles, inclusions, structural challenges, etc.) anytime during the week up to 11.55a.m. friday, trinbago timezone; i will post the new fff trigger by noon friday trinbago timezone.*
if your trigger is not chosen and you think it is too brilliant not to be chosen, you will send it in again the next week.
you will write an anecdote, short story, song or novel length prose poem using the trigger provided.
you will add comments and appropriate linkage to my trigger-post indicating your desire to participate and the completion of your piece (don't need a blogger/gmail account to comment on my blog).
you may join in at any time prior to deadline.*
you will display your piece as a post on your own blog (or as a comment on my trigger-post or fasbook note or whaever, once we can all read it- please make sure we can all access the link to read it, not just those who are your friends on fasbook; there's a way to create public links for that, right?).
you will be done by monday noon trinbago timezone.*[in light of collective busyness and my general mentality, i not pressed about these deadlines 'cause i'd rather have fun reading late than never, so if you want to fff past deadline, go through hard, just make sure you comment on the appropriate trigger-post so we know which it belongs to, and if is a real old trigger, comment on the most recent post as well so we know something new to back-back+read...if nobody fffs i'll leave the same trigger up until at least 1person other than myself writes a piece]*
write fresh!
walk good.

1 Comments:

Blogger sweet trini said...

done+posted@ http://urbanfolktales.blogspot.com/2015/06/fff59.html
walk good.

5:22 p.m.  

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Thursday, June 11, 2015

writings+readings+tings

cyah keep sitting on good ting to share just because i eh making time to be as discerning as i desire in the process, so again, hasty wash-foot and jump eeen...
still eh sure, after several rereads, what exactly it is i like about this story (but apparently i do) the human phonograph by jonathan tel.
this, i know i like, just now getting to it because, life; stumbled across+shared 1 of matt getty's stories the other day and he came by+commented so i went to actually check him out and fell for another of his stories [linking you to his actual website this rounds] she falls down.
this story is somehow an unexpected loveliness, even on multiple rereads, the ironworkers' hayride by robert olen butler.
and carol emshwiller's mrs.jones a different kinna delight...
and again, with cat rambo's magnificent pigs.
this video, a gift from my macomere; i sure i supposed to be offended by its commentary on how women viewed under the male gaze+etc. but it too true (of how minds can be) to not be absolutely hilarious to me...watch is tropical's "dancing anymore" before i spoil the surprise with words to help my archiving it...like masturbation+house-porn...
and as we talk archives, yao ramesar (whose upcoming last dance of the karaoke king i am fully determined to be in, and have thus already informed him thusly) [film]documents (about halfhour) dying elements of trinidad's traditional mas (bat, minstrel, black indian [with speech]).
and closing with more for the archives, some of trinidad's current music scene as seen+heard+documented by gira latina; loving mungal patesar+pantar around 8minutes (always love me some mungal!) and the amazing robert munro to close later, playing that cuattro straight into the core of me...

walk good.

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Tuesday, June 09, 2015

fff#58

my flash fiction friday #58: coffee, picture, write, cream[s/y/etc.]

inhale, slow, exhale, slow, inhale, slow, exhale, slow, inhale, slow, exhale, slow...trying to drink fast but not burn any part of my mouth, i wonder how much my breath…inhale, slow, exhale, slow, inhale, slow, exhale, slow…barely making it across the entire surface, could possibly be cooling the dark liquid…inhale, slow, exhale, slow, inhale, slow, exhale, slow…especially as tipping the cup to drink must bring some…inhale, slow, exhale, slow…unbreathed-upon…inhale, slow, exhale, slow…sloshing up from below to surprise my lips and tip of my tongue…inhale, slow, exhale, slow…too besides, my breath particularly scanty right now…inhale, exhale…right now the air i expel lacking both quantity+power…inhale, exhale…and its relative oxygen-richness doh help with temperature, far as i know…inhale, exhale…hence the black coffee in the 1st place, is not like tha’s my usual style; i like my cream+sugar, yes…inhale, exhale…i suppose is granny have me so…inhale, exhale…but wait, our interior body temperature not nearly boiling point anyway? why we’s feel blowing on something could cool it down again? inhale, exhale…admittedly, less steam rising into my nostrils now, sooo…inhale…smells so good…exhale…inhale…better than it taste, for damn sure…exhale, inhale…wonder why black coffee supposed to help an asthma attack…well, how, i suppose, is how it help…some kinna chemical reaction something? caffeine? riiight…caffeine, because coke supposed to work too…dark matters, dread…wait, breathing good again there? gosh yes, thank…but wait…because of gran my introduction to coffee had milk…oh shit! all these years i picturing coffee-coloured skin looking like latte when alla these writers mean something totally different...what the…well, shit…how much else i getting wrong?!

walk good.

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Friday, June 05, 2015

flash fiction friday #58

flash fiction friday #58; [inclusions]trigger: coffee, picture, write, cream[s/y/ier/iest/etc. if needed]

rules of engagement:
you will send in your suggestions for flash fiction friday triggers (starter sentences/phrases, closers, titles, inclusions, structural challenges, etc.) anytime during the week up to 11.55a.m. friday, trinbago timezone; i will post the new fff trigger by noon friday trinbago timezone.*
if your trigger is not chosen and you think it is too brilliant not to be chosen, you will send it in again the next week.
you will write an anecdote, short story, song or novel length prose poem using the trigger provided.
you will add comments and appropriate linkage to my trigger-post indicating your desire to participate and the completion of your piece (don't need a blogger/gmail account to comment on my blog).
you may join in at any time prior to deadline.*
you will display your piece as a post on your own blog (or as a comment on my trigger-post or fasbook note or whaever, once we can all read it- please make sure we can all access the link to read it, not just those who are your friends on fasbook; there's a way to create public links for that, right?).
you will be done by monday noon trinbago timezone.*[in light of collective busyness and my general mentality, i not pressed about these deadlines 'cause i'd rather have fun reading late than never, so if you want to fff past deadline, go through hard, just make sure you comment on the appropriate trigger-post so we know which it belongs to, and if is a real old trigger, comment on the most recent post as well so we know something new to back-back+read...if nobody fffs i'll leave the same trigger up until at least 1person other than myself writes a piece]*
write fresh!
walk good.

1 Comments:

Blogger sweet trini said...

done+posted@ http://urbanfolktales.blogspot.com/2015/06/fff58.html
walk good.

3:40 p.m.  

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Tuesday, June 02, 2015

fff#57

before story, just hadda say, these fffs been very useful for me as i try to finish diablesse diaries, and i real glad allyuh public-demanded i set it up again, so thanks for this flash fiction friday #57; trigger: …moments [that] amount to nothing momentous…

this year’s resolution: to die.
and this place will never know wha’ it gain through my loss.
they say it cyah be done. and plus nobody ever want to doublecross bois. but this cycle must stop because if i doh break it, it go break me.
you would think in making something like me, bois would have the sense to twist my insides too, render me unfeeling except for the child i must make. and i assumed he did, until i find myself falling, falling, falling…
he was supposed to be another conquest like the rest: engage, lead astray, fuck, send mad+abandon to his death, pray to the forest night for fertilisation; rinse+repeat, if no. instead i find myself not doing the deed i know is mine, stealing time with the walking dead desperately wanting to enjoy him longer, anything for a little more time…
3months later i still stalling+falling deeper+deeper, my blood singing+calling his name into the night, maybe into bois’ ear…i fear for my love’s immortal soul if bois hear i protecting a mark…but this man different; he had the look, the scent, but not the mind of the kinna man i am tasked with culling. when i make him out in the dance that night i make my usual spell and he come straight to my side; it eh decades i doing this and i doh miss…but this man bring a different spirit, not the usual brand of asshole…he talk me into talking and when later i coax him into walking me home i know i will not take him that night.
i don’t take him the nex’ night neither, nor the next.
nights become weeks become months and i become weak with hunger because i cannot consume another while i keep him. serial monogamy comes with the hoof; my condition allows me to take only one at a time and use each [one] only once, impregnated or not. until i consume him i starve both desire+obsession, but he feed something i didn’ know still grew in me…i know i was attempting the impossible, the undead cannot love the living, and live flesh recoils from death; my true face cyah stay hidden forever…
but still, months make me comfortable pretending i am not what i am and when he slide his hands up under my skirts i was sitting wide open, no spell holding him to boundaries i should know better than to let lapse. he was just being affectionate and the lightness of his touch take a moment to register the animal nature of the altar he crouch to worship but as i see it dawn on him what he groping i do the unthinkable, and tell him. everything. what i am, why he still here, how i feel and who i fear…
and he pull back and watch me tell him, listening but barely hearing, shock blocking the weight of my words.
and i know it was impossible when he hold my hands, still on his knees, and tell me if he alive because i love him too much to let my actions run their course, that love mean we can be together. absurd, all the hours we spend, back+forth through the night…love doh make me not what i am. what does? then give the obsession what it crave. we make a child together and raise our child together and i will cease to be what i have been…but i allow myself to believe when he come into me as the hours for my kind dissipating, sun rising to light the 1st+last man to bare my flank, and he touch me and show me he want to love me, prepared to take me as i am, and i feel him move deep inside me and for the 1st time in centuries that sensation doh come with an equally deep flash of hatred.
when i eventually sleep i expect to wake to a new world, not an empty bed. but when i see the note i know is my fault for not knowing better.
i’m sorry. i can’t.
no “love”.
i don’t even remember to check myself in the days after; too weak to hunt, i do nothing but cry+sleep+eat until i feel strong enough to talk to the night again. i hear story on the breeze of him pacing streets of port of spain talking to himself, progressively dirtier, stranger, not recognising friends+family who try to intervene, to carry him home; the irony doesn’t escape me. is that make me realise it happen, my love left his promise fulfilled…
the world is its usual circus but as they navigate hangovers and remembering to write the new date, i considering i have less than 9months now, and this is my only chance. if diablesse exists solely to conceive and bear the child she so covet, then i will make this baby, to sacrifice to the forest night, and when i out her little light, these infinite moments that amount to nothing momentous can finally, finally, end.

walk good.

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Friday, May 29, 2015

flash fiction friday #57

flash fiction friday #57; [inclusion]trigger: ...moments [that] amount to nothing momentous...
["that" for use if necessary to facilitate voice/syntax; feel free to disregard if no structural necessity]

rules of engagement:
you will send in your suggestions for flash fiction friday triggers (starter sentences/phrases, closers, titles, inclusions, structural challenges, etc.) anytime during the week up to 11.55a.m. friday, trinbago timezone; i will post the new fff trigger by noon friday trinbago timezone.*
if your trigger is not chosen and you think it is too brilliant not to be chosen, you will send it in again the next week.
you will write an anecdote, short story, song or novel length prose poem using the trigger provided.
you will add comments and appropriate linkage to my trigger-post indicating your desire to participate and the completion of your piece (don't need a blogger/gmail account to comment on my blog).
you may join in at any time prior to deadline.*
you will display your piece as a post on your own blog (or as a comment on my trigger-post or fasbook note or whaever, once we can all read it- please make sure we can all access the link to read it, not just those who are your friends on fasbook; there's a way to create public links for that, right?).
you will be done by monday noon trinbago timezone.*[in light of collective busyness and my general mentality, i not pressed about these deadlines 'cause i'd rather have fun reading late than never, so if you want to fff past deadline, go through hard, just make sure you comment on the appropriate trigger-post so we know which it belongs to, and if is a real old trigger, comment on the most recent post as well so we know something new to back-back+read...if nobody fffs i'll leave the same trigger up until at least 1person other than myself writes a piece]*
write fresh!
walk good.

1 Comments:

Blogger sweet trini said...

done+posted@ http://urbanfolktales.blogspot.com/2015/06/fff57.html
walk good.

1:23 p.m.  

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Thursday, May 28, 2015

links+thinks

like i say (and like i also say often, lately, some of these links months old, but ideas still fresh):
purely selfish; i need to be able to find this again, on how to make edible+stackable lego gummies.
for everybody, a view of whole sexual anatomy, starting with the brain and following with solid science about aaalll the parts [aaalllthe parts!!! even the ones you didn' know could do tings] and what they about.
anthony howe's gorgeous moving kinetic sculptures are fascinating, managing to look like something from nature, and alien, at the same time...
einstein+tagore discuss the nature of reality...
definitely to be findable for future reference, how to delete your google history.
on corruption+culture; not exactly us here in sweet t+t[afra raymond, embedded] but valuable lessons for us (and others) still.
and a piece of trini history, unearthed, under the red house, no less! archaeological remains of saladoid peoples, theories surrounding them and the place+time...
heartbreaking read, kelly sundberg's it will look like a sunset.
and even more heartbreaking and incalculably more beautiful read, possibly the most heartbreaking+beautiful i read for the year, lesley nneka arimah's light.
plus 1st glorious aerial photos of cuba!
and closing with a video i loving not just because the track is an alltime favourite but because this chick delivering lyrics in signlanguage mashing up, reminding me of a good friend of mine i miss terribly, plus she reminds me of the translation battles i wish i could jump up in and sends my mind spinning in a few directions i liking..enjoy...

walk good.

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Tuesday, May 26, 2015

fff#56

my attempt@ flash fiction friday #56; [inclusions]trigger: stay, kept, left, right, wrong

one in front the other, ripples of pain spreading outward from nosebridge across cheekbones, up temples+forehead, infiltrating hairline and washing over+through your entire brain each time your foot strike ground, left, like your heel smashing against your head insteada road, right, reverberating inside your thumping skull, left…keep moving, pushing through the thudding+echoing pain, forward, onward, go…
you eh know how long you walking, running, dragging, where you are anymore, just that you past where you were and must keep going for the smell of home to soothe this headache. the acrid air haunting your nostrils slowly give way to the thick, clinging scent of overripe mangoes, until forced to give way to the dry smoke and fluttering ash of bushfire. you keep going, trying not to think about what you leaving; there was no way to stay. once suspicion set in, mistrust follow, and your secrets cyah be kept for long. any man boldface enough or just wild enough to snatch at you without your come-hither setting up interaction could expose all your business with a flick of his wrist. your skirts and combined powers of selection+illusion are all that keep your truth hidden enough to make continued existence possible.
chief making geera this morning, far in the distance of the smellscape, but inescapable still. keep moving. more bushfire. eventually, a waft of mangoes again, then citrus, and you know you can autopilot the rest. tortuga not exactly close, but estate easy to sniff out for somebody like you who know the place before it had anything besides estate.
nex’ time you’ll be more careful; cyah get too comfortable, clearly; when las’ you misjudge and call-hither the wrong one? you supposed to be better than that, out here too long to mistakenly pick man already too overripe to eat…

walk good.

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Friday, May 22, 2015

flash fiction friday #56

slightly late but nowhere near as bad as we know trini-time could be...flash fiction friday #56; [inclusions]trigger: stay, kept, left, right, wrong

rules of engagement:
you will send in your suggestions for flash fiction friday triggers (starter sentences/phrases, closers, titles, inclusions, structural challenges, etc.) anytime during the week up to 11.55a.m. friday, trinbago timezone; i will post the new fff trigger by noon friday trinbago timezone.*
if your trigger is not chosen and you think it is too brilliant not to be chosen, you will send it in again the next week.
you will write an anecdote, short story, song or novel length prose poem using the trigger provided.
you will add comments and appropriate linkage to my trigger-post indicating your desire to participate and the completion of your piece (don't need a blogger/gmail account to comment on my blog).you may join in at any time prior to deadline.*
you will display your piece as a post on your own blog (or as a comment on my trigger-post or fasbook note or whaever, once we can all read it- please make sure we can all access the link to read it, not just those who are your friends on fasbook; there's a way to create public links for that, right?).
you will be done by monday noon trinbago timezone.*[in light of collective busyness and my general mentality, i not pressed about these deadlines 'cause i'd rather have fun reading late than never, so if you want to fff past deadline, go through hard, just make sure you comment on the appropriate trigger-post so we know which it belongs to, and if is a real old trigger, comment on the most recent post as well so we know something new to back-back+read...if nobody fffs i'll leave the same trigger up until at least 1person other than myself writes a piece]*
write fresh!
walk good.

1 Comments:

Blogger sweet trini said...

done+posted@ http://urbanfolktales.blogspot.com/2015/05/fff56.html
walk good.

7:59 a.m.  

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Wednesday, May 20, 2015

links spinning for months+months now...

plenty links because i lapsing since year start, backlog eh fully cleared since i was still awaiting new machine so extra words@minimum this rounds; archive+share, 1time:
not actually sure how i feel about this, but leaving the dildo of your partner's ashes right here for future reference, just in case...
hilarious[+interesting!] miles davis blindfold tests [and, of course i substituted 1+2@url to read the rest].
5 literary art projects with delightful results; gorgeous illustrations of finnegan's wake, moby dick, et al.
was thinking meself about why so many so quick to claim "(slight) ocd" for behaviour simply anal-retentive or perfectionist; this gives a more accurate picture of why much of that is wrong, and frustrating for those who actually do battle ocd.
ting to read, the inimitable martin "mice" raymond's comparison of contemporary carnival bands with a tight historical intro.
the more you know...correlation between lead levels and violence+crime, with handy nb about how much lead remains in our immediate ecosystem today in spite of unleaded gas and paint...
and yes, the more you know and all, but this i post as a reminder of how fucked up people truly are, with the clear warning that you may not want to know these details of the cia torture report's grisliest findings...
a good, clear and truly useful bicycle-analogy for race/privilege, since conversations seem eternally fraught...
and now badness aside, warming up the eyes because i closing with videos, great shots of some wonderfully curvy women.
1st funny

then funny froggies

then the amazing baryshnikov+buck for rag+bone

walk good.

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Tuesday, May 19, 2015

letter to a hopeful artist; written for me!

this is an open letter a theatre practitioner i love+respect wrote me and publicly posted after a performance we did together las' year; been meaning to repost here, not to brag, but so that on the days i feel listless, uninspired, uncreative, untalented, i can be reminded that i am capable of great things and make meself get back up+make/art/wuk...so, for those[me] who sometimes[often] need reminding that what we do is worthwhile+appreciated,

OPEN LETTER TO ELISHA EFUA BARTELS as MEDEA
in the Trinidad Theatre Workshop TTW staged reading of:
CARNIVAL MEDEA : A Bacchanal
by
Rhoma Spencer and Shirlene Holmes
Adapted from the Euripides Tragedy

That you, Bartels Efua Elisha, should have risen so gloriously, like a full moon in Petit Carême season, cannot be lightly considered.

That you brought with your sudden, much-needed arrival in Rhoma's production, the political attributes of a Walcott-trained thespian dispensing concision and impromptuality - Medea-style - even before you subsumed yourself into the sacrificial role, attests to your dignified understanding of your own personal weddinged pain and your carefully-nurtured, experiential collection of a Caribbean-styled Aristotelian theatre at its best.

Peradventure, to say your personal presentation of Medea was "Wonderful!" is a politically-distracting understatement - an inverted euphemism of sorts - that lends artificial credibility to the sacredness of what can be only equated to your soulful offertory of a holy and religiously-ecstatic portrayal of a practiced Bunraku artist. The Japanese would snap you up in a second...despite their gendered preference!!!

Would that you continue to present yourself as Peter Brook's empty space while "crossing the abyss on a tightrope...!"

I have become languid of the kitchen-sink dramatists of recent vintage and had surrendered my carefully-honed artistic sensibilities back to their original muse... but last night... they were resurrected!!... by your touching, sensitive kaleidscopic painting, of a classic tragic heroine named Medea, on the canvas of my mind.

For that, I celebrate you and pronounce your name publicly. Continue the greatness, chile!

Love, Strength and Powers!!!

Che Rodriguez.

walk good.

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Monday, May 18, 2015

fff#55

my flash fiction friday #55; starter-trigger:

the problem with flowers is they don’t actually eliminate smell, are at best merely a mask, and as olfactory ruse, weak. so in spite of the many roses you thought to bring, the scent is still like a velvet-cushioned bag of bricks to the head upon entry and sticks in your nostrils like an umbrella was inserted+opened behind it. roses still sweet+earthy as ever, but playing accessory to the crime starring the scent of dead; in their current supporting-cast context, synecdoche for your entire garden, carefully cultivated for nobody to appreciate. your mind thought it was prepared. it was wrong. you were wrong.
roses grow into vines and spiral from the tangle clutched in your hands out+around your head, crown dethorned as you plucked them, the most time you had ever spent attending to individual plants, using the time to gather yourself for the scene you knew you would enter.
the roses keep growing, crown creeping back down to your shoulderblades and planting itself, then spreading upward+outward, feathers of petals whispering at your shoulders and beyond them, attar fanning into the airwaves over your love as your new-formed wings rustle, then stretch, then beat gently, once, twice, 3times, and lift you easily up+away from the end of the one person you ever thought loved you.

walk good.

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Friday, May 15, 2015

flash fiction friday #55

on time this time, with hopes for my actual story's timeliness too, so, without further ado, flash fiction friday #55 trigger: the problem with flowers is...

rules of engagement:
you will send in your suggestions for flash fiction friday triggers (starter sentences/phrases, closers, titles, inclusions, structural challenges, etc.) anytime during the week up to 11.55a.m. friday, trinbago timezone; i will post the new fff trigger by noon friday trinbago timezone.*
if your trigger is not chosen and you think it is too brilliant not to be chosen, you will send it in again the next week.
you will write an anecdote, short story, song or novel length prose poem using the trigger provided.
you will add comments and appropriate linkage to my trigger-post indicating your desire to participate and the completion of your piece (don't need a blogger/gmail account to comment on my blog).
you may join in at any time prior to deadline.*
you will display your piece as a post on your own blog (or as a comment on my trigger-post or fasbook note or whaever, once we can all read it- please make sure we can all access the link to read it, not just those who are your friends on fasbook; there's a way to create public links for that, right?).
you will be done by monday noon trinbago timezone.*[in light of collective busyness and my general mentality, i not pressed about these deadlines 'cause i'd rather have fun reading late than never, so if you want to fff past deadline, go through hard, just make sure you comment on the appropriate trigger-post so we know which it belongs to, and if is a real old trigger, comment on the most recent post as well so we know something new to back-back+read...if nobody fffs i'll leave the same trigger up until at least 1person other than myself writes a piece]*
write fresh!
walk good.

1 Comments:

Blogger sweet trini said...

done+posted@ http://urbanfolktales.blogspot.com/2015/05/fff55.html
walk good.

5:33 p.m.  

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Thursday, May 14, 2015

fff#54

as ridiculously late as the trigger was, my flash fiction friday #54; [inclusions]trigger: ring, fling, sing, string

sometimes, you die
and don’t know why
or how
or who
just that there is a hole
where your insides should be
and you empty
unexpectedly
a fling now unflung
navelstring unstrung
abruptly done
no fizzle
no fete
nor parting ways satisfied, conditions well met
instead an ambush split you wide open
ears ringing
blood singing
you try not to fall into a million pieces
and fall into a black hole instead.

walk good.

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Friday, May 08, 2015

flash fiction friday #54

ridiculously late, i know, i sorry; but i never fail you yet, ent...flash fiction friday #54; [inclusions]trigger: ring, fling, sing, string

rules of engagement:
you will send in your suggestions for flash fiction friday triggers (starter sentences/phrases, closers, titles, inclusions, structural challenges, etc.) anytime during the week up to 11.55a.m. friday, trinbago timezone; i will post the new fff trigger by noon friday trinbago timezone.*
if your trigger is not chosen and you think it is too brilliant not to be chosen, you will send it in again the next week.
you will write an anecdote, short story, song or novel length prose poem using the trigger provided.
you will add comments and appropriate linkage to my trigger-post indicating your desire to participate and the completion of your piece (don't need a blogger/gmail account to comment on my blog).
you may join in at any time prior to deadline.*
you will display your piece as a post on your own blog (or as a comment on my trigger-post or fasbook note or whaever, once we can all read it- please make sure we can all access the link to read it, not just those who are your friends on fasbook; there's a way to create public links for that, right?).
you will be done by monday noon trinbago timezone.*[in light of collective busyness and my general mentality, i not pressed about these deadlines 'cause i'd rather have fun reading late than never, so if you want to fff past deadline, go through hard, just make sure you comment on the appropriate trigger-post so we know which it belongs to, and if is a real old trigger, comment on the most recent post as well so we know something new to back-back+read...if nobody fffs i'll leave the same trigger up until at least 1person other than myself writes a piece]*
write fresh!
walk good.

1 Comments:

Blogger sweet trini said...

almost forget to say, done+posted@ http://urbanfolktales.blogspot.com/2015/05/fff54.html
walk good.

4:34 a.m.  

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Monday, May 04, 2015

fff#53

this week i actually, magically, finish writing my fff before deadline[!] but lack of internet access to check a single detail and then post, mean it only now going up. but still, close to deadline, allyuh! flash fiction friday #53 trigger: …if nobody ever understands, you give up trying to explain…

fire? smoke, almost definitely, but…
fire?
nostrils burning but instinctively flaring as my brain struggle to make sense of the invisible alarm, i turn, slowly, half-expecting to find everything behind me somehow silently, coolly, ablaze.
still no sign but the unmistakeable smell. i finish my rotation, circling back to see the rabbit, waiting. nose twitching and everything. extremely rabbity.
his voice is nothing like i expect, a velvet hammer all out of proportion with his size, a not-even-full-grown rabbit with a voice so big if it weren’t cushioned by bass it’d be terrifying…at least, as terrifying as a fluffy brown bunny could be.
i feel vaguely like i should be more surprised, but i wonder about the quality of his voice just day before when he saunter into the yard as i was doing a final polish and decide to read it to him; he listen hard, smile+wink at me before he stretch backward, rearing up on his hind legs, baring his jaws, oddly like a cat, just like the thundercats logo in fact, then hop over to the nex’ clump of grass in the driveway…
what the rabbit actually saying finally start to penetrate and i remember the smell of smoke. i forget myself completely, walk out my house naked as i born, down the road, and lean on the neighbour doorbell knowing how hard mrs.bridgemohan does sleep.
to this day nobody believe how i know to go and wake she that night, and if nobody ever understand[s], you give up trying to explain them how truth stranger than fiction. but all mrs.bridgemohan lose was the back room of the house insteada she life.
nex’ day everybody who play 2 and 23 mark win.
i eventually just start saying “i had a dream”…it was easier for everybody to hear.

walk good.

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