Tag Archives: Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie

Butterfly Effect Florette

whispering soft on fragrant swells,
a story only you can tell
amidst the chaos don’t ask why
but rise above, to the heights fly where condors dwell

though some may try to hold you here
don’t listen to their hopeless fear;
the universe has other plans
a shift in time, the fates be damned,
makes all things clear

yield to the metamorphosis
existence grounded, sands to sift;
flee the chrysalis’ slumb’ring keep
lasso the whirlwind’s swirling sweep to find your bliss


A proper Florette* for Mind Love Misery’s Menagerie’s Sunday Writing Prompt: Butterfly Effect.

The Florette, created by Jan Turner, consists of two or more 4-line stanzas.
Rhyme scheme: a,a,b,a
Meter: 8,8,8,12
Fourth line requirement of internal (b) rhyme scheme, on syllable 8.

Core Beliefs – MLMM Sunday Writing Challenge


“Everyone is entitled to their own opinion.” Of course this is true and reasonable, allowing us to agree to disagree in many cases, while still respecting the person holding said opinion.

Except…(Now if you are thinking, here comes the “but” you would be right. This is a very big BUT!)…except when opinions are touted as absolute, unwavering truth, despite known indisputable facts to the contrary, I am afraid I cannot agree to disagree, and I most certainly cannot respect people who hold these erroneous opinions. That is the rub, isn’t it? It is why we can’t get along anymore. It is why our society is so polarized and fractured.

The opinionated for opinion’s sake will often say, “It’s impossible to know the truth anymore, anyway.” It is tricky, I’ll give you that, especially in this age of special interest-influenced news outlets and hostile other-government attacks on us through social media, as well as our softening aversion to lies and alternative facts. It is especially troublesome in this age where winning elections for power rather than for service’s sake is the modus operandi of our politics; where facts are inconvenient truths that must be obstructed.

I have decided I will not have opinions anymore. I know I am entitled to them. That’s not the point. Opinions are rubbish if they are not informed by truth, (in my opinion of course) and since we are living in a time of open season on the truth, it is best to keep any opinions I might have, even though I am now loath to have them, to myself.

It goes without saying that I would appreciate others keeping their opinions to themselves as well. If I want someone’s opinion, I will certainly ask for it. In other words, I won’t be asking for it. As for the truth, I don’t particularly care to know that either. Truth in the absolute sense is dead. It can’t be trusted. Which creeps into a new category…faith.

Let’s not go there. Let’s just not.

Oh no you didn’t…
how do you do it, straight-faced,
believe in the lie?


This Haibun for MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie Sunday Writing Prompt: For this challenge I want you to examine one of your core beliefs.

The Man Who Talks to Walls


Wailing Wall from Wikipedia

People from miles around gathered at the wall. For centuries it had heard their fears, their hopes, their dreams. For centuries it had collected messages and prayers scribbled on scraps of paper and stuffed into its crumbling facade. Some people were true believers in the wall and its power to pass their intentions to the One who listens. Some thought it nothing more than a novelty, a tourist destination, a photo op.

Cyrus was one of the latter. He lived near the wall and hated it. He often laughed at the pilgrims, ‘emotional fools’, he called them, shouting at them from his doorway, “It’s a wall you know! You’re talking to a stupid wall! Can’t you see how crazy that is? Stupid wall…stupid, stupid wall!”

But early every morning, when the streets were empty Cyrus would shuffle over to the wall; to the very same spot each time. He reached into a paper-laden crack and gently removed a folded yellow note, dropped to the ground, tears flooding the corners of his eyes as he read the child-like scrawl fading on the page.

Please don’t take my mommy God. I need her.

Days after young Cyrus had written that note, his mother succumbed to illness. That was the day Cyrus stopped believing in the wall; in anything for that matter. He felt oddly comforted when he read the note though. Memories of his mother flooded his mind. As painful as it was, he couldn’t stay away.

Year’s passed and it was Cyrus’ time to leave this world. As he closed his eyes, weary from a life of pain and disappointment, he started to feel lighter. His soul rose above his body and drifted through the door of his house and over to the wall where his mother stood waiting for him, holding the yellow note in her hand.

“Momma? Momma, why did God take you away from me?”

“Oh Cyrus, I never left. Don’t you know that every time you came to the wall to read your note, I was right there, holding you. Reminding you of how much I loved you. Did you feel it Cyrus?”

“I did. Yes, I did feel you each time as lovely memories filled my head. That was you?”

“Yes. The wall and your note kept me close to you. Now you and I can both find rest and peace. Are you ready Cyrus?

“Yes. I’m ready,” Cyrus whispered as he took his mother’s hand. Together they drifted through the wall into the starry night sky.

The wall moaned and shuddered as another breach ripped its ancient stone face bottom to top creating another portal for notes from those seeking miracles and little boys, orphaned too soon.


For MindLoveMisery’sMenagerie Sunday Writing Prompt. This week: “It’s All in the Title” – Use one or more of the titles below to compose a song/story/poem:

A Girl Called Gift
A Night Without Dreams
The Day the Stars Burned
Sleep Deprivation
The Mulberry Bush
A Disquieting Haze
A Vision in Blue
The Man Who Talks to Walls
The Fairy Queen

Sorry…Not Sorry – A Rant

A rant, as requested for Mindlovemiserysmenagerie’s Sunday Writing Prompt. Interesting prompt this week MLMM. Normally I would apologize for ranting, but since you asked…

Sorry…Not Sorry – A Rant

Do I offend you because I speak my mind? Because, in your words, “I care more about my beliefs than I care about you?”

Now you demand an apology and my silence in order to be welcomed back into your presence. Sorry…not sorry.

The truth is, you offend me. You, and your willful aversion to the truth. You and your self-righteous double-life…all love and politeness on the outside while you fester with fear and hatred on the inside.

I guess you thought you had me this time by denying that I existed, by breaking my heart, by disowning me. It had always worked in the past, with me acquiescing to your demands, tiptoeing on eggshells, towing your rigid, unforgiving line, playing by your rules. But I finally realize that nothing I do or don’t do will appease your self-involved, demanding heart.

Once, it didn’t matter to me if I assumed my expected ‘present but silent’, unquestioningly loyal role in your perfect life. But now? Now I see your heart, clear as day, and I am deeply embarrassed, disheartened and disgusted that I allowed myself to be tossed by your whims for so long. 100 “I’m sorry’s” will not make you happy. Not even 1000.

And frankly…can I be frank? Oh what the hell, you’re not listening anyway. I need to sleep each night. I need to live what I believe to be good and compassionate and true. I need to know that I did not sell my soul for the sake of a win.

Even so, I’ll always love you. We are blood, after all, connected by the strands of our DNA, but I’m not going to beg anymore. I happen to like who I am. And I’m learning that liking myself is what matters most of all, even if it means losing you.


Do I feel better? Not really…well, maybe a little, but my heart is still broken. Ranting can’t fix that. 😢💔😢




a dose of
fetish, soul scathing
darkness, charred
ends, shadows
in the cellar…forgotten
people…vile truth


Plucked a few titles to pen this shadorma (3/5/3/3/7/5) for Mind Love Misery’s Menagerie Sunday Writing Prompt. Here is the list of possibilities in case you want to give it a go:

The Vile Truth

Shadows in the Cellar

Frozen Filaments

Inescapable: A Mind without Doors

Soul Scathing Darkness

Wrath of the Dryads

A Dose of Fetish

The Forgotten People

Charred Ends


%d bloggers like this: