I didn't recognize the movie from what you wrote but as soon as I looked at the clip, I remembered how heart wrenching that scene was. Tom Hanks did such an amazing job as Forrest.
This is very creative Joy. Gloomy, and rings my alarm bells, I feel as if I am reading a prophecy. Your timing, just after Halloween and before the 2024 USA presidential election, makes this entry exceptional.
I can almost smell the bonfires somewhere from my ancient past, or did I taste the hollowed turnip bits in my soup?
I recall untouched plates at the table as people remembered, fondly, the dearly departed.
Joy Oct 31, 2024 at 1:40pm In response to "The Unseen"
AnotherDreamer Yup, you do have a fancy active imagination. I can also imagine, since there is that idea of other lives we might have had, what if they all got jumbled up with all the old, young and middle times, in between! Now, that's something that tests my imagination. Lol!
Lyn's a Witchy Woman All that dust in the air, where you are, would sure do me in with my allergies and such. And yes, love doesn't have to be seen to be felt.
Kåre เลียม Enga We writers have to hide behind our words, it seems to me. Otherwise, we wouldn't be writers or our writing would lack conviction.
Then, I think sometimes, and only sometimes, I can pick up cues from reading faces, but I never trust myself with it. I have to know a person for a while to be sure. Great if you can pick cues when looking at a person for the first time, though!
I can imagine what it would be like if gravity went haywire. We all became slugs and could barely move because gravity was too heavy. Or we've float and some of us learned to fly. But time” going haywire?” That’s something I can't quite wrap my head around. So, say I'm a baby in a cradle and the next minute I'm an old lady rocking a chair, and then I'm back to a teenager and then I'm back to an old lady in a chair. I don't know, I just it just seems hard to imagine. I suppose it's possible…..b…u…t????
One cannot see the wind unless it's mixed with something solid... like the neighbor's roof. Mostly we feel the wind when it touches us and moves things around.
We can see smiles and learn to differentiate between authentic smiles and those that don't reach the eyes. People who cannot read faces are "blind". I'm not always good at picking up cues.
Social media distances us as those cues can be hidden or non-existent.
Even here, people hide behind words. Blog entries can be cerebral or based on external forces. Some writers are an enigma, purposely obscuring who they are.
I'm not eloquent today... but... you've read my blog or my comments or my rants. You have an idea of who I am. You'd know if something were drastically wrong.
Prompt:
Take any cliche and subvert it to bring it alive again in a poem or a blog entry.
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Bag of Bones
They said, "This baby, a bag of bones!"
and rattled, "She may not even throw stones"
a bag of bones, where my shadow lies
World War II, macabre with gray skies.
But dreams I've built and spells I've cast,
I charted my course, battled the past.
Alas, today, other lines are drawn,
fears of war wail from dusk to dawn.
Although people speak in whispers low,
in death's embrace, demons can grow.
So, this bag of bones sways and waits...
as, just one click, next war dictates.
Such a shame it is, to undo the seams!
Or let's mend the world, guard our dreams?
I hold my breath and hear the moans
and warnings from all bags of bones.
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