Oh my god, you thought I died or something, didn’t you?  Nope.  I’m still alive and kicking, but my wrist did almost fall off this week, and my head did almost explode, and my well-being did fall down a slippery slope, but that’s another story.

And holy batman readers, you’re crawling out of the ethernet just when I disappear for a bit! As Basil Fawlty would say, “Just typical”.

So because I’m lagging behind with all of the 100 Word posts (rules here for you new folks) this is going to be a long post. Once I get up to 10 participants in one week, I’m going to start choosing a top three or something to post in full and provide link love to the others. This week, to make up for my, er, absence, here are all the entries from the last two challenges. You can find many examples of work at EssayMania

Two weeks ago, the challenge was “Hidden”.

“When a thing is funny, search it carefully for a hidden truth.” ~George Bernard Shaw

Secret Agent Mama continues to impress me with her creativity, her honesty, and her heart. If you’re not already a fan of hers, please let me introduce you to her.

Underneath all the years,

The poor choices,

Constant procrastination,

She waits.

The skinny, fit girl,

Who’s often felt but rarely seen,

Waiting to emerge again,

Hopefully.

Blaming her pregnancies,

Was an easy way to deny,

That the damage that has been done,

Is of her own doing.

Her body is getting older,

It’s getting harder to face the facts,

Though one thing’s for certain,

No more carelessness.

She owes it to herself,

To be the best she can be,

Inside and out,

Every breath she takes.

No more will she be hidden.

Come out,

Come out,

Where ever you are.

Lceel, having just returned home from an England tour, entered what he called a “half-assed effort”. I don’t know about the effort, but the result was clear and true.

How do I explore the word ‘hidden’? I ask myself, “What things are hidden?” Treasure. Treasure is hidden, else it is wealth. Motives. Motives are hidden lest we give up advantage. Truth. Truth lies hidden because to tell the truth exposes us to the judgment of others. Meaning. Meaning is obscured for the same reason, for to understand the meaning is to know the truth. Love. Love lies within, in our most secret places, wrapped in layers of obscured meaning, colored truths and camouflaged motives because love is the greatest treasure we own. When we spend it, we are exposed.

Sassy Mama Bear, another poet, joined the challenge for her second week with a piece on pain and secrets we all keep hidden away in our minds.

In the shadows of the mind where secrets often lie,

You may be intrigued by the hidden doors you will spy.

Dare not consider to touch the locks upon any door,

What lies behind, I wish to see no more.

Tucked away in the closets of my mind it should be,

The hurt, the pain, the shame you must not see.

Let the cobwebs take control and hide it all away,

May the memories that haunt never see the light of day.

Fear not that may escape and run free,

Always guarded by my soul and heart they will be.

Methinks the lady Judith Shakespeare doth make us laugh too much!

“Chocolates! It’s not my birthday, you know.”

“I know. I thought I’d do something special for you just because it’s Monday.”

“Oh, honey. These orchids are stunning!”

“…just because it’s Tuesday.”

“Yes, I’d love a back rub! Thank you!”

“…just because it’s Wednesday.”

“Did you clean the kitchen and fold the laundry?”

“…just because it’s Thursday.”

“A real restaurant? The kind that doesn’t offer booster seats? Really?”

“…just because it’s Friday.”

“Thanks for letting me sleep-in, love.”

“…just because it’s Saturday.”

“You know, this has been such a great week! Chocolates, flowers, back rubs…”

“Honey, can I buy a boat?”

Madame Meow was one cool cat with her “Hidden” submission. Do you see it?

However way in which one wants something to be seen, sometimes the only real way

In which one can truly be taken seriously in any absolute situation is a time when they

Deign to remain… unseen. Perhaps it is the quality of the mysterious and the unknown that

Draws the attention of so many. Perhaps it is the nature of the unseen to markedly

Embark on an adventure so great that to reveal it to the unprepared world would be

Not unlike casting pearls among swine. And what a true and great waste and crime that would prove to be.

I might get in trouble for bad words on my blog, but I met my next favorite Mommy Blogger in Mr. Lady. Anyone who names their blog “Whiskey in My Sippy Cup” is good in my book. If you don’t like the bad word, close your eyes, and then go yell at Mr. Lady cause I’ll be having none of it. I already live with two teenagers. I’m long past graduating from whiskey in my sippy cup. I go straight for the bottle now. (Just kidding Mom, no need for an intervention.) Also, make sure you click the link and read the back story on this one.

She sat around a table, sipping on stale coffee, nibbling on whole bran muffins made with applesauce instead of oil. Children squealed somewhere in the distance, but she hardly noticed; she was out, with adults, and she wore the smile that she forgot she had tucked in the back of her jewelery box.

She drew a deep breath, exhaled, and grinned. She finally could relax and just be with these new people in her life. Maybe the sunshine, or her determination, was calming her. Maybe it was just that, this time, she had the sense to wear a fucking cardigan.

Hehe.

Wow! Are you still here? Good, because there’s a whole other round to go. Last week, the challenge was “Spark”. Great word, spark. I always like to pair it with “stomp” in writing and have probably done so ten too many times. At least Woman Remodeled didn’t. But she did use that darn F word again, so now I’m probably going to get a bunch of Google hits for weird porn stuff from a bunch of pervs. Thankfully, I’ve done gone and put up some anti-pornography posts so that should bounce em right out of here. I digress. Here’s WR’s sparky submission!

A spark is something that I had. You have that spark, that something special. It is that jump-start that gets you moving with enthusiasm. It is that drive. It is the sex that you want to constantly have. It is that blind ambition that others envy. It’s fearlessly moving forward and being able to say FUCK IT I DON’T CARE, and really meaning it. It is having a little “Fuck You” in your soul. I had that spark. It is still there, deep inside buried by frustration and perceived struggle. My spark is emerging with the arrival of the future.

A sweet 100 Words on friendship from Secret Agent Mama:

Hey, thanks for meeting me today. This coffee’s good, isn’t it? I did wake up with a headache, but knew that we were going to see each other and it almost instantly cleared. I’ve missed you.

What’s new with me? Everything! Life is good. Sure I don’t have enough money to buy that new pair of shoes, but these shoes I’m wearing are still a good fit.

I know that life can sometimes get away from us, but we need to make more time for our friendship. I miss your spark, your zest, your smile. Let’s do this again. Soon!

Love is like this Sassy Mama Bear, yes it is.

Each morning I watch you, my heart aching as you drive away, turn the corner and start your day. I feel the pain that tears your soul as you face the drudgery, the hypocrisy, and the monotony.

Yet I know when you light that first spark, the metal pooling into a puddle of liquid magic, flowing forth, your eyes brighten, your heart flutters with a hidden passion quite deep. Your hands move the torch and from your actions great, useful things are made. Today it may just be another washer, but tomorrow it will be a work of magnificent art.

Sadie was looking to “spark” her creativity with the 100 Word challenge. Looks like it worked!

A darkened room, a flickering light, a whispered prayer, peace fills my soul. The white, the red, the blue and the green; each flickering along together. I sit and watch, absorb the peace, the few minutes I have on my own. Tomorrow brings more turmoil and upheaval, but tonight is mine.

I picture my family, and my friends, at peace, healthy and near me. Imagery is a powerful tool, and I dream of it working again.

Light dims not with a breath, but a lack of as I snuff out each light by hand. Tonight I will dream in peace.

Talk about spark, this girl’s got it going on! Judith Shakespeare, you are one sassafrass woman. But, I couldn’t get your blog to load! I’ll check back later. For now everyone, here’s the link. (Let me know how it was!)

Lceel, I just want you to know that quoting Joni Mitchell gained you MAJOR bonus points.

He approaches her door, his heart is thumping in his chest, the blood pounding in his head has faded his vision, his hand is trembling in anticipation. He is going to see her. Her touch is enough to make it hard for him to breathe, he grows faint at the slightest whiff of her scent; to kiss her is to suspend time as their lips brush each other, the softness of her expended breath on his lips leaves him unable to move lest he move too far away to feel it. He approaches. He has come to court and spark.

Wow! How about a round of applause for all the 100 Word participants? This week’s challenge is from my friend Laurie Ann Guerrero’s new book, Babies Under the Skin. I invited her to join the 100 Word challenge, but she’s too busy finishing up her next book! Check out a review from Smith College here.

Lips

Hoo boy. I don’t even want to know what Mr. Lady does with that one.

/ Digg this /
Stumble this