Angst of a Writer

I see voices in my head
All talking at once
All wanting attention I cannot give
Imploring
Seeking
Demanding that I write their words
See their pain
Live their joy
Share their journey
So others may enjoy.
Worn down I take my pen
Situate my paper
and listen….
I re-situate my paper
and listen….
Sighing
I lay my pen down
Put my head in my hands
Praying for inspiration
Coherent thought
Help!
Silence ensues
Tension rises
All eyes narrow
Searching
….finding….
Growls of frustration
Words hissed, best not repeated
As over in the corner
In an overstuffed arm chair
Filing her nails
A glass of chardonnay
Box of chocolates
on the table beside her
My muse sits.
The one who translates
Thoughts
Pictures
Into flowing words
Her eyes glued to the TV
Watching Game of Thrones
A grizzly scene
Yet another red wedding
Unfolding
Unawares that in a moment
Fantasy may very well become
Reality

Copyright 2017 Heidi Barnes

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Choices and Balance

In everything, there is a beginning and an end.

Even great mountains rise and fall as time continues to roll on.

Within that time, a delicate balance must be maintained
or all will fall into chaos and ruin.

The universe is no different.

Among the chaos of creation there is still a semblance of balance,
or nothing would be able to form, to grow, to endure.

But what keeps that balance?

Is it divine force, or just chance?

Is it strong and sure,
or just holding on by a thread that is ready to break at any moment?

Do we have centuries, years,
or days before the life we know ends as suddenly as it began?

Is it as simply as a choice between good or evil, right or wrong, love or hate.

Or is it as simple as choosing it embrace both,
because without one the other does not exist.

Copyright 2107 Heidi Barnes

 

A Horde of Five-Year-Olds

Today in 9th grade English class while the kids were working on their poetry, the teacher asked a few of them, what they would do if a horde of five-year-olds were coming at them? Could they defend themselves? I asked him if the District was threatening him with a kindergarten class and he laughed. But my mind started working and this is what I came up with. I’ve polished it up a bit, but about half of it was written in ten minutes.

I got a kick out of it. I hope you do too. 😊

 

I don’t know where they came from, and at that moment I didn’t care. All I knew was a horde of short people covered in what looked strangely like blood, but in retrospect was probably strawberry jam, were coming at me like a pack of hungry snarling wolverines. Fearing for my life, I frantically searched for an escape. My stomach dropped and I began vehemently cursing the Fates for bringing me to one of the few rooms in the school where there was only one door and the windows were sealed shut.

I was trapped.

I turned to face the horde of stick smelly five-year-olds, praying my death would be quick and relatively painless. The feverish glitter in their eyes did not give me hope.

“Climb!” someone screamed.

What?

Climb?

Where?

It was then I saw her. Huddled in the far corner of the room on top of a filing cabinet was a young woman whose clothes were ripped and hair in sticky disarray. It was apparent they had gotten to her first and were back for more. I was just the unlucky sap that found himself in the wrong place at the wrong time. Life was like that sometimes. Throwing you into the middle of a hurricane just to see if you would survive. My first thought as I leaped for the filing cabinet that this would not be one of those times.

Just as I was about to climb to safety, something grabbed my pant leg and pulled. Yelling in surprise as the woman screamed and grabbed a hold of me, I frantically tried to get free. It was no use. They were just too strong.

“Take of your pants!” she yelled.

“What? Are you crazy?”

“I can’t hold on much longer,” she gritted as I slid a few more millimeters into the mass. “It’s either you or the pants, and you do not want to know what they did to the other one.”

Pants it was.

“What the hell happened?” I yelled as I scrambled on top of the filing cabinet next to her, finally free.

“It was a birthday party,” she gasped. “One of the mothers brought jam filled donuts to celebrate. They attacked her at the door. After that…,” her voice trailed off as her eyes grew haunted and her face even pale, the horror of a room full of five-year-olds on a massive sugar high obviously rendering her catatonic. God only knew what was left of the poor woman who innocently brought the means of our destruction.

Looking down at the crawling, wriggling, sticky mass that was once happily calm children bent on tearing me apart I realized one thing.

We were doomed.

 

Copyright © 2017 Heidi Barnes

Sometimes Only the Paper Listens

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Source Unknown

 

 

When the words won’t stop pestering me, or they are words no one else will listen to or can be said out loud, paper becomes my best friend. My confident. The words must come out in some form or nothing else will get done, let alone with any kind of  efficiency or quality. The only thing one must be wary of are those who cannot keep thier mittens to themselves. The ones who must know everything, cannot stand it when something is kept from them, never heard the phrase, “Curiosity killed the cat.” Then the paper you trusted so well becomes the betrayer. Yes the paper maybe be the only one who listens, but it can also speak, and once words are spoken they can never be taken back.

© 2017 Heidi Barnes

This was inspired by a prompt on Writing Outside the Lines by Annie.

Daily Prompt: Immerse

via Daily Prompt: Immerse

When the world is too much
when one more look
one more word
will send me over the edge
I find myself wondering
what it would be like
to immerse myself in someone else’s
life
To, for once, not have to deal with my problems
To see through another’s eyes
another’s culture
To experience something I have never experienced
before
To disappear in another world
even if only for a moment
and breathe.

Copyright 2017 Heidi Barnes