Percopotomus - Day 8 - RIP Davy Jones

This was written in response to the news that Davy Jones of the Monkees passed away today at the age of 66.

With the death of the daydream believer
the homecoming queen
lost her crown on that
Pleasant Valley Sunday

Now she's riding the last train
to Clarksville
so she can meet him at the station
and soon they'll be hiding together
'neath the Bluebird's wing
sharing coffee-flavored kisses
never to hear the six o'clock alarm ring again

Percopotomus - Day 7 - Lilacs and Roses

Prompts: Lilacs and Roses and terms for various groups of animals (from the San Diego Zoo)

Memories of the lilacs and roses
float through the clouds in my coffee
Brought to mind by the charm of finches
and the chattering of starlings
chasing the kettle of hawks away

That was before a murder of crows
swooped into the trees
portending a future
full of a clutter of spiders
and a den of snakes

When all I wanted to see was
a flutter of butterflies again

Instead, I got a pack of dogs
and a sounder of swine

Life truly is no bed of oysters

Perocoptomus - Day 6 - Love's Loss, Love's Gain

Prompt: dredging the bottom of winter

Love's loss is like
dredging the bottom of winter
looking for meaning
wondering what comes hinder

Love's gain is like
skimming the top of summer
reveling in warmth
awakening from slumber

Dredging the bottom of winter
sloughing through the pain
working through the loss
striving for some gain

Skimming the top of summer
feeling light and free
never stopping to think
is this really me

Summer love loses its shine
in the cold chill of winter

Seeds sown in spring
burst forth in fall

By following the proper sequence
you can truly have it all

To every season, turn, turn, turn
the toil in each must be done
lest the love won in summer
be lost to the winter's dreary sun

Percopotomus - Day 5 - Moon Beams

From the prompt: a sliver of moon in an azure sky

A sliver of moon in the azure sky
brings to mind lines of a song

It's only a paper moon
sailing over a cardboard sea
but it wouldn't be make-believe
if you believed in me

A full moon burning bright against the dark of night
brings to mind lines of a song

When the moon hits your eye
like a big pizza pie
that's amore

No moon shining against the stars
reminds me that you no longer are
here with me
under the sea
in an octopus's garden
in the shade

But then you never were

Percopotomus - Day 4 - Belonging

Prompts: I belong nowhere else; A wonder and moment of turning

I belong nowhere else than where I am right here, right now. I once would have said I belong nowhere else but there, or there, or even there. Now I know better.

It took a wonder and a moment of turning to realize that I am truly in the right place right now - even though my heart may not agree at times. My intuition, however, knows better.

That intuition is what sparked the wonder - wondering why my stomach hurt like something bad was happening, even though my head and my heart could not see it yet. The turning was the turning in, the tuning in to my intuition and truly listening to it for the first time in years.

So while the road ahead is rocky, having not been taken often, I know that whatever comes my way from this point forward, I belong nowhere else.

Percopotomus - Day 3 - Inside a Poem

Inspired by the prompt of the same name:

Inside a poem,
I can tell a story,
share my dreams,
my fears,
my life.

Inside a poem
I can put out a message,
to one person,
to many people,
to make people think.

Inside a poem
I can share
my perceptions,
my reality,
my truth.

Inside a poem
I can tell it
like it really is.

And only those who know me will truly understand.

Percopotomus 2012 - Day 2 - Light

The prompt for this entry was: The atheist turned a little pale.

Was it the Light surrounding Us that caused his skin to turn to alabaster?

Was it the Proof that when two or more of Us are gathered together, the Light within each of Us can no longer hide under the bushel of aloneness?

Or was it when he realized that to be the Master, one must also be the Servant?

For whatever reason, the atheist turned a little pale as he approached our circle in the old oak grove.

Percopotomus 2012 - Day 1 - Truth

So, CHPercolators - a Yahoo group I belong to - is doing the annual Percopotamus from 22 Feb 12 to 2 Mar 12.

Basically we write a piece every day - a complete piece - of fiction, non-fiction, poetry, etc. and post it to the group.

So, here is my submission du jour:

From today's prompt list: The artist cannot be deaf to the call of truth; it alone defines his/her creative will.

What is Truth after all?

Is what one calls reality Truth?

If reality is just perception how does one perceive Truth?

If perceptions are simply one's interpretation of the input of the five senses - sight, sound, touch, taste and smell - then how does one interpret Truth?

What about the sixth sense - intuition? Is it possible that Truth is what one's intuition perceives and tries to communicate through those gut feelings?

And if that is Truth, then what does one do when one knows Truth?

Does Truth truly set one free?

Or does Truth instead ensnare one in yet another web - either silken or thorn-laden - based on one's interpretation, perception and reality of Truth?

After all, what is Truth, really?