Prompts

Dark times can illuminate . . . Prompt #294

all-hallows-eveThe bewitching hour is near. All Hallows Eve approaches. Are you ready, my dear? Are you sure, my pretty?

If it happens in the dark and no one sees it, did it happen?

What goes on down those dark, narrow, alleys?

What happens after dark here and there and everywhere?

Are you the keeper of deep, dark secrets? Did you ask for that position? Can you give it up? Do you want to give it up?

Write about the dark. . . dark times, dark streets, dark thoughts. Don’t leave us in the dark. Enlighten us.

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2 comments

  1. PamH

    Trailer Trash

    I heard you speaking on the TV and
    cringed. Hid my face, then peeked up,
    looked around making sure no one could tell
    I know you.

    You acted as if you were not being used
    by another “good man”. You and I
    know better because we have met so
    many who paid the coin our starving
    hearts desired.

    We are descendants from bards and
    haunting music on Celtic harps. Our
    ancestor strong clans wild and free
    in the Smokey Mountain mists. Ancient
    ballads woven through our childhoods.

    You have praised my successes.
    I denied you. You have been my friend,
    have told stories that left me breathless
    with laughter. When others mock your
    NASCAR heroes, I pretend I don’t know you.

    I accepted invitations to your double-wide home
    where you offered me the good chair and an
    RC Cola. We talked about “How’s your mamma doing,
    what’s your sister up to?” You brought out
    a cheap guitar. We sang cry in your beer country songs,
    your angel voice soaring.

    I left you. Went back to my books and my dreams,
    high-tailed it out of town. Worked hard learning to speak
    Californian – just enough to know I would never belong.
    Only visited you when no one was looking.

    So yesterday I knew what it meant for you to tell
    your story, allowing yourself to be used. Just one more
    time, selling self-respect before returning to the cave
    labeled –Poor White Trash.

    1. mcullen Post author

      Powerful writing, PamH. Gave me chills. Such genuine, deep writing. This will be a good one to re-read, certain to pick up different nuances with each reading. Right now, “poor white trash” resonates. I love this story within a poem. Thank you for posting.

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