Birth

I gave birth today

Not from my barren womb,

but from my heart strong and my soul true

My fingertips gripped the pencil, poised over unlined paper

I had to press down hard to deliver my racing thoughts

and tore a hole right through the middle of the page

But on I wrote

 

When I went to read my creation

I found the letters had shifted into unrecognizable garble

I jiggled the paper to reorganize my reflections

Still the patterns seem to spell no word

Had I been fleeced of original thought?

I shook and waved the crumpled paper more and to my horror

I saw that I was continuously dropping syllables

 

At this rate my poem was sure to perish

as surely as apples that wilt and wither with blight

And so now I’ve had to adopt some sort of ad-lib

Some off the cuff step-child and pass it off as art

~Melanie Thomason

2/19/2022

Untitled short story

She was dying so slowly from the poison that she never even felt ill.  Or maybe it would be more accurate to say that she had never felt well but she just didn’t have a point of reference.

If one is always in the darkness do they miss the light? Even if they’ve never experienced it?

Yes, yes they do.  She had dreams and fantasies of course but never the energy to even attempt them.  Her imagination was the only part of her that was truly alive and reading fueled her.

She at the moment was living a stationary life, too weak and limp to even get herself out of bed.  But in her mind she was hiking up mountain trails, riding wild horses and visiting big cities with immense skyscrapers she only ever read about.

She heard the comings and goings in the rest of the house and wanted to know what was happening, maybe even be included for once and she tried to call out but found herself too hoarse to manage more than a whisper.  A voice fades from lack of use.

She once again found comfort by carefully unfolding the tattered and yellowed piece of stationery that she always kept on her.  Within its creases she spied the tiny pill, its presence reassuring.  She still had some control and when she was ready she would go on her own terms.

 

~Melanie Thomason

7/24/21

The Light at the End of the Tunnel

Smoky shadows

hungrily lick the tunnel walls

as flickering flames dance ‘round and ‘round

their unwitting victims with skin blistered and charred

singing,  “ashes, ashes they all fall down”

•

in our haste to find the light at the end of the tunnel…

we forgot to read the small print.

 

 

Photo by Anthony Rao on Unsplash

 

~Melanie Thomason

2/28/2021

dawning

image source – https://www.lovethispic.com/image/117556/good-morning

She is the calm

She is the storm

She is the dawning of each new day

She is beauty

She is nature

—

Love your mother

 

~Melanie Thomason

1/23/21

 

 

witness

gentle gloomy sky

a compassionate witness

to my fragile state of mind

~Melanie Thomason

1/23/21

Not complaining

It’s a small room

Simple

No frills

But I’m not complaining none

Got a roof over my head

A locked door

And a single bed

No pillow and one thin blanket

But when you’ve slept on the floor

or on the ground

It is a big step up

So I’m not complaining none

There is one small window

It has bars to keep me in

Don’t know why anyone thinks I’d run

I can still see the sun

And clouds

and sometimes a bird or two

I’m not complaining none

They bring me food

Three times a day

It isn’t fancy

But I’m not hungry now

So I’m not complaining none

They call me a basket case

I been called worse

Way worse

I’m not complaining none

~Melanie Thomason

1/07/2020

Gina (a short story)

Gina was tired, bone tired as they say. Her journey had been a long one and she was ready for the end.  She really was but first she just wanted a small respite, some comfort and sleep to prepare herself for what was to be her last official act.  There were only so many times she could run through the recent events in her head and she wasn’t coming up with any solutions anyway. She knew that she wouldn’t.  Her impassioned pleas for assistance had fallen on deaf ears once again so she knew she had reached the end of her journey. What she needed was to just not be conscious anymore, shut her brain off and rest.

She started looking for the ubiquitous road signs for hotels and motels up ahead.  As if on cue, Gina saw the sign for the Venus Bed & Breakfast.  She followed the directions and in no time at all she was pulling up in front of the most charming little cottage she had ever seen.  There were colorful flowers in every windowsill and the entire place was surrounded by a field of sunflowers.  It was gorgeous and Gina could already feel some of the tension melting away.  As she watched a butterfly flutter and land on her hand she felt a calmness that was alien to her.

The smell of freshly baking bread wafted through the open window causing her to salivate.  Gina hadn’t realized how hungry she was until that moment.  She went inside and was greeted with a fresh slice of hot bread with butter and jam before she could even check in.  “Heavenly,” Gina thought.

Her room was perfect too.  A cozy bed, piles of books served as the only decorations and there was a cat curled up in what looked like a perfectly comfy armchair. “Yes, if this is to be my last night, what a lovely night it will be.” she thought wistfully.

So it was.  The next morning, refreshed yet still determined, Gina went to check out of the B&B but found no one at the front desk.  She searched the cottage and finding it empty decided to just leave her key on the counter and go.  “After all,” she thought, “I have something to do and I don’t want to do it here.”  Then to her surprise the door wouldn’t open.  She checked the back door off the kitchen and all of the windows.  None of them would open.

That’s when she saw the envelope on table with her name on it.  “How strange” she thought as she opened and began to read the letter.

Gina,

Please find the enclosed receipt for one day at Venus B&B.  You did know that a day on Venus lasts longer than a year that you are used to?  Doesn’t matter if you were aware or not, you cannot leave.  There is no way.  The windows will not break, don’t bother trying.

P.S.  We do hope you enjoy your stay.

 

“What a pretty prison” she thought as she flicked the blade open and slit her wrists.

~Melanie Thomason

11/13/2020

fall

 

Image by David Mark from Pixabay

gold dipped, crimson hued,

burnished copper emblazoned

leaves day dreaming~ fall

~Melanie Thomason

10/15/2020