Lit And On Fire

  I’ve heard about brides stressing over the preparations for their wedding day; of grooms passively saying yes to however their wives-to-be pictured their special day; of fancy preparations from save the dates to engagement parties, prenuptial shoots, and elaborate rehearsal dinners; of over-the-top wedding programs, expensive bouquets, flower arrangements, and bridal gowns.  Mike and I wanted none of that. We both pictured a no-frills wedding by the beach with the people closest to our hearts. We planned every detail of it TOGETHER, and we got exactly what we wanted. It was a beautiful day for a wedding. Windy with a few scattered clouds and the sun slightly hidden among them. Mike and I were thrilled that it didn’t rain and we got the outdoor wedding we pictured. We had a laid back ceremony as well where we got to say our personalized vows. Mike posted his vows on his blog and here’s mine.  ————— I DO, I WILL Mike, when I say I do, I mean  that by God's grace… I ...

Today's writing prompt: A magical mishap shrinks your character for twenty four hours. How does the day go? - - - - - o 0 o - - - - - Mini Magical Mishap ( b y  J u c y ) “Beet root, potato peel, onion bulbs... “Abigail!” her mother’s voice interrupted her thoughts. “Yes, Mom?” “What are you doing in here? Are you still trying to concoct a vaccine for this virus?” “I’m close, Mom; I can feel it!” “Why don’t you leave that to the scientists and the medical community. You are 17; it’s not your responsibility to solve the world’s problems.” “But I’m on to something, Mom. I really believe this would do the trick.” “Okay. Just be careful that you don’t hurt yourself in this basement.” “I will, Mom.” Abigail continued mixing the ingredients she gathered from her grandmother’s garden and the chemical compounds she took from her school’s chemistry lab. She knew that she’d be expelled if her teacher ever found out; but once she finds the cure for COVID-19, they will forget about her little ...

This week's first writing prompt is the word 'earl'. - - - - - o 0 o - - - - - The Earls of Love ( b y   J u c y ) The pEARLs he gave her that night glimmered under the starlight They look grand, lightly perched on her EARLobes The pEARLescent orbs a compliment to her perfectly tanned skin Five decades thence and five more hence, he loved her fiercely and dEARLy His brown shEARLing wool coat, a covert witness To his fEARLess profession of sober yet true love Daily, monthly, yEARLy he proved his devotion Demonstrated his affection with bEARLike consistency From EARLy morning, dusk, till dawn He stands by her side yEARLong Their love his home and EARLdom Their lives proceeded linEARLy They moved as one, rectilinEARLy And though they're nEARLy at the sunset of their days They hold hands and stare at each other, tEARLess The joy the feel, boundless; their love, gEARLess - - - - - o 0 o - - - - - Essex ( b y  M i k e ) Even after realizing lies Analyzing rude, loquacious eye...

- - - - -  T H U N D E R - - - - - ( by Mike ) Zeus indeed commanded it Compelling all to bow A deafening sound, a rumble What do we do right now? Olympus dwellers exclaim And mortals choose parlay The father of the deities  Had something else to say Elsewhere, far, however The Son of Asgard tries Without a heavy hammer Who knows how he will fly Preceding or proceeding It ever will be heard When Odinson approaches The skies produce one word Perhaps another wielder Of wind and rain and hale Can aptly demonstrate here Where others ably fail Demanding eyes to witness And ears to hear the peals Let Miss Ororo Munroe Show you the real deal But really, as it turns out The noise, the boisterous din Brought stormy clouds and rainfall And joys come from within 'Cause Willy's favorite product Got soaked and melted, flowed Into a chocolate river Confectioners explode - - - - - o 0 o - - - - - - - - - - T H U N D E R - - - - - ( by Jucy ) A deep, throaty rumble in the night sky That slowl...

We are starting a new segment on this blog called 'PROMPTED', which will be a series of posts containing two blog entries written by Mike and Jucy based on writing springboards taken from a book of daily writing prompts. This is their first attempt based on the following writing idea: "A star falls from the sky and lands on a family's backyard. Only, it isn't a star... but a friendly alien." - - - - - S T A R - - - - - ( by Jucy ) One summer night in Shannon A streak of light shot through the sky A star dropped from the heavens And there on our backyard died The wooden shed was in ruins As the celestial body burned I was busy dousing the fire But my father looked unconcerned “Dad, should we call the fire department?” “No, the rain will soon pour” “But the wind is getting stronger! “Don’t worry it’s under control” The tongues of flames subsided Ashes scattered in the air The shed a blackened charcoal I said a little prayer Mother stood by the greenhouse With a ...

tones of grief, epitome of shame half-wrought notes : apology or blame throw the stone — regret — into the deep on the edge, the onset very steep share the baggage, every single weight but unload and shear before too late silent burden hears a lot and more scurrying like hares upon the floor steal the thunder and obscure the light slip them tales of fake and frigid might wipe the board clean; write it on a slate stale or recent; do not hesitate smile , go on like everything’s afloat keep it neat; there’s slime under the moat don’t be dour, sour from these limes   miles to go; there will be sleeping time

Feel free to judge me Go on, expose your heart Point your righteous finger If you really want to start Make your estimations Conjecture all you like In the end, it’s not my vocals Blaring on the mic Feel free to judge me You’re perfect, I presume Your character’s in order Is what I would assume Or maybe check the mirror For specks inside your eye Don’t worry ‘bout my vision I take care of my sight Feel free to judge me But keep it to yourself If I do not solicit Then I don’t need your help Respect is quite essential Like distancing and masks If I need your wisdom I would surely ask Feel free to judge me Or better yet, judge your own Look at your own demeanor And if at all you’ve grown I’m not your goodwill project Can’t read my heart and mind You do not know my story So don’t be rude; be kind Feel free to judge me I’m beloved by my Lord He will rightly defend me Be careful with your sword Do not do unto others What’s not been done to you...

This is a loose English translation of the beautiful poem written by Juan Miguel Severo which he penned (mostly) in Tagalog. You can read his original work here: Pipiliin Kita . ----- I Choose You, Still Love is not blind. The eyes of true love can see through anything and clearer than anyone; so I thank you, thank you for truly seeing and fully knowing me - the good, the bad, and everything in between - and loving me anyway. I see you too - your beauty and all your mess - and I hope that you know I love you just as much. As those who have loved and lost come to mind, I've come to grips with the truth that it is stupid and foolhardy to demand perfection from love, from myself, or from anyone. By and by, I've realized that everyone is flawed and loves imperfectly. The question I needed to answer was not whether I could find someone ideal and faultless but whether I could find that one person whose warts, wrinkles, and flaws I could see and yet ch...

knit one overrated glow middle lamp lay boiling lick, paste unwritten existence contradict unhealthy sparkle conquer real chairs, tremble give nutritious rush, soar endorse puffy turkey stick withdraw abrupt scream This poem was composed using the words shown above, from a random word generator.

Words are weapons that wreck Wielded in wastlelands wreaked by weeds Worthless, wearisome wrangles Wars waged with wantonness A wicked word welts and wounds Weakens, wears, and wrings Wayward warnings, worrisome wallops Whittles a welcome to wordless wails Warmth wanes for want of worship Wonder withers, whimpers by the wayside Wishes wilt, wince with the wind Whispers of worry, whines go wild Wisdom withheld wavers Wit not written is weightless Worlds of wealth winnowed by the wind A wellspring of water wasted Weave with wholehearted wariness Woes worded with wretched whims But write as wise warriors Words that win willing witnesses

please wash away the second continental obligation  meeting clothes differ discover the belly of a convict equip him to jump the problem reporter wheel a memorial contempt wriggle, tread, soar to the satellite flag the marketing cheat  with a handy provincial farewell proud, talented prince channel his major worry, and relate the flow of the hierarchy dominates his college  and turns heaven difficult and into an admiration of an aluminium attic remind them of the rock of grounds grandfather wrestled for scream off the myths roar for victory small traits

Here's to all the ones Who are up before the sun And hides in the storage room To get some paperwork done Who cooks for hours on weekends And goes to a hundred playdates Feeds the baby while on a Zoom meeting While corporate stuff she delegates Here's to those who thinks About everyone all day Looking after their affairs So not a one is in disarray She smiles as she remembers The tiny faces in her locket For whom she says her prayers Alone in her secret closet Here's to you, Mommy Nanay, Maman, Makuahine Aiti, Maji, Okaasan Matka, Muter, Ammee Words do not suffice Nor flowers, hugs, or chocolate For all you are and do And the love you pull out of your pocket So put on your stilettos Sneakers or dancing shoes Some mascara, a red lippy A dress in the shade of chartreuse Or put your feet up on the sofa Binge-watch a show for hours Or read all day in the garden Today you won't need your superpowers ...