Sunday Scribblings: Storm and A to Z: Zombies

The last letter for the Blogging from A to Z Challenge.
                                   and
This week's Sunday Scribblings prompt is storm.

Z is for Zombies

     I watched Derry drag the body across the field, his fingers gripped onto the cuff of its pant legs. 

     "Why are you touching it?" I whispered, chocking on my own question.

     "Help me!"

     "We've killed it already. What are you doing?" I pleaded.

     "It's the smell." I watched him pull out the ax from his hip. He tugged at the dead mans arm then laid the weapon across his wrist, copping through the entire bone.

     He throw the severed hand towards me. Without intention, I caught it. I kept the vomit in my mouth.

     "Smear the blood on your clothes. Don't get any on your skin," he ordered.

     I clasped the fingers into my own palm. What was left of this life dripped onto the earth at my feet. 

     "Don't waste it. Spread it onto yourself". He stabbed at the stomach and pulled out enough to cover himself with. "We know that they are not the most clever creatures, right? Yet, I've never seen them mistake one of us for them nor one of them for us. I've been trying to figure out what it is that helps them tell us apart. It's the smell, I know it is." He covered his arms in liquid and string.
     "I..I don't know..."
     "I'm not saying that they are as keen as hounds of blood, but it has to do with the stench, I'm sure of that."  At arms length, he cut of the other side for me.
     I couldn't control my stomach any longer. I hurled my insides out and rubbed old flesh across my clothes. I wasn't dead yet and I didn't want to be one of them, so I would hold my breath while I covered myself in their stench. "I hope this works."
     "You and me both."
     We cut across the field and followed the main road that led into town. The ammunition store wouldn't be far, but the streets would be crawling with them.
     "Are you ready for this?" Derry asked as we entered their world.
     "I don't know."
     A stream of harsh clouds had followed us in. "No. It can't rain now." In all of my hurling discontent, I hadn't considered this.
     "Here's one of them. Roy, move slowly. Make a moaning sound as you move past him."
     I staggered past the dead man. He stared at me, his face empty of its nose. He groaned and carried on past me. My heart rolled out of my shoes.
     "It's working. This is going to be fine. Through the alley way and over to Mill Street."
     "Derry, we need to move faster. Let's get the guns we need and make it back across before the rain." I started to run, until the end of the alley way, and then, again, we became dead  with them.
     We walked side-by-side with them. Pieces of cloth, bone, and body lingered along the street. The store was in sight. We broke through the glass and crawled in. They heard.
     "We need to hurry."
     I had never seen so many guns in my entire life. "What do we get?"
     "Everything. And extra ammo."
     We filled our bags and listened as their swaying steps became closer. With our loot, we rushed to the door. They were there with their hearts hungry. Derry opened the door. We glided past them and the rain fell. I whimpered.
     "Keep moving." Beyond the flesh, I could smell Derry's fear.
     We moved and the storm moved and their eyes moved along with us. We ran and they poured out of each alley. Their arms reaching out in front of them, calling out to us, desperately hoping to make us into one of them.

A to Z:Yuba

Y is for the Yuba River

Our family found home for ourselves a few years back in one of the most beautiful parts of North California. In an old Gold Rush town we are snug amongst the Sierra Nevada Foothills, Tahoe National Forest, and the South Yuba River. In our small town are snowy winters, steep slopes, the Douglas Fir, the Giant Sequoia, and Incense Cedars. The folks are charming, the culture eclectic, and the seasons are brilliant. 

In the summers, the sky is eternal and the people are beautiful.

In winter, the air is crystal and branches drench in moss.

For us, the brightest star is the water in the river.

On the south-folk of the Yuba is Bridgeport, our favorite family spot. The wood-covered bridge is monumental, a historic landmark, served by miners of the north.

 Through the bridge and into the water.

We quickly add a rock circle for whomever is a baby at the time.

Safe and sound you'll stay.

The sun and the spring and the sound.

A sparkling meadow amongst the Firs.

Making mermaid people.

A few fish to catch.

What they call Lagoon Island.

Treasures to take home, some to mask in paint.

And a bunch of boys in watery days.

This summer, a little sister will find her way there, 

as she has only visited in a warm womb bloom.

I hope your summer is colored with lazy sun and spring water fun! 

A to Z: XOXO

X is for XOXO

This is an expression used for affection and friendship, usually placed at the end of a letter.
The common tradition of adding an 'X' at the end of a note dates back to the Medieval Ages.
Originally, a cross was drawn at the end in sincere honesty and in sworn oath,
a kiss placed upon the cross by the signer. 

Naturally, the cross became identified with a kiss.


In the promise of truth...xo

A to Z: Wonderful

W is for "What a Wonderful World"

I'm yellow and pink after I hear this song.

A to Z: Voice

V is for Voice

My voice lays 

humble

in the dark

A letter to the world

who never wrote back

to me

Do I change, then

and hope

that you will come back for me?


*Emily's voice

A to Z: Ulysses

U for the Blogging from A to Z Challenge.

U is for Ulysses

His travels are 

unrest 

until

his newer world.

Hero

with life he swallows

licking the last of every drop.

Following knowledge

like a sinking star.

In Troy

he left his name.

His "delight in battle"

a horse

in

war. 

Onward, towards the 

untraveled worlds

before the margin fades.

He returns with the Star of Dawn
Bootes and Pleiades
can both be seen.
A configuration of form
in the twilight sky.

They lost their life together
in prime
and flowering years.
As the sun-warmed earth is longed for by a swimmer
his dear wife,
still clear and faithful

after the test of years.

Moved earth and heaven.

Made weak by time

and fate.

That is what

what we are.

Equal in temper
strayed by starlet

of a heroic heart.

Sunday Scribblings: Marathon and A to Z: Time

The letter T for the Blogging from A to Z Challenge.
                                and
This week's Sunday Scribblings prompt is marathon.

T is for Time

Bells

ring for bliss.

Merry bells
in fortune tells.
Rushing,

flowing

in a sound of bells.

Ringing, 

swiftly
killing cells.

Testing and tiring,
lasting bells.

In what scale is time
told?
Standing still.

A day and date 

in tide and spell.

It sells and smells

whatever it tells. 

For millions,

a moment.
Rushing
and
flowing
in a sound of bells.
What is last and first,
the answer,
only time will tell.
Allowing
enduring,
lasting bells.

A to Z: Sons

S for the Blogging from A to Z Challenge.

S is for Siddhartha and Sahaj

Siddhartha, ten years old is on the right
and Sahaj, eight years old is on the left.

The oldest is our sage and his closest brother,
our lion.

Their early Kuk Sool days.

Siddhartha is the name of the Gautama Buddha, meaning 'one who has accomplished his goals'.
Sahaj, named after a form of yoga-Sahaj Marg Meditation, translates to 'the natural path'.

They share an inseparable friendship. 

Often, their school projects are co-oped. 

Recently, they were a couple of shister salesmen persuading their audience in purchasing 

ridiculous packages through their travel agency.

Everything is humor.

Currently, Siddhartha is Lewis and Sahaj is Clark and they are on an expedition.

Siddhartha's favorite author is Stephen King 

and Sahaj loves Roald Dahl.

If I were given the option of only one word for each son, 

this is what it would be:

Siddhartha: light

Sahaj: heart

Nothing in this world could make me more complete.

A to Z: Root Children

R for the Blogging from A to Z Challenge.

R is for The Root Children

In celebration of rhythm in every year.

Safe and sound,
the root children sleep their winter underground,
only to awaken to the sound of Spring.
With a candle in hand,
 their Spring mother rings,

the snow above ground is melting and the meadows are filling.
These children have work to do:
wash and brush,

fresh clothes to sew, and beetles and ladybirds to paint.

The sun is also busy above ground,
bring new leaves to the barren winter trees.
Dressing themselves as flowers and quickly climbing above ground,
the root-children spring.
As Mother Earth opens the door, they march out in procession.

They play in fields and ponds,
whimsical creatures flutter above.
These days are free and full of dance,

but when Autumn comes
and a sharp wind begins to blow the leaves down,
the root-children must hurry home to bed.
Old Man Winter is near so Mother Earth stands by the door,
greeting and hugging the root-children
one by one as they scurry to their beds,
nestling into a deep winter's sleep.

A century old story, timeless and rare,
in celebration of Earth's cycle.
The Root Children by Sibylle von Olfers

A to Z: Quotes

Q for the Blogging from A to Z Challenge.

Q is for Quotes

"All credibility, all good conscience, all evidence of truth come only from the senses." -Friedrich Nietzsche

"Birth and death are not two different states, but they are different aspects of the same state. There is as little reason to deplore the one as there is to be pleased over the other."-Mahatma Gandhi

"If only we could pull out our brain and use only our eyes." -Pablo Picasso


"Another world is not only possible, she is on her way. On a quiet day, I can hear her breathing". 
-Arundhati Roy

"I want to stand as close to the edge as I can without going over. Out on the edge you see all the kinds of things you can't see from the center." -Kurt Vonnegut


"If I can't dance, I don't want to be part of your revolution." -Emma Goldman

"A word is dead when it is said, some say. I say it just begins to live that day." -Emily Dickinson

"In the twilight, it was a vision of power." -Upton Sinclair

"Dark spruce forest frowned on either side of the frozen waterway. The trees had been stripped by a recent wind of their white covering of frost, and they seemed to lean towards each other, black and ominous, in the fading light. A vast silence reigned over the land." -White Fang, Jack London

A to Z: A People's History of the United States

P for the Blogging from A to Z Challenge.

P is for A People's History

Howard Zinn, an absolute delight in my eyes, who was revered and loved by many, passed away two years ago. Articulate and earnest, he left behind volumes of language, reflections, and messages intended to stimulate critical thought and to promote autonomous ideas and analysis.

As a historian, for the people, an activist, an author, an intellect, and an Air Force bombardier in World War II, he was an advocate for civil rights and a voice for labor unions. In his time he gave much thought to the injustices of the legal system and helped organize anti-war efforts. His accomplishments exposed the true struggles of Native Americans against European defeat and expansion. He explored the accounts of slaves, women, and unionist. All of which he included in his influential and widely-acclaimed book, A People's History of the United States. With this history textbook, he allowed readers to recognize the flaws in historical narrative and he inched open a doorway to thought-provoking departures from the common history books. His messages provoked many to question a superior history of omission.

“Civil disobedience is not our problem. Our problem is civilobedience. Our problem is that people all over the world have obeyed the dictates of leaders…and millions have been killed because of this obedience…Our problem is that people are obedient all over the world in the face of poverty and starvation and stupidity, and war, and cruelty. Our problem is that people are obedient while the jails are full of petty thieves… (and) the grand thieves are running the country. That’s our problem.”
— Howard Zinn

A warm memory of a man that devoted his life to acknowledging the whole of our social structure, to representing true accounts of life and action, and to recognizing submission as our greatest weakness. Thank you, Mr. Zinn, for your message and your greatest feat: fostering individual inquiry and activism.

A to Z: Orange

The letter O for the Blogging from A to Z Challenge.

O is for Orange

Last school year (we home-school), Sunday evenings were reserved for family poetry night. Some were in Couplets, some Sensory, some Haiku. Others were Inner-Self and some were Color.

For this post, I've decided that it is Sunday night and the boys have assigned a Color Poem to me.

Orange

a pile of colored blooms
the mandarin eyes peel
a blood-orange moon
pouring out of meal

salmon squirm
their bittersweet term

leaves burning fall
 hungry night's sky
rotting pumpkin face
soup and stew and die

"Poetry teaches the enormous force of a few words, and, in proportion to the inspiration, checks loquacity."

-Emerson

A to Z: Nalini

N is for my daughter for the Blogging from A to Z Challenge.

N is for Nalini

The last born, following four boys,

she is the one with an indomitable spirit.

Relentless spirit

Demanding spirit

My daughter


Her arrival was sudden and early,

a stunning show, really.

I waited until the end to know who she was.

Never anticipating that a girl would arrival.

What a delicious surprise.

We joke that she is being raised by wolves.

Each brother shares with her 

his own sense of "mommy". 

With Sahaj, one of her older brothers.

With Govinda, another older brother.

With Judah, again an older brother.

 With her oldest brother, Siddhartha.

Her name is Nalini, our little lotus, but we know her as Haile,

our love and light.

An empress princess.

A to Z: Mother

The letter M for the Blogging from A to Z Challenge.

M is for Mother 

"Who are we?

 We find that we live on an insignificant planet of a humdrum star lost in a galaxy tucked away
 in some forgotten corner of a universe in which there are far more galaxies than people." -Dr. Carl Sagan

"Those who dwell among the beauties and mysteries of the Earth
are never alone or weary of life." -Rachel Carson

"The surface of the Earth is the shore of the cosmic ocean. From it we have learned most of what we know. Recently, we have waded a little out of sea, enough to dampen our toes or, at most, wet our ankles.
The water seems inviting. The ocean calls. So" -Dr. Carl Sagan

Sunday Scribblings: Wealth and A to Z: Longing

L for the Blogging from A to Z Challenge.

                                 and

This week's Sunday Scribblings prompt is wealth.

L is for Longing

In my arms

when stars were white,

An old man studied magic in a flower.

A day we had

in sweet affluence of bells and song,

I held color in the sky.

Alive in my garden

strung by rare roots,

The world we painted in human flesh.

The dreams were green

fertile danced,

At sunrise, the trees were covered in hoarfrost.

A crack in the lines where another world begins.

This one ends.

Through the hole

where sap and spirit are withheld,

The old man stops.

The summer is short

the end is pale and spoiled,

The old man starves.

Behind the iron gate

mounds of blood pour out,

The old man crawls.

In my hand

where the flower stands,

Silver bells are still ringing. 

"To die for beauty, than live for bread." -Emerson

*photo-Lane of Poplars at Sunset, Van Gogh.

A to Z: Jack Kerouac

K for the Blogging from A to Z Challenge.

K is for Jack Kerouac

"I like too many things and get all confused and hung-up
running from one falling star to another till I drop.
This is the night, what it does to you.
I had nothing to offer anybody except my own confusion."

For the beat generation,

on the road.

A to Z: Judah

Catching up with the letter J for the Blogging from A to Z Challenge.

J is for Judah

When he came, the trinity was complete.

He brought along a string of messages. I've kept notes on my conversations with him. 

He is small for his age, in the middle of our family, and he is known to make a clear point when he speaks.

The nick-names that he has given to his baby sister(Haile):

Chubby-fat

Rainbow-Haile

Mary-cherry

He is her favorite; I find them in corners, cuddling and kissing.

A list of his most insightful speech:

Judah on war:

(while finishing a cream-filled popsicle) "Mom, I don't want to go to war. Because when you get back everything is different. You don't know what to do. You have to start all over again. Plus, I don't want to lose my arms."

(The plan in our home, to give each son a copy of Dalton Trumbo's Johnny Got His Gun before an army recruiter approaches. Based on this conversation, Judah has already read the book!

Judah on birth:

"Babies come from Moms. If there was no Mom, there would be no babies in the world. When the ocean slips out, then the baby comes. When I grow up and have a baby, the ocean will be in my tummy too."

Judah on God:

"God is like a soul. God can hold everything you have in his body. Flesh, bone, blood. I don't forget about her. He won't forget about you."

"Is God a He or a She?" I wondered.

"A She," he answered.

"Why?" I asked.

"Because She sits on a flower and wears a dress."

J is for a little boy who lives in his dreams,
where language is yellow and bubbly 

and stories are sage and true.