Saturday, November 1, 2014

Musings: LIARS—All the Good Ones Are Natural Story Tellers

LIARS—All the Good Ones Are Natural
Born Story Tellers

When I was I kid, I used to entertain my friends and classmates with detailed and complicated (and sometimes embarrassing) narratives— stories

Some people called them lies—right to my face


So, today i'm asking myself: What's the difference between a story and a lie?

It's being a writer and entertaining masses who want to believe

Being able to tell a great story is being able to embellish just enough so the story is believable...Some may question, but if they don't know, they certainly can't challenge you.

Here is just a few of the great story tellers:


Jorge Francisco Isidoro Luis Borges

Mary Shelley

Charles Bukowski

Mary Ann Evans, known by her pen name George Eliot

Oscar Wilde

JK Rowling

Ernest Hemingway

Adeline Virginia Woolf
Agatha Christie

Gabriel García Márquez

There are so many more. WHO would you add?

Thursday, October 30, 2014

Mimi-Mona Poetry: A Tale for Halloween

©A Tale for Halloween

Mimi Wolske
October 2010
Mimi Wolske-Mona Arizona™
All Rights Reserved

Who Is This Child?

Wind moans; eagles scream
Trees bark and crawlies dream
The moon laughs as other worldleys prowl
Coyotes listen as wolves howl
Human souls, deer, and rabbits all run
The sun hides from midnight's shun
Gaps close and nightmares grow
Shadows flock to watch the show
And then, from the night--a silhouette's empty eyes--a golden-haired child! Noise stops and frolickers mild
Mystery settles, a fog in the air
The surplus of joy is now hardly there
The air stills--stops every breeze
Animals, wind, and shadows all freeze
Who is this girl, this delicate child with eyes devoid, so hauntingly wild?
And why is she here, roaming the night without even a flitter, a shiver of fright? this girl, this child,
Should be home and in bed
Innocent tears should stain her eyes red
She should flee from the trees and glowing eyes
She should dart and dash from the critters' loud cries
But she stands like an omen, silent and tall
And the trees hardly move--not a leaf dares to fall
All is silent and still, not a flicker of life
Vacant eyes slice the scene, sharp as a knife
Then a soft little noise sifts through the air
It chills the mood by just being there
And a child's innocent giggle turns to a laugh—
It grows to a scream and that's only half!
The sun hits the dark, an explosion of light
And a delicate child runs out of sight,
A grayish-faced child with eyes of the night;
She darts and she dashes, devoid of all fright.

The Child Grows 

Sea sobs, ululates
Rocks groan as a fish stagnates
Ebon clouds gather to prepare for night
While bird and beast cowl with affright
Mortal hearts pounding with fainting spirits
Far away from Death’s caskets
Gaps open terrifying
The penumbra converging
Suddenly she’s seen--the silhouette with eyes of void—
Golden-haired child no longer, a pale covering—sarcoid
Hair like a mystery down her spine
She gazes pass nonexistent moon shine
The air swirls—creates a breeze
Animals, wind, and shadows all freeze
Who is this young woman, this fragile girl who grows with the night, who’s no longer a child?
And what’s that with her, sitting the night without even a flitter or shiver of fright? Is this some wiled,
Some trick or perhaps ruse?
Culpable partner? And what will effuse?
She remains, staring at the cold sea
She should depart, appear to be more chastely
But she sits and what is it she will presage?
Who will understand her or her devil’s language?
All is silent and still, not a flicker of life
Vacant eyes slice the scene, sharp as a knife
Then a soft little noise sifts through the air
It chills the mood by just being there
A woman's amiable laugh that turns to weeping—
It grows to a cry; what’s she reaping!?
The moon strikes the clouds, an expression of light
And the fragile young girl vanishes from sight,
A grayish-faced woman with eyes of night;
She is coming for you at half past twilight.

Don’t Look 

Drooly, gooly sounds
The antithesis confounds
Pounding shapes louder than eternal dark
Under the dead moon disembark
Sinister beings and dripping ghouls
Blanketed with jewels
From a different chamber
Seeking those who dare wander
Is it a wonder, is it a surprise
That against the malformed ebony is where she lies
This child, girl, woman with devoid eyes
Skin so pale and hair so dark—beware,
Beware—don’t look lest your vision she impair
Ominous trouble, threatening evil, presaging menace, from a distance her beauty belies
The mesmerizing, hypnotizing attraction that holds one’s interest on her fateful disguise
When cast under her spell
You forget to look under your bed…hell
Is the home to her and her inky kind
And she’s waiting for you if you’re inclined
Around the corner, behind the skinned tree
Sinister beings and dripping ghouls wait patiently
All is silent and still, not a flicker of life
Vacant eyes slice the scene, sharp as a knife
Then a soft little noise sifts through the air
It chills the mood by just being there
A child’s giggle, a woman’s laugh—it’s you she seeks
Chills spill down your spine; laugh transforms to shrieks
A deeper black dots the sky, they fly to her side
They’re coming for you…it’s half past evening tide
Run! Run fast as you dare into the lightless
Depths of disparaging gloom; there’s no success

Xenobia Beasts through the Umbra Come

Xenobia beasts
Through the umbra come, and priests,
Untenable souls, make the ravens cringe
Bloodless, undead monsters impinge
On the living—they’re not so choosey—
Doomed to wander endlessly
Hideous solanine lives
Darker is she who deprives
Down by the salley sanguinaria
The pallor’s gone from the living dead with no pneuma
Behind the veil of time she watches
And any who dares to look at her blanches
With terror and will be in need of a requiem
Close your eyes tight, dare you not to gaze upon her, the aging child, girl, woman who needs your lifeblood
No longer a child, departed is the being sublime, the woman who follows is one who is rotted
Touched by her boney hand
Your life will be hers just as she had planned
Crawl under floorboards, hide in the attic
Run little one, you must not be frantic
Obsessive devotion in its black sight
Her raven will find you before midnight
When all is silent and still, not a flicker of life,
Vacant eyes slice the scene, sharp as a knife
Then a horrible noise cuts through the air
It chills the mood by just being there
It’s no longer a child’s game, she’s come for you
Hold your breath, hide your face, she doth pursue
The empty clock beats faster than your heartbeat
You waited too long, no time left to retreat
She’s taken your father and your dear, sweet mum
Hear how she calls you? Hear her necro-hum?

Across the Edge of Unmarked Time 

A grave in the blackness
She’s left feeling anxious
With nothing only scaly bones under
The earth, whispery voice a blur
Not quite heard; indistinct from night
And hiding from the daylight
The sun begins to smile
Shadows fade, they’ve lost their wile
And then, feigning night—a silhouette's empty eyes—the woman becomes child!
Ghoulies’ voices once reviled
Are quiet once again; fog flees the air
Still the surplus of joy is hardly there
She’s left behind sadness and death
She inhales once more her last breath
This woman, this girl, now a child returns to inner depths for another year
You know why she was here roaming the night without even a flitter, a shiver of fright, so do not jeer
The penumbra departs
But something still exists, perverse it thwarts
Passing across the edge of unmarked time
When foul monsters return once more to begrime
And she’ll stand like an omen, silent and tall
And trees will hardly move—leaves will not dare to fall
All will be silent, still without a flicker of life
Vacant eyes will slice the peace sharp as a knife
And a soft little noise will sift through air
To chill the mood by just being there
And you, my innocent little one, have not escaped
The things in the night have merely reshaped
The grayish-faced child with eyes of the night
Who darts and who dashes, devoid of all fright,
Has not departed, she’s not through
Be afraid! Next year she’s coming for YOU!

Mimi-Mona Romantic Poetry: The Goodbye Kiss

Mimi Wolske, October 2014
Mimi Wolske-Mona Arizona™
All Rights Reserved

we—in total grips of despair
each—alone in Paradise
reluctant after a long, difficult discussion
you to sleep in your car
me to fly away home
bags packed
feeling something never felt before
never in our lives
in—we kiss goodbye
fear—epic and uncontrollable
tears in our eyes, we're about to go our separate ways
constant flow of fear
plaguing us for the last hours
like a kink in the garden hose
races with every pulse
strong pressure builds
raging terror
vacation's end
bags packed and
steps—a few taken forward
unknowing—can I do it
will you let me
highly aware of your fear
will she do it
can I stop her
is this the beginning
the start of something bad
the dangerous downward spiral
of not facing up to our fears
of having to turn it into something else
of losing the someone we each love
returning—the fear we felt
reality—we will be apart
a series of ledges and cliffs
I cry out
I have agoraphobia!
you run toward me
embrace me...tightly
I'll never let you go, you cry
I'll never leave you, I sob
we—the sweetest promise

Tuesday, October 28, 2014

MIMI-MONA Love Poetry: Love May Be A Paradigm, My Love Is Not

©Love May Be A Paradigm, My Love Is Not
Mimi Wolske, October 2014
Mimi Wolske - Mona Arizona

All Rights Reserved


Yes; I danced to the sounds of a different drum;
I've been mistaken and confused so many times.
Then you strolled into my world, you made things hum,
And you named my uniqueness using paradigms.

The warmth of your hugs melt my heart like a stripling
and I find is to please only you;
all thoughts of disappointing you seem crippling
but use of inflected forms must discontinue.

I'm not a stereotypical example;
I'm not a general conception, a given
Enquiry cannot be undertaken—how dull!
I'm the lover whose devotion can't be riven.

With your presence, I've an acute wish to achieve;
I can do things now I once would never believe.

love isn't love until you give it away they say, even through a tongue-in-cheek love sonnet :)