Two campers huddled by a fire trying to stave off freezing temperatures at the lower rim of the Grand Canyon one night, when they saw quite a sight…
an old Indian was walking on air beneath the bright moonlight, casually strolling alongside the ruby red ridge without making a sound, and not even looking down…
One camper told the other who was his brother that the man they saw was Levi Levi of the Hualapai, the last great chief of the Mountain Tribe who still protects his people and gives them pride…
and who inspired a source of income that is now worldwide…
… called the Skywalk, a trail shaped like a horseshoe with a steel frame and a glass floor, to some tourists delighted horror, with sides that project 70 feet from the rim, it’s an attraction that brings them in
and the two campers let the fire dim, as they slipped into sleep dreaming of walking Skywalk’s scenic rim.
The Roman arena on display with the blood of humans and animals on a scorching August day…
we see a massive iron gate rise and out strides two gladiators in armor with killer eyes, ready to find out which one dies…
the blistering heat from the sandy arena floor shimmers on their swords as they walk through the gore and stand before the emperor, listening to the crowd’s roar…
“We who are about to die…” is drowned out by the crowd’s excited cries from spectators with blood in the eyes…
the emperor gives a slight nod and sat down, and the combatants turned around until they faced each other in the open ground, weapons held high, both hoping the other would die…
metal rang against metal in the raging heat, as each athlete refused to retreat so that blood covered each from head to feet while spectators passed out in the terrible heat…
finally one of the men clove open the other’s head, striking him instantly dead, leaving the victor the champion for the day, a title he’d be forced to defend again and again until his last day
(132 words- flash fiction/poetry)
In the chronicles of Narmer the first King to unite the Upper and Lower Nile, a strange thing happened one night when a brilliant light streaked across the desert sky…
the light, which was actually a meteorite, hit a site near a Hittite temple hundreds of miles away, glowing where it lay, night and day, with a mysterious inner fire that attracted followers by the day…
who listened to the priests gathered there to pray to the meteorite, creating rites and calling it a god for lost souls seeking their way to eternity, a powerful entity that soon inspired a new prosperous Hittite city…
The inevitable clash of nations happened within a century, as the dark gods of both civilizations clashed, like opposing meteorites created by ideologies that couldn’t survive future centuries.
the residents of Rogueville loved listening to their bell ring out from the town’s highest tower, the church spire
but the bell had a history
it was a thing of mystery
it’s origin hotly debated
the bell was silver plated
over brass and steel
that mighty bell did peal
three times a day
calling people to pray
until the word got out
what the bell was about
a souvenir from a war
a symbol of the horror
so the town took down
their symbol of pride
sadly setting it aside
there’s many ways to greet one another
when we get together
hugs and handshakes
have been around forever
there are other ways that are clever
like the dap
which is a slow motion slap
in an intricate pattern of bumps
from one closed fist to the other
a common greeting for a soul brother
was born in shared strife
as a way of re-affirming life
a positive way
to get through the day
a comforting display
back in the day
he captured the average American experience
with words woven with activism and skepticism
an insurgent in the literary world with no allegiance
to traditional poetry and using abstract expressionism
he confesses to being an anarchist at heart
encouraging poets to write about political and cultural
aspects of their country like laws and local art
Lawrence Ferlinghetti who turned 100 the other day
still burns brightly in the world of poetry
an icon with plenty left to say
about the world and our society
Essay – 246 words
While walking down a street in the Kingdom of Thailand where ex-pats from around the world land, blending seamlessly into the local 1970 economy, I met a young boy with a man’s eyes.
He was probably ten – going onto forty – with worldly knowledge far beyond his tender years. Anuia was a frail street waif with the wisdom of the local marketplace for sale. He promised the best place to stay, my drug of choice, and prostitutes with breathless beauty, if I hired him throughout my stay.
We toured a banana plantation, and a red light district called
Pattaya, with outrageous sex acts they were not even considered risqué in the day. Creedance Clearwater Revival rocked the bars with “Looking Out My Backdoor.” I smoked some of the best weed in my life, comparing it to the Vietnamese strain that made you forget your name.
We watched kick fighter’s knock each other out, only to get up afterwards and respectfully bow to one another. Anuia shared his best curse words to get quick results, and bargained over every transaction like it might be his last. He was shrewd and a survivor, with no parents or family.
The thing that impressed me the most was he was always smiling – except when he negotiated a deal. His smile seemed to defy the life he led. When my time was up, and I had to go, he shook my hand, then turned to greet another group of visitors deplaning nearby.
200 words –
“Here’s one! It’s plain to see this animal is half rabbit and half antelope,” Long Tom Silver assured the greedy easterners who eyed the tintype photo and looked around at the vast prairie.
“Come gentlemen! Where is your sense of adventure? These creatures are all over the Western plains. Their meat is an exquisite treat! With your fine rifles you can shoot all you can eat.”
The four dandies looked at one another. The train they just got off let out a robust whistle and rolled down the tracks into the horizon. Long Tom had their horses and gear ready.
“I gotta tell you boys, there were a lot of applicants for this hunt. But like I said in the newspaper advertisement, only four men would be selected for the hunt of a lifetime. You boys made the grade.
“One last thing,” Long Tom said. “I’ll be requiring my fees for this expedition now.”
The men didn’t looked surprised. It was what they all agreed on. Each handed Long Tom a sack of gold coins.
He took each one with a smile and gave a word of advise, “You boy’s should make a day camp. Jackalopes only come out at night,” he suggested while pointing his horse south towards Mexico.
“It’s time,” his executioner said.
He knew he was paying the price for making prominent Athenian’s look like fools. His supposed crime; not believing in the gods of the state.
His wisdom, once sought after throughout the civilized world, did not save him from his fate. Justice and the pursuit of goodness led him to this last moment on earth.
He became the purifying remedy for Athens’ misfortunes despite his contributions to the state. The sacrificial goat. But he had the last laugh, eternal fame for his wisdom.
“Drink this,” the executioner offered, handing Socrates the cup of poison hemlock.
Luke, a hitman for mafia boss Sam Giancana, looked up at the School Book Depository building knowing Lee Harvey Oswald was inside waiting.
He was told Oswald was going to try and assassinate President J.F. Kennedy as his motorcade slowly drove by in downtown Dallas. They told him Oswald was going to be the false sponsor for the murder.
Luke checked under his trench coat, touching the Mannlicher-Carcano rifle briefly. Identical to the one Oswald had. No one noticed him blend into the tree line of the grassy knoll.
He waited until the time was right, took aim and fired!