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Bedoor Bluemoon

Everyday writing to expose the soul

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A Man Of All Men- Repost

Because people engraved in history never die, we never forget them.

 

As I lay my children

down to sleep

and pray the lord

their souls to keep,

outside all mourners

dressed in black

chant and grieve

and cry and weep.

: :

For on these days

so long ago

our faith bestowed

Itself so deep,

a battle and swords

and hearts of gold

fighting to keep religion

alive and complete.

: :

Outnumbered they were

one thousand to one

it wasn’t so easy

in all of the heat,

no water to drink

no mercy at all

from the army that’s filled

with lies and deceit.

: :

A man of all men

pure of heart and descent

approached the enemies with kindness

asking for their retreat,

‘Kill me not,’ he said

I fear for your souls

for you: eternal happiness

paradise so sweet.

: :

Their answer was clear

they all aimed their spears

to child, to nephew

to all the elite,

murdering them all

in one afternoon brawl

assassins of darkness

of bloody conceit.

: :

Thinking with death

they will put out the light

that theirs was a simple

and easy defeat,

what they didn’t know

people will always recall

the story of a man,

his thirst, and the heat.

: :

A man of all men

pure of heart and descent

lived a life of virtue

against those who mistreat,

a man of all men

pure of heart and descent

lives on in our hearts

with a sacrifice so complete.

.

For more info on the battle, click the link:
https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Battle_of_Karbala

The First Week on the Job- Bewildered

Bewildered

deer

Congratulations on your first job!  You are fresh in the workplace with many many many assumptions about what goes on.  You’ve been chosen from a list of candidates and impressed the bosses.  You’ve jumped through this hoops and finally got initiated into this wonderful place. Do you think it’s going to get better?  Well, it can’t possibly get worse, right?

Wrong.

Because now the real work starts, and I’m not talking about the tasks on your job description (if you’ve been given one), I’m talking about the merging of yourself with your social surroundings: your colleagues.

Similar to your first day in school, there are people who will accept you and people who wish you never set foot in the company.  There are people who will help you and people who will try to make your life a living hell.  Well, welcome to the real world, it’s a thousand times worse than school, you can’t take a sick day just to run away from a test, and above all that you’ve got your career at stake.

You will feel bewildered, lost, clueless, and will wonder what you are doing there.  You will question yourself, your knowledge and skills, your upbringing, and you will definitely have a little bit of inferiority complex to top it off.  In the end, you can use the “smile and nod” technique, play the “strong and silent” role, or chew gum.
Smile, this too shall pass.

Traitor- Torn in Two

Torn

Torn in two I ask myself

what did I do?

Not knowing how or when or why

but just cry

enjoyed the conversation at first

but now it hurts

and hurts and hurts…

Feel like I turned into a traitor

I’m now a stranger

not knowing the reason behind it all

did my soul call?

I ask myself what did I gain?

A heart that pains

and pains and pains…

Slowly see myself fade away

self, please stay

answer these questions for me, then go

I want to know.

Wishing to know, and hope I try

but slowly I die

and die and die…

– Dreams of a Blue Moon

The Frog Princess- Truth

via Image Writing Prompt #39

‘Are you a frog or a prince?’

‘A princess actually.’

‘I was just kidding I didn’t expect you to talk.’

‘Why not?’

‘This is not real!’

‘Define real’

‘Anything that is tangible. Anything we can use our senses to identify’

‘I beg to differ. There are intangible things that are real too. Things we know in our minds which cannot be clearly conceptualized’

‘Such as?’

’The truth’

‘Is the truth real?’

‘It depends. Is it my truth or your truth?’

‘My truth, of course.’

‘Your truth is real for you but that doesn’t necessarily mean it’s real for me’

‘Give me an example’

‘Flies, to me, taste good. This is the truth I reached have used my sense of taste. I don’t think you would prefer flies over whatever you had for breakfast this morning’

‘Why isn’t there one truth for us all?’

‘Because that means we have to conceptualize things the same way, but we don’t have the same senses nor do we share the same thoughts.’

‘How is it that we need to use our limited and subjective senses to conceptualize and define our personal intangible truth, and then hold onto it without questioning the lack of logic behind our theories? If we need to define the truth with our senses does it mean that our senses are superior to the truth?’

‘It means we are blessed with the tools to think but what we do with these tools are entirely up to us. Some people use these tools to live their days and some use these tools to find out more about what we are doing on this world and the truth we all seek.’

‘Do all living creatures seek the truth?’

‘Some already found their truths and are living happily’

‘What truth should we be looking for?’

‘A good truth to start searching for is why you stopped to talk to a frog? What truth are you coming from?’

‘Ah but that is not the question here, princess. The question is why do you consider yourself a princess where I can clearly see you as a frog’

‘Is that true?’

‘It’s true for me’

‘If I see myself as a princess then that’s my truth regardless of what you see’

‘You are a frog’

‘And you think so because you see that using your subjective biased and limited sight?’

‘Yes’

‘And you are basing your theory on your subjective, biased, and limited senses?’

‘Yes’

‘Then, my dear child، you have learned nothing’

A Man Of All Men

As I lay my children

down to sleep

and pray the lord

their souls to keep,

outside all mourners

dressed in black

chant and grieve

and cry and weep.

: :

For on these days

so long ago

our faith bestowed

Itself so deep,

a battle and swords

and hearts of gold

fighting to keep religion

alive and complete.

: :

Outnumbered they were

one thousand to one

it wasn’t so easy

in all of the heat,

no water to drink

no mercy at all

from the army that’s filled

with lies and deceit.

: :

A man of all men

pure of heart and descent

approached the enemies with kindness

asking for their retreat,

‘Kill me not,’ he said

I fear for your souls

for you: eternal happiness

paradise so sweet.

: :

Their answer was clear

they all aimed their spears

to child, to nephew

to all the elite,

murdering them all

in one afternoon brawl

assassins of darkness

of bloody conceit.

: :

Thinking with death

they will put out the light

that theirs was a simple

and easy defeat,

what they didn’t know

people will always recall

the story of a man,

his thirst, and the heat.

: :

A man of all men

pure of heart and descent

lived a life of virtue

against those who mistreat,

a man of all men

pure of heart and descent

lives on in our hearts

with a sacrifice so complete.

.

For more info on the battle, click the link: 
https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Battle_of_Karbala

When on Vacation- Buy Lollipops

Lollipop

 

lollipop
I love traveling.  Who doesn’t, right?  There are many ways in which you can turn your travel experience to better or worse.  Obviously, you must research where you are going, what you’re going to do, and what your budget is.  Who you’re traveling with is very important too because you don’t want to end up stuck with that person you can’t handle for ten days straight, right?

Well, this is the first time I travel with both of my children.  One is three and a half years old and the other is almost a year old.  Things were great, I didn’t expect to have some alone time, nor did I expect to have any free time to shower but, all in all, we created good memories.

Things I learned in this trip could be written in a book but this is a post about lollipops.  Let’s go back to 2009 when I visited Scotland (swoon, sigh, and nostalgic music). I loved every second in Edinburgh and my husband and I would go to St. Giles cathedral and order from their great selection of tarts. I would walk by everyday and see these big pieces of fudge staring at me. I mean, they would look at me walk by, like the Mona Lisa, I tell you!  There was a specific light brown piece which would practically beg to be bought but I never did thinking I’d come back for it.

I never did. (Heartbreaking, tears flowing down my face)

Do you understand, I never did.  I never got that piece of fudge and since 2009 and I regret it everyday!  I never knew what it tasted like, never knew how it would or wouldn’t crumble on my tongue, and I would never know its flavor.

And why’s that? Because I postponed buying it until the day I would travel and to my surprise St. Giles was closed.

Fast forward to 2017. My husband and I were pushing our children in their strollers in the airport and my three year old passes by a big lollipop and says he wants it.

We were running late and my husband refused so we went on.  The light brown fudge popped into my mind and gave me a knowing look, I knew what I had to do.

I held my ground and told my husband that we must buy it or else (OK, not really, I just offered to pay for the overpriced candy) and he lovingly obliged.

We were very late, my husband was very angry, but I got my little boy his candy so it doesn’t haunt him (and me) for the next ten years.

When on vacation, buy your lollipop.

The Man Who Buried 

Bury

He was known to bury his feelings. A great actor with a greater teacher. A teacher who taught him that when you were born and cried, your mother wasn’t there to hold and comfort you, for she abandoned you. A teacher who taught him that being bounced from foster home to another only meant friends changing and never settling in. A teacher who taught him that he is not wanted, a dog when families required puppies. 
 So it went on… a child living everyday wishing it was his last and not feeling anything because, come to think of it, why would he want to feel anything?
So he buried a piece of himself.
When He turned 18, he was given the opportunity to leave the home and find his way in the world so his teacher encouraged him to do so, just to slam every door in his face. It was difficult to find a job, any job, so he looked some more. Persisted and chose to bury all feelings of disappointment when he was turned down at interviews. Until he found a job that required him to work night shifts moving truckloads of trash away from civilization.
So he drove all the way out every night, and buried a piece of him. 
His life got better: the orphan boy who could. Many people invited him to their homes, it was a way his teacher showed him what he never had growing up but he still looked with curiosity. He buried all feelings of longing and envy.
His teacher taught him that there is a person out there for you when he met his girlfriend, then he found out that things can only get better… just to get worse. So all he did was bury a relationship before it ever became anything.
He buried his hopes and dreams of a family when he buried his heart. 
The more he learned, the more he grew.

 The more he grew, the more he buried.

Illusion

Illusion

He made sure that what he portrayed was just an illusion. He made sure that when he chose his next victim he would have things set out in order. The car, the shoes, the clothes. 
His name was Jack Carter, a professional illusionist who, in some ways, beats the best illusionists of this time. The only difference is he doesn’t make a big show to flaunt his skills, he makes sure to hide them.
What he does is plain and simple. He moves to a new town after researching his victims and starts stalking her. He watches her every move, studies her actions, likes and dislikes, her social circle, and other important points that help his attack.
He plays with his food before devouring it, makes sure that the temperature is just right, that the woman he chooses is ready to sell her soul to him. Of course, this courtship offer takes a few months but he’s been getting better at his illusion.
Either that or women are losing their sight.
He entered the town Chistal and drove to the East side in his black minivan: a car he once researched was the most used car around the eastern coast. He parked next to the conventional white piquet fence and watched as a woman in her early fifties walks out of the house for her daily walk. 

7:05 a.m, right on time dear Mrs. Robbins, he thought.



Jane Robbins was very attractive for her age. A tall, polished businesswoman who recently got divorced after a 25 year marriage. He stepped out of the car, making sure that his shoelaces are tied and started walking behind her, giving her just enough space to not realize that the illusion was about to start.
She power walked for the next few blocks and he started to gain speed. Only when she decided to take a bit of a break did Jack start his jog; he needed to break a bit of a sweat to compliment his act. 
He walked up to Jane out of breath. He knew that he looked very attractive with his black shorts and blue t-shirt, he also wore his fake Cartier watch especially for this encounter.
He treaded softly, approaching the bench with a big smile on his face. “Hello beautiful, nice day isn’t it? Do you mind if I sit down?”
Jane never knew what happened, never had a chance.
By the end of the year, she woke up one morning looking for her fiancé and found him gone, along with every penny she had. 

The Bridge

Writing prompt 240


He sat on the rail of the bridge watching the people cross, waiting for his next victim.

He didn’t know that he was being watched, followed from the second he stepped out of his house. He didn’t realize that there is someone who wanted to prove his methods were not up to par, not meticulous enough. He didn’t know that during his last attack, the single slip up was the reason he was now hunted.

Once a hunter, now hunted.

Hunted because he let the girl scratch his face and the police found the evidence of his DNA underneath her fingernails.

And now, he was no longer part of  the group. No longer welcomed.

Watching, he was being watched. Planning, his death was being planned, schemed.
The next day, newspapers read “the Bridge Serial Killer was Found Dead Beneath the Bridge.”
How ironic.

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