Myrrha

Photo courtesy and copyright property of Roger Bultot, provided for the express purpose of prompting Rochelle Wisoff-FieldsFriday Fictioneers drabbling community. Other works of 100 words may be found and/or contributed here.

The tree is knotted with tears.
They smell as bitter as they appear,
gobs of gummed up sorrow
that failed to fall
past an empty, round swell.
The yawning hollow’s warm
and miserable, beautiful
and tragic — a product of misshaped affection.

I want to climb inside, but can’t
figure out my own dimensions.

Myrrha, could you have been
as disastrous as Orpheus sang?
He tried to defy death
in the name of his love
before being rent into islands
by a scorned forest of women.
Only then did he know Eurydice again,

when vines and bark climbed
over our hollows.

A Splash Quite Unnoticed

Landscape with the Fall of Icarus, presumed to originally be a work by Pieter Bruegel the Elder (Public Domain)

Bruegel’s shoreline was too civilized for concern. If Icarus metamorphosed in that moment, who’d have noticed?

Waves licking my lantern, I goad his ambition. But fluorescent refractions won’t coax his wax-slick fins to surface. The illimitable ocean depths suit his outsized desires and the myths of unseen suffering.

Calliope; Writer’s Block; and Recovery (Three Haiku)

Calliope

Calliope bears
the memories of heroes
in her clay tablet.

Writer’s Block

Ink-stained pearl surface:
the drowning of a drained pen —
my spent muse laments.

Recovery

|         ink-stained                       pearl                                  surface
|                    hand          wrenched free, discovered           warps
|             bleeding                                     muse                       allayed


Written for Ronovan Writes’ Haiku Challenge, based on the prompts “muse” and “pen.” Coincidentally, I was researching the Muses for another piece before seeing this prompt; Calliope felt like a necessary subject for this considering that her emblem is a writing tablet. (Okay, that’s not a pen, but hopefully it’s regarded as thematically related.)

Apple of Discord (Καλλίστη)

Paris pilfered his pledged Helen
after awarding Aphrodite an apple —
thus was civilization turned to cinders.
10 years, 1,000 ships, countless men and boys:
passed, sailed, speared
during epic tales of strife
as Olympus looked on, manipulating
their mortal, fragile, replaceable playthings.