Monday, February 28, 2011

Microfiction Monday #72: Disgruntled

Never an easy moment on this job

Always hidden under the pillow, teeth are

Let’s see how the wee brats
 appreciate it when I hide their coins


Sunday, February 27, 2011

Sunday 160: Dream #2 - Keeping Secrets

fearing her secrets would soon be discovered

she worked diligently to hide bottles of wine

and private mementos from her past

along the roller coaster’s wild path 


I'm participating in Monkey Man's weekly meme 
where the point is to write a piece
in exactly 160 characters (spaces included) 
I am finding this is the perfect platform 
to share bits and snippets of my dreams
as I walk my life's journey.  

Thursday, February 24, 2011

Alphabe-Thursday: T is for Temptation

temptation tickles,
terminally teases

tentacles thrust forth,
tethers heart...
thy tourniquet squeezes

transfused...tender toxins 
trickle, temper, 
tamper self will

with transient thrills

taken, entrapped,
thy tenacious grip,
though tight, enchants

tantalized, I tremble,
my testimony
to thy every glance


Jenny Matlock

Sunday, February 20, 2011

Microfiction Monday #71: The Cleanse

Warning: The following Micro-Fiction contains 
uncharacteristic "potty humor".
Proceed at your own risk,
and please forgive me!

The hospital had no choice but to call a "Code Brown"
for there is NOTHING like
a pharmaceutical grade colon cleanse
to clear out the place!


Sunday 160: Winter's Respite

1st spring like day
after winter’s chill

sunshine’s warmth
upon the flesh

gentle breezes
scented with fragrance
of budding dogwoods

ice cream

promise of spring


For more monkey-shines please visit my friend the Monkey Man

Saturday, February 19, 2011

Saturday Centus: After the Silence

Ms. Jenny's prompt this week is from the Bruno Mars song, "Grenade". My 100 word prose is wrapped around the prompt, bolded and highlighted in green, below. Please feel free to critique in your comments else am I going to learn? Enjoy.


Once upon
this life of mine
there was his promise.
Promises of love,
of hope spoken
in soft gentle voice,
of dreams yet to be fulfilled.
I laughed through tears
when he burst out in song
and sang sweetly to me,
“I’d even catch a grenade for ya!”
I believed him.
Reality set in.
The silence is deafening.
Soundless shouts erupt
from my heart,
loudly, clearly.
I listen to inner truth.
Wisdom gained
through epiphany
that no one,
not even him,
can catch that grenade
while wandering through
personal minefields
battling demons of their own.
My first step towards healing.


Jenny Matlock

Friday, February 18, 2011

Flash Friday 55: The Apology

Poetry is what it is.
Word play
eliciting emotions:
some pleasant,
some not.

Is every prose truth?
Possibly not.
Doesn’t matter.

Maybe, just maybe,
those string of words,
that particular phrase
are therapy for both
poet and reader.

the direction
of yesterday’s
the sensitive subject matter,
offended some.
For that I apologize.


Wednesday, February 16, 2011

Alphabe-Thursday: S is for Surrender

(Warning: the following contains subject matter that may be sensitive to some)

surrendering unto silence
in stillness of night…

slowly stepping
into room
my room 
sanctuary no more
he sits upon my bed
staring at my small frame
I feign sleep
he begins
stroking my hair
shutting, squeezing
eyes ever tighter
using his strength
to subdue me
into submission
tears streaming down
these cheeks
scarcely giving solace
to muffled screams of shame
seductress at six
then shushing me
saying that this
shall be our little secret
the little secret
ever since
stretching, swelling, spreading
enslaving me
unto its strangled hold
until now
seeds sowed so long ago
slowly rising
as snowy snippets
in dreams
and hazy memories
buying freedom as I am

...surrendering unto silence
in stillness of night


Jenny Matlock

Monday, February 14, 2011

Microfiction Monday #70:

You, sir, are no gentleman

Why do you say that?

Your linen shirt and waistcoat
cannot conceal the fact that
you forgot to remove
your corset



Can you write a short story or prose
to a photo prompt
in only 140 characters? 
Please click on the link above 
to view other entries 
in Stony River's weekly meme.

Sunday, February 13, 2011

Sunday 160: Basement Dream #1

The basement was cold

Barefoot, I stepped

onto the damp, dusty, dirt floor

There she was

back by the washing machines

in the darkened corner

hanging dolls up to dry


I'm participating in Monkey Man's "Sunday 160" where the point is to write a piece in exactly 160 characters (spaces included). This week I've decided to use the platform to document a snippet of a dream I had last summer. 

Saturday, February 12, 2011

Saturday Centus: Be My Valentine

Oh my! Our dear Ms. Jenny decided today's Centus should have a twist. In honor of Valentine's Day, we are to compose, in 50 words or less, a Hallmark card style post based upon the photo prompt. Oh dear, I don't know about this. Regardless, here's my attempt. Please be kind.

Let me be your wonder woman
Let me be your girl
Allow me to sniff your butt
Let’s give love a whirl!

I promise not to nibble
Slippers or your shoes
Nor eat from the litter box
Upon your love I’ll chew!

(42 words)


Jenny Matlock

To view much better works than this, please click on the link above.

Friday, February 11, 2011

Alphabe-Thursday-Flash Friday 55: R is for Rebirth

slowly revealed

filled with rage

Reaching back further…
recalling those 
long repressed

Without remorse,
or urge to run,
memories are resurrected

Whether real or revised
doesn’t matter, 
for the resentments 
hold me ransom

not through retaliation,
but through resolve:
bondage’s grip



Jenny Matlock

Monday, February 7, 2011

Microfiction Monday #69: The Time Turner



The time-turner placed
Harry & Hermione
back to the beginning of their
magical adventure at
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry


Sunday, February 6, 2011

Sunday 160: The Burning Bush

Rounding the corner
we came upon what was once
a burning bush

Sparks still arise
from the smoldering embers.

I watched in awe
as my friend
retrieved the garden hose. 


I've been writing my dream snippets as part of my daily Facebook status. Last night's dream made for a perfect 160. For more 160 fun, please visit my pal, The Monkey Man for more entries and rules to this weekly micro-writing exercise. 

Saturday, February 5, 2011

Saturday Centus: Two for One!

Last week I was at work when our dear Ms. Jenny posted a wonderful story prompt. She was heavy in my thoughts as I penned this little100 word story (taking place FAR into the future). The prompt is in red

The elderly woman shuffled towards the old shed she used for storage. She was grateful that she needn’t worry about inclement weather destroying her possessions as the hot Arizona sun beat down upon her bent frame.  She stepped through the creaky door into the stuffy interior. She spied the trunk. Fumbling with the old skeleton key on a chain around her neck she unlocked and raised its lid. There they were. She lifted the stack of letters from the ancient chest. Smiling she began to read:  “A is for…”

And that is where her children found her the next day. 

(In no way was this meant to be morbid but rather an honor to the woman whose memes helped me find my inner voice and strength through the alphabet!)


And the following is this week’s essay. Consider it my little 100 word public service announcement. The prompt is in blue

She knew she needed to leave it alone, let it go its course, but she couldn’t stand it. She couldn’t help herself. She had a date that night and didn’t want that monstrosity remaining on the tip of her nose. So she did what any naive 17 year old would do. She squeezed and picked at the darn thing.  Unfortunately for her, this was no ordinary pimple. It was infected. MRSA to be exact.  It was growing bigger by the minute. She missed out on that date as she was rushed to the hospital with a severe case of cellulitis. 

I am sorry for the "Ewww" factor of this particular story. Please, however, visit the following links for further information on MRSA or cellulitis.


Jenny Matlock

Wednesday, February 2, 2011

Alphabe-Thursday: Q is for Quarrel


quickly ignites

fueled by quarried mem’ries.

Queasy with fear, querulous, they

squirm with qualm beneath weight of status quo

finding themselves in quandary:

continue healing quest

or quell inner



I am in the process of some very personal and difficult work encompassing the physical, emotional, and spiritual aspects of my life. As I am changing, relationship dynamics cannot help but change as well, be it with family or friends. Sometimes, when things appear particularly difficult, I think it would be so simple, so easy to just go back to "how I was" or "how it was". But I know I cannot. For I have had glimpses of the fruit of this labor. Even though this work is hard and fraught with fear, as long as I continue to grab the hand of God, allowing His will to be done, the healing will come. This poem is how doubt, ever cunning, can creep in stirring internal anxiety. 


Jenny Matlock


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