Moving forward… creeping actually

Before I get into this week’s Three Word Wednesday I wanted to inform everyone that I am posting daily chapters from my book “Knickers Abroad; a multiple journey”. These excerpts are the travel narrative part from our trip to London and Paris in October of 2007. So far today’s chapter is number three of twenty so you have plenty of time to read over the next three weeks. You can find the page with the complete list of current and future chapters at this link.

3ww14

Earnest
Layer
Reactive

“High Society”

rich is all relative
so they say
a million
is only pocket change
these days

said with earnest words
barely scraping by
you should see
the next door neighbor
now there’s wealth piled high

it’s like a cake you see
first one layer
then the frosting
hardly enough
for all the players

we can’t understand
all the reactive fuss
trillions have been lost
only five homes
now for us

By Rose D Kaye, March 25th, 2009

Perfect words

Three Word Wednesday

3ww11

Cajole
Recluse
Temper

“Friends across the miles”

There is someone I know, several someones in fact, that prefer to be recluse. I don’t cajole and tempt with witticisms for doing so would be the height of hypocrisy; understanding my own nature far too well. My curiosity has both reached a temper and a place of suspension. But I know that my friends remain my friends. When will the changes I promised to myself occur? A question someone, several someones are asking as well.

By Rose D. Kaye, March 11th, 2009

Pour here for best results

Three Word Wednesday

3ww11

Disarray
Rabble
Validate

“First Date Jitters”

“I’ve said all along, and here’s where my thinking dovetails nicely with the reality of the current situation…”

“Which is?”

“The thinking or the current situation?”

“Both.”

“Well, the economic meltdown, crash, stumble, flame-out, you name it, that current situation.”

“Oh… I was wondering why this place was so empty.”

“Don’t you follow the news?”

“Not really. It’s all the same anyway. Opium for the rabble.”

“I think you mean ‘masses’.”

“Whatever.”

“Look, all I meant was that the current situation is based on systemic risk built into an economic model that rewards big thinking and bold initiatives. All this recession does is to validate the mandate that people are actually herd animals and prefer to follow someone with a strong personality.”

“Uh huh.”

“Let me show you. Let’s say this piece of steak is the president and these fries are the voters. Notice that the meat is rich and tender, lean yet flavorful. But the fries are all rigid, burnt and in disarray. They’ve been frozen, chopped and boiled in scalding oil.”

“Fascinating.”

“Exactly! So what does the ‘steak’ do to placate the ‘fries’?”

“I have no idea.”

“He pours gravy all over them and they go away happy.”

“Are you going to eat those?”

By Rose D. Kaye, February 11th, 2009

In the course of being earnest…

Three Word Wednesday

3ww14

Caress
Jagged
Ruthless

… it is usually best to prevaricate whenever possible. Truth is worshiped to the point of default. Much better to be a cynic.

“Quitting time”

For Ermondo ‘Ruthless’ Sanchez quitting time always brought a scowl to his squat and pug-nosed face. The ambient noise in the building gradually faded as the machines were turned off and the carrion packed their personal belongings. Not one of them dared meet his jagged glower when they furtively scurried past the security guard and out into the cool night air. Every single one of them was worthless offal and the fact that ‘Ruthless’ actually had to pay them and provide benefits caused a physical reaction not unlike being prodded by sharp power tools. He slammed his office door, punched the speed dial button number four and agitatedly paced while the speakerphone rang.

“Ms Fromagia’s office. How may I assist you?”

‘Ruthless’ hated the sound of the CEO’s private secretary; her voice was a caress from #40 sandpaper. It left you bleeding and clutching your ears.

“This is Sanchez. I need to speak to her.”

“One moment please.”

If I have to run this place one more day I’ll…

“Ermondo! It’s so nice to hear from you. How’s the weather out there?”

“I have no idea Stacey and I don’t care. You promised me if I took over this factory and made a profit you’d promote me to V.P. within six months. It’s been nine months and I want what’s mine. Get me out of here!”

“Calm down Ermondo. I know what I promised and soon you’ll get what you deserve. The board is very impressed by the numbers you’re generating and the substantial increase to the bottom line. In fact, they decided, just today, that a six-figure bonus is headed your way as we speak.”

“You think you can buy me off with money Stacey? Remember why I’m out in this dump in the first place? One more month and that’s final… or else I’ll be looking for a better offer.” Ermondo slapped the disconnect button, threw himself into his leather chair and brooded. “I mean it Stacey. Don’t mess with me.”

It was too bad Stacey mused as her driver deftly maneuvered through jagged early evening traffic. It really was a profitable factory, but sometimes it was better to cut your losses. Not that ‘Ruthless’ would be missed by anyone. Stacey glanced down and caressed the suckling infant. Not even by you little one. Not even by you.

By Rose D. Kaye, January 28th, 2009

Memory lapse

At Sunday Scribblings this week the prompt is Phantoms and Shadows or more specifically memory.

Memory is something I write about often and I even dreamed about this subject last night. We have a collective memory – at least now – and I dreamed it was a fondue pot. Everything that happens goes into the pot and each one of us can dip into the fondue to withdraw any memory we choose.

People have asked me what I remember and how do I function. As we’ve said time and again, we do not have clinical DID but are multiple personalities. The body is his but I/we borrow it on occasion. But I do not have memories that are strictly my own and neither does he. Everything for the last two and half years is stored differently, not a singular memory bank but a series of impressions hanging on the wall.

Memory of course is fallible and we take no notice of the past in terms of his/hers. We are not Sybil or Tara, someone who fractures into separate personalities under stress, but we are separate. Very separate. He ‘feels’ me as an individual ‘mind’ creating memories of her own but storing those recollections collectively. When I write he doesn’t go away, but rather steps aside so I can use the body to create.

I like who I am even though it is not ideal for any of us. He has to work and I want to write. The two desires are in conflict but we are not. Our memories of the results of conflict are uniformly bad and therefore serve as an effective deterrent against a power struggle for control. Our future memories want to be about success not failure.

Besides, we all know who’s the most popular personality here right?

By Rose D. Kaye, January 24th, 2009

Another late night

Three Word Wednesday

3ww13

Cadence
Humble
Resolve

Never a humble man, Sven the blacksmith frequently boasted that his forge was the hottest in the three provinces and his hammer the biggest and most well used. Standing a few inches below seven feet and with nearly three hundred pounds of muscle, when he swung the heavy hammer down onto the anvil, sparks flew in a shower of power. [Those were his lines of oft-repeated poetry during bouts of drinking and wenching in his favorite tavern.]

A man of huge talent and even huger appetites Sven rose before the sun to stoke the furnace and worked until well after sundown, his creased face then lit only by the glare of the dying embers. All throughout the day, the town’s streets rang with the steady cadence of metal on metal, punctuated occasionally with pungent and blasphemous oaths. For Sven lived his life as he worked, loud, long and filled with the satisfaction of creation. No timid soul was he, the only resolve he chose, was to take as much pleasure from hammering as he could.

[Certainly the many swelled bellies spoke to his success.]

By Rose D. Kaye, January 21st, 2009