for Magpie Tales, Writing

Magpie Mondays: A Disguised Blessing

photo by Agustin Berrocal

 

The old, cranky lawyer had knocked on his door,

the will, the testament of his half-brother has been probated.

Luxury cars and the Caribbean was on his mind,

Resigned he did from his current job,

for he believed a thousand bucks would be a penny after this day.

So off he drove to his brother’s mansion,

with the old, cranky lawyer as his companion.

He was led to this half-opened elegantly furnished door,

from the edges of which golden beams escaped.

He couldn’t contain the excitement that his heart carries

and rushed towards the light source.

He grabbed one egg and felt that something is quite not right.

The egg had little craters and weren’t fragile at all.

The old, cranky lawyer whispered,

“He said you loved french fries,” and he walked snickering,

“Don’t count your golden eggs before they hatch, my boy for they might not be eggs at all.”

 

**Written for the Magpie Tales

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Prose Poetry

If You’d Like to Date Me, Throw Me a Disc

via

If you want to date me, I want to see you play the field first. And, by field I mean, a grassy one. Maybe sandy. Or muddy.

I’d like to see the way you run, the way you change your course as your gut tells you to.

I’d like to know if you can keep your balance when you hit the ground after a great jump catch.

I’d like to know if you can quickly react when your game plan and the actual play opposes and crashes down all your hopes.

I’d like to see you lose yourself all in the name of Ultimate.

 

I’d like to see you in your most dominant state.

I’d like to see you in a jersey, a chance when you can exhibit all your masculinity, your field-length pools and your sharp cuts and blocks.

I’d like to see your jaws clench and fists curl every time something slips off that would cause you your team’s winning.

I’d like to see you push yourself to the limits.

 

I’d like to see you in most pressing situations.

I’d like to see how you cool your head despite the scorching heat, the consuming thirst, some minor setbacks and injuries.

I’d like to know how you’d handle a hotheaded opponent.

I’d like to know how you’d take in a misjudged foul called in by the one guarding you.

 

I’d like to see you in a victorious battle.

I’d want to know how your lips curve into a smile whenever you credit for a stat.

I’d want to see you humble down when they praise you.

I’d want to see how you deal with compelling glee brought about by each score and/or winning.

 

I’d like to see you at the sidelines.

I’d like to know how you support your teammates.

I’d like to watch you catch your breath and gulp down a bottle of water.

I’d like to see you sweat up close. (haha!)

And, I’d like to check if you’re checking out those chicks in sport bras and short shorts.

 

I’d like you to come play with me.

I’d like to know how good you can catch my forehand throws.

I’d want to know how much pressure you’d apply when you throw a disc to me.

I’d like to know if you trust me enough to throw a disc to me during a game.

I’d like to know if you’ll cut for me, call my name and catch my throw.

I’d like to know if you can handle me. Or if I can handle you.

If you’d like to date me, throw me a disc.

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