Life Foundation

Att the core of every one of us
Lies the pattern stamped on us
How love and worth descend on us

Where you taught it’s the birthright of us all
Everyone a little bundle of love and joy to us all
A soul come to share it’s light with us all

Or where you raised in a dysfunctional way
Learning false love the transactional way
Exist only and just as they say, otherwise they’ll take their love away

© RedCat

Part of my mind says this piece is only half finished, but my heart says that was all the honest outpouring it could take right now, and that it still have purpose and meaning.

Mayhap there will be a second version one day…

Inspired by Weekly Scribblings #34: Foundation over at Poets and Storytellers United.

Freight Train Nine

For nine years, time stretched our longing into a freight train of stored emotions.

Today, nine seconds of longing is too long. Our passion, a runaway freight train of unshared devotions.

Nine nights in eachothers embrace, touch longing replace. Not even such a freight train stretch can slake our lust’s rhythmic explosions.


Written for today’s challenge prompt at Go Dog Go. Three words, freight train, longing, nine. I enjoy this “flash prompt”. Writing the first thing that pops up, and only for a maximum of fifteen minutes.

It’s fun, challenging, and allow you to find new ways to write.

Bumbling Bumblebee

Blenda the bumptious bumkin bumblebee bumbled back and forth bumming nectar from bees.

Before long, the bees barrelled and bumped into Blenda. “Back away from our blossoms”, they buzzed.

Boring bees, a bummed out Blenda thought. Perchance the botanist holds a bumbling bumblebee beloved.

© RedCat

Quadrille Monday over at dVerse. And I went a bit bananas with the word bum in a myriad forms.

(Another post today from app rather then browser, so more formatting errors.)


If parental love and support always lacked

If abuse and neglect was an everyday fact
A child’s mind and soul is under attack

Natural behavior patterns are reprogrammed and hacked
All so the abuser can life force extract

A new life’s love and joy ransacked
Growing up learning love is a transactional act

Darkness no sunlight can counteract 
A planet busters impact

No child can survive intact

Inspiered by this weekends prompt.

(Published via iPad, will fix formatting later)

Human Missconceptions

Art by helldivo at DeviantArt 

We see trees to fell

We fail to hear the stories a forest can tell

Timber to count

Of life giving life, until we come Gaia’s fount

Land to clear

Rebirth and renewal every year

Fields to sow

How nature nothing away throws

We see nature as something to tame

Our beloved planet will never be the same

We must learn, or live in man made hell
Teach each other to hard challenges surmount
Learn to hold our only planet dear
Accept that to some laws of nature we must bow
Because if Earth dies beneath our feet, we only got ourselves to blame

© RedCat

Inspiered by the beautiful artwork shared by The Sunday Muse.

Also posted to Writers’ Pantry #34 at Poets and Storytellers United.


Fog Obliterated Dawn


Fog obliterated dawn. In our ten years, we’d never seen mist like this. Muffling the world like a thick snowfall. A person at arm’s length, just a blur.

Eagerly, we set out across the meadow. Talking loudly, to show the fog we feared it not.

Suddenly it loomed. Big and dark. Stopping us cold.
The old mansion, so pale and unassuming in the sunlight.

Silently we crept up the porch. The old house creaking and sighing around us.

An icy gust made something keen.
A chair moves.
A white shape seen through the windows.
Billowing fabric.
Coming closer.

We ran.

© RedCat

Click here to read other stories by me.

Click on the frog for more storys inspired by this weeks picture.

Depressed Diet

Panic-attack by George Grie

As the sun slowly rise
I wake, from dreams of my demise
Anxieties of every kind
Flooding through my mind
For breakfast, there’s the usual dark potion
Full of self loathing and suicidal ideation
During the day there’s the usual snacks
Triggers and hailing panic attacks
Lunch is often light
Too stressed to eat a bite
When it’s time for afternoon tea
All I wanna do is run and flee
In the evening I swallow screams for dinner
My soul-thread growing ever thinner
At night, alone in the dark, I despair
Waiting to be taken by sweat-soaking nightmares

Photo by Johannes Plenio from Pexels

Written for Weekly Scribblings #33 at Poets and Storytellers United. Where we’re invited to to write new poetry or prose which includes the phrase “swallow screams for dinner” from C. Sandlin’s poem, “Telling Stories

Come, set sail

Come set sail
We’re going to sea
Curious adventure never fail
A need to explore and see

Come set sail
We’re going to sea
We’ll search for a fresh gale
Our souls year to be free

Come set sail
We’re going to sea
We’ll find new fairytales
New deities to plea

Come set sail
We’re going to sea
When we’re only bones pale
Our grandchildren lives over the sea

Nasjonalbiblioteket from Norway / CC BY

In today’s Poetics at dVerse, we’re invited to Come sail. I spent my first years close to the five locks of Borenshult and one of Sweden’s large lakes Vättern, then grew up among the myriad of brooks, streams, rivers, tarnes and lakes in the woods of Bergslagen. Before moving to the Baltic Sea coast.

Let’s just say,
I adore water.
Fresh spring and salty sea.
However-much she sways!


My favorite getaway (do you remember those?) has long been a stay on a Dutch canal-boat or houseboat. I had planned a writing weekend this summer, but we all know what came of everyone’s plans this year.

I’ve never been on a narrowboat, but if this pandemic ever ends I would love to try.

User:Artifex / Public domain

Website Built with

Up ↑