A. B. Clarke

Epiphany at the Fair

by abclarke

Some of us have moments of sharp clarity that, once known, change our lives forever. Where our view of the world is shown, through experience or through realization, to have been hitherto incomplete and inchoate. Where we are brought screaming into a new reality.

Our culture lionizes these moments of enlightenment — but in truth there is darkness to them. There are many masters, eyes now opened to the world, who wished with fervor they could but close their eyes once more — to put the thought formed, the knowledge gained, the epiphany realized, back in the box whence it came and throw away the key forever.

But alas, we cannot.

Once the revelation is upon us, we are changed. Our future actions are changed. Our friendships are changed.

This was the thought that ran through his mind, as he repeatedly banged his snout in remorse against the food hall table.

Oh, how he wished now he’d stuck with Piglet as they’d meandered the county fair together.

Oh, how he wished he’d stayed to play putt-putt with his best friend, rather than wander off to the food hall alone following his belly.

And, simultaneously crying and wiping the drool from the corner of his mouth, how Winnie the Pooh wished he’d hadn’t ordered, tasted for the first time, and then been transported into ecstasy by the honey-cured bacon they sold at the corner stand.

To My Lying, Stealing, Hurtful Temptress

by abclarke

Steal from me
A passing glance,
An idle fantasy,
A kiss inside a covered doorway as heavens shower outside.
Rob my loneliness like a midnight bandit.

Lead me astray
From myself
With dances of us,
Symphonies of we,
Conducted with your smile.

Lie to me.
Tell me that out of billions of stars, and billions of planets,
Of billions of places and billions of people,
Of multitude of multitudes,
You and I are destiny.

Hurt me.
Crush my hand when I’m sick.
Smother my fear when I’m lost.
Capture my joy as we age.
So if you die before me, I cry a thousand years.

A Collection of True Statements

by abclarke

You are alive.
You will die.
You are part of something larger.

You cannot do it alone.
You will not do it alone.
You will do it.

You are all alone.
We are all alone.
We are all alone, together.

(see A Collection of False Statements)

9 Word Tragedies (9)

by abclarke

Wandering
Wife
Works
Wiles,
While
Weak
Wretch
Weepingly
Wanks.

9 Word Tragedies (8)

by abclarke

Cabal
Committee
Carefully
Considers
Conclave
Costs;
Cheerlessly
Curtails
Conspiracy.

9 Word Tragedies (7)

by abclarke

Dionysius
Deviously
Desires
Damacles’
Demise.

Damn
Dagger
Disappointingly
Dangles.

9 Word Tragedies (6)

by abclarke

Early
Egret
Eyes
Earthworm.

Early
Elmer
Envisages
Eating
Egret.

9 Word Tragedies (5)

by abclarke

Parson
Protractedly
Pondering
Perfidious
Peoples’
Pleasures,
Petulantly
Proscribes
Providence.

9 Word Tragedies (4)

by abclarke

Guiltless
Gorgon
Girls

Grieving
Granite
Gentlemen

Gradually
Grasp
Grotesqueness.

9 Word Tragedies (3)

by abclarke

Markswoman
Misses
Mark,
Mistakenly
Massacring
Moppet.

Mother’s
Musket
Miscarriage.