Thursday October 2nd, 2014

The exercise:

Write about: the judge.

With Kat going on a hike with her students late this afternoon and then staying for a potluck dinner and vision meeting with the families, I was in charge of keeping Max alive from shortly after he went down for his nap until about 8 o'clock this evening.

Which would have been much more manageable if he'd slept for more than half an hour. Stupid cold clogging up his nose.

I had to resort to using frozen blueberries to bribe him into being in a good mood, but after that things went pretty well. We watched videos, kicked balls around on the deck, went visiting grandma and grandpa in the orchard, and shared an apple in the fall sunshine:


Now we're just hoping for a reasonable night's sleep for all of us.

Mine:

"This is a tough one, Mitch."

"It is, Judge?"

"Absolutely. Lots of things to consider from both of those fine young lawyers."

"I thought it was pretty clear myself, Judge. You know, one of them open and shut dealies?"

"Well, that's just one more reason you'll never be behind the bench."

"That's okay by me, Judge. I like being a bailiff just fine."

"No ambition. No ambition whatsoever."

"What's that, Judge? I couldn't quite make out your grumblings there."

"I was telling you to order another couple of pizzas, Mitch. It's going to be a long afternoon of deliberating."

3 Comments:

ivybennet said...

Lighter than a feather?
Or heavy as if stone?
I stand in front of him as my
Sins and virtues
Are measured as if they are grains
Of a powder on the precipice of the solution.
He makes a check, then an x.
Check. X.
Check. Check. X.
Check. X. X. X. X.
But he was never there. He never had to choose.
Who is he to judge what I did,
What I had to do?

Greg said...

That's a lovely picture, though Max looks as though he thinks you're planning on stealing his apple. If he were a dog I'd be expecting him to be ready to leap up, run away, and bury the apple somewhere safe. And it sounds like a pretty good day despite the illness, so that's something at least :)
How did Kat's potluck go? Was the food good?
Hmm, I really like Mitch's attitude about where he is life and where he wants to be. That's refreshing and quite upbeat (I'm writing this after you punished your characters from tomorrow though, so there may be an element of contrasting going on here). The conversation feels natural too, and nicely done. I might be curious to see where these guys are going to go next.

The Judge
A silence found only in empty hearts pervades
the shadow-strewn great hall where an Angel sits.
His seat is made of stone from which suicides have jumped,
and touching it is like licking batteries:
a taste of lemon and then a shock
that rocks you to the core
and questions who you are.

His hands are alabaster white and his skin sparkles with stars
as though he embodies darkest night. He already knows
what you're hiding, what you thought you might sneak by with.
He judges impartially, measuring
you against a yard-stick you can barely see,
holds you up against an ideal
that you can neither see nor feel

And when he sets you down again you hear the answer in your soul
...whether you will be torn asunder, or allowed to go on, whole.

Marc said...

Ivybennet - very intriguing poem, leaves me wanting to know more. Some great imagery, especially the reference to the powder and the solution.

Greg - he is giving me a bit of a glare there, isn't he? :P

Fantastic imagery in this one, I really enjoyed it. Great details strewn throughout, as usual.