Click on photos to enlarge.
For the Weekly Prompt: Frame
The Lake Chapala, Mexico area where this apartment building has been going up for over a year is home to the largest group of American and Canadian expats in the world—most of them over 60 years old. That taken into account, I don’t think its sign sends the correct message to their targeted renters. I’m sure the name “Last Apartments” is a rather unfortunate translation of “Ultimos Departamentos,” and for the superstitious, it is definitely not a great selling point. (Most probably, their intention was to convey that they will be the latest or best in design, but the translation from Spanish to English leaves the impression that no renter will be leaving the premises alive!)
Please post your own example of unfortunate signage on your blog, pingback to this page and use the tag “Unfortunate Signage.”
The Tin Man Talks to His Creator
I’m just a “thing” made out of metal,
stovepipe legs, my head a kettle.
When it rains, I rust apart
and so expose my lack of heart.
It is no mystery, no riddle
that I’m empty in the middle.
Some say a heart is of no use.
It is a trap. It is a noose.
It is an organ of abuse,
at best of times, merely a truce
in the battle of the sexes
between them and all their exes.
They say, “When born without a heart,
there’s nothing there to tear apart!”
Yet still I feel that all that pain
would not, could not, be in vain.
I’d bear the sadness for the start
of love that I’d feel with a heart.
And so, I pine and wish and stew
that I might be born anew
with a beating corazon
so I’d not feel so alone,
and though I would be made of tin,
that living heart that pulsed within
would let me feel at last what they
take for granted every day.
What care I that I fall to dust
if I could love before I rust?
Once more, I pray to my creator,
to that great procrastinator.
I ask again to have a heart—
what I’ve asked for from the start.
I say, “The pain, without a doubt,
can’t be worse than going without.”
Then that Great Tinsmith in the sky
looks me firmly in the eye
so the truth I cannot miss
as he gently tells me this:
“A heart’s not something I can bestow.
It is a thing you have to grow.”
Did you mother tell you not to point? Well, you’re all grown up now and I’m telling you you can point all you want to. From pointed toes to pointed comments, this is your place to express yourself. Photos or words or both—all interpretations of the prompt are acceptable. The prompt is open until June 30, 2019. Please put a pingback on your post to lead your readers back here to see the posts of others or perhaps to join in themselves as well as putting a link on this page in comments so we can see your post. Be sure your pingback works as they may need to be done manually. Hop aboard! We’re off to all points north, south, east and west.