I love to write poetry. I started writing flash fiction here, too, and it’s helping me improve. I also love to read different kinds of fiction from George Eliot to Suzanne Collins, or poetry from Robert Frost to Terrance Hayes.
I love to write poetry. I started writing flash fiction here, too, and it’s helping me improve. I also love to read different kinds of fiction from George Eliot to Suzanne Collins, or poetry from Robert Frost to Terrance Hayes.
When I see your eyes
Fill with love, no disguise,
Turn my way
To make my day,
I turn to you, my only one,
Like a flower to the sun
I open to you,
I smile for you,
Because of you,
Love comes shining through
Every cloud
And shouts out loud
To fill my quiet
With a riot
Of delight,
Then, in the night
A fire burns,
Our passion churns
We are hungry for completion
Then completely won
Over to our love
Fro...
One morning Toby Freedman received a phone call that would change the course of someone’s life. The ID was unfamiliar. He almost didn’t answer.
“Hello.”
“Toby? It’s Allison.”
She sounded distressed. Did she know about mom? “Allison, I needed to talk to you two years ago!”
“I’m sorry. I don’t have my own phone, and they don’t like me to use this landline. It’s for their business.”
He could ...
Ayame Weber ordered an apple maple tea latte from City Bakery in Tokyo, Japan. She was a Japanese/German American visiting her mother’s homeland for the first time as an adult. She felt right at home in the bakery with its warm light and enticing smells of bread, cinnamon, and coffee. Hurriedly, she picked a seat in the corner, eager to write in her blog.
_“One by one, they’ll hear my call, then...
There are horses made of shadows,
winged with the breadth of nightmares,
that poets fly over the chasm of the void.
I see them in the peripheral
as I try to capture meaning from inspiration,
their eyes wild, their nostril red with the effort
of running after what is real.
Sometimes, when I just don’t get it,
I ride one beyond what can be known.
I lasso it with the silver string of my soul,
mount ...
Lullaby, my sweet baby,
May the stars in your eyes
Make you reach for the skies
Go to sleep, my sweet baby,
May the night’s gentle grace
Wrap you in love’s embrace
When you wake, my sweet baby,
May you grow and you play
Happy with us each day
As you love, my sweet baby,
May you give it your all
As you hear life’s best call
When you’re grown, my sweet baby,
May you hold in your heart
Those who’...
You gather them round, and you talk real square
‘til you get them hooked. Then, you make a dare
balled of everyone’s dreams to get ahead,
while you seem as good and safe as a loaf of bread.
You sell them your service, your investment, your pitch.
They buy it to pull themselves up from the ditch.
You’re standing on top of their shoulders to seem
Better than them in your pyramid scheme....
It’s hard to be inconspicuous
when you’re hanging upside down,
and not to trip the suspicious
nature of folks in the old part of town.
They go out looking for monsters.
She’s just a werewolf stretching her back,
while they’re like a bunch of mobsters
who will organize their attack.
So she swung out of the tree
before they saw her teeth or fur,
and let out a howl, lonely but free
under the shade...
She fell into her hourglass of sand
to find the sidewalks gone,
the house abandoned
to some big shake-up
by the hand of God,
the desert creeping
into everything, until she
woke herself out of the glass,
shook off the nightmare
of being overwhelmed,
picked up a broom and swept
her own footprints away
as if she was the desert wind....
Siobhan and Michael first met while waiting in the tour group in front of the Temple Of Silver. He was a lean and graceful man standing with his hands in his slacks, listening to the guide tell them that the intricately carved gate to the labyrinth was silver-plated and had to be cleaned frequently, symbolizing the need to clean the body and the mind. She asked him to take a picture of her in fron...
To learn the ropes of sanity
Among the flowers of the strange
Innocence of humanity,
I wonder down the rabbit hole,
Told by the sun I’ll make it back,
No worries, if that is my goal.
I do count on that to be true
All in a golden afternoon,
Under the skies of cloudless blue....