mavschick41 commented on the post, Hour 20: Beginning of a story I will one day write 2 months, 2 weeks ago
I can’t speak for canfieje, but I would love to see the subsequent story that was spawned by this very vivid opening scene. Great job!
I have watched several of my family members battling this cruel disease, that strips you of not only who you are now but who you were or have been. And the toll it takes on the caregivers, the families, the nurturers — devastating. Like losing your loved one repeatedly, a twisted real life take on the movie Groundhog Day.
So heartbreaking, b…[Read more]
This one was especially true for me between about hours 4-22 this year. Even though I was writing I was struggling immensely to string together a coherent thought. Tried caffeine, tried alcohol, tried a hot shower, a hot meal, some cuddle time on the couch with my dogs. Nothing was working. Tried a mini power nap even. Eventually had to power…[Read more]
I am in awe of your talent. I’ve been sort of skimming through reading random posts of yours and while many are grotesque and dark and twisted (not that any of those things bothers me), these are also fascinating to read and take my mind to places I might dream of venturing but in reality, never would. Thanks for sharing.
As simple as Micropoem 2 is, it is also very profound. Plus honestly I think we all have times when we can’t seem to find even the smallest sliver of light peeking through our own personal valleys of darkness, and we need to be reminded we carry it with us, it doesn’t have to be found from any external light source.
Thank you so much! My friend of 20 years passed away (she was only 51) and her memorial was on Thursday and her daughter was so distraught, it just tore at my heart. but I could easily hear this conversation taking place between the two of them.
I am so sorry it took me so long to get everything posted, but between needing at least a couple hours of sleep, working unexpected overtime, and the crappiest, most cutting-outest internet connection since the web was invented, it took this long to get them all online. I would email you but i am not sure which email address i need to send this…[Read more]
Mr. Fix It
If it’s broken, he’ll
repair it, make it better
than brand new. He’ll
put the pieces back together,
unless you’re what fell apart.
(A tanka is a five line poem with the s […]
Hips Don’t Lie But Your Eyes Do
I saw the
in your eyes,
heard your heartbeat
she walked by.
You once looked
Keep Going, Granny
Lightning flashed and thunder cracked as the skies split open up above us, leaving our last line of defense (the weathered windshield wipers) rendered useless against the raging of the […]
Love this image: “where blackened asphalt blended with the darkness of the skies, growing ever deeper.”
I know the feeling of fear when driving in those conditions. You’ve captured that fear and tension well! The ending — “I can still see” is perfect!
Oh, I love that confidence expressed by a 6 year old. Well written with the story giving more words to the fears of granny and her sister, and then finalizing that story with the confidence in granny and self in words that are short and sweet. ☺
We wander this world with phones in hand
forever looking down, getting
lost inside the screen, afraid
to miss one message, we
never lift our eyes
to drink in t […]
When poetry paints reality so well.
This is really well said about reality. The form mirrors the disappearing of human contact. Well done!
I appreciate the imagery and the introduction to the form.
The image this creates is perfect.
yes i like how this one currently depicts the state of communication. its so impersonal and become so technological.
I can’t add a new idea to the comments, but I could not resist adding another, “good work!”
black and blue
two less teeth
that’s the price
she had paid
to be free
(A tricube is a poem made up of thr […]
The Birth of a Rhythm Nation
warrior of words
(A lune is an Americanized version of traditional Japanese haiku which consists of three lines with syllabic count of 5/3/5).
The Comfort Zone
I’ve never been the kind of gal
who freely gives her hugs away.
But when I can sense someone is
struggling, heart heavy with sorrow,
my instincts trump anxieties
and antisocial […]
The Power of Fifty
thought fifty was a
lot until they told
me that was all who could mourn Mother.
(A four line poem is made up of four lines with a syllable count of 1/5/5/9).
Fit for a Queen
(A Sendoff in Royal Purple)
lilies fell from
Heaven like a purple
pimp explosion, coating her
(A cinquain is a five line poem where the lines have a syl […]
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