Today is the final chapter of the story, Manifestation. I decided to create a collage to illustrate the concept of the last chapter. Looking through the landscape images first, then to the fitting image of the goddess, I pulled out possible candidates. A fellow blogger, hanspostcard , had posted something about Gordon Lightfoot, so I… Continue reading Poetry — Manifestation Final Chapter
Category: horror
Father John (content warning)
image link The following is drawn loosely from a documentary I saw and from watching scary movies. Please be warned there is disturbing content and imagery that may be triggering. The elderly priest shuffles down the stone path, carefully balancing with his cane, which is carved with the long-suffering face of a blood-soaked, thorn-crowned… Continue reading Father John (content warning)
No Such Thing Part 2
image link Left hemisphere seized up No grease Sand in the gears Amygdala sensory alert Walking into the aftermath of the maelstrom The tinkling echoes of 10,000 shards of glass Pastel and clear confetti Embedded in the carpet Like IEDs for unwary tender feet, It will be a long time before skin Touches the floor.… Continue reading No Such Thing Part 2
The Daily Prompt — Dancing
image link Her head held high Her arms braiding, then “essing”, As her lithe trunk sways, to and fro To the hypnotic notes of the clarinet. Practiced she is, in the arts of dancing, Holding every eye, except her own, fixed and rapt, With her plush, yet muscled undulations. Her eyes were just as… Continue reading The Daily Prompt — Dancing
Day 29 — OctWriPoMo — TAP TAP!
image link Taken directly from the shadow poetry website: This form is "Synchronicity" (The state or fact of being synchronous or simultaneous; synchronism. Coincidence of events that seem to be meaningfully related.). This form consists of eight three-line stanzas in a syllable pattern of 8/8/2. This poetry type has no rhyme and is written in… Continue reading Day 29 — OctWriPoMo — TAP TAP!
Peculiar
image link Walking into the private military club in the small town a half-hour north, my old middle-school friend, who said I would know her by the poppies on her shirt, jumped up to greet us. We’d reconnected after bumping into each other at the store a while ago and traded facebook handles. She’d invited… Continue reading Peculiar
Black Sheep
Looking through my library this morning, I came across a letter and some poetry a friend of mine sent me back in 1995, shortly after my father passed away. It triggered an emotional response that there is space to allow its full expression. Many times these triggers cannot be but fleetingly acknowledged, as they are… Continue reading Black Sheep
