Jim Adams is the dynamic host of Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie’s Music Challenge. Jim says: The challenge today is to focus on [Cat Stevens’ song, Where do the Children Play] and use it for inspiration in any form of creative expression (including but not limited to short stories, a piece of flash fiction, poems, lyrics, artwork, photography,…
Category: poetry
Thursday Inspiration 22 — The Lass on the Iron Horse Headed West
“I’ve been high, I’ve been low, I’ve been yes, and I’ve been oh, hell no! I’ve been rock ‘n roll and disco, Won’t you save me San Francisco?” –”Save me Sanfrancisco”, by Train Daddy done touched me one last time I thought as I hopped on the Western Line Curled in a boxcar with a…
Twittering Tales #154 — Reverie
Photo by Tama66 at Pixabay.com A loyal shipping trunk’s reverie: How many ports have Tess and I met? How many sailors’ songs? How many dreams sailed with the wind? How many drowned in a storm? How many dresses packed away? How many lovers gone? Now tired & battered, How many more before we can rest…
dVerse — Over: Justice’ Arbiter
I got the text on an ordinary morning, saying he was in jail. They didn’t know for what only that he showed up on the log. I called his stepmother to find out the scoop. She asked, “You didn’t see the headlines?” “No,” as an invisible hand clenched my throat; Skittering to the computer, I…
dVerse — prosery 4 — memories with the trees
She was born there in that cabin, at the edge of the tree line. Mama was a God-fearing woman who never missed church on Sunday and who took washing in from the houses on the hill. Daddy was a hard-working sharecropper who grew just enough to keep his family alive from harvest to harvest. She…
Bug-eyed — dVerse OLN
Autumn’s chance meeting Eyeing each other, agog Under cloudy skies Lillian is the host of dVerse‘ Open Link Night. Linking this to it.
dVerse — descriptive detail — Emissary
Peng, whose wingspan covers the sky Alights on Yellow Mountain’s Peak Red eyes survey the village below From whom will he take today? Old Mrs. Yen, asleep on the porch, Broom still in her hand, Will have fewer dreams after today; fewer remembered celebrations, fewer regrets. The seasons pass… One winter moon shines through…
