Archive for stuff that is not evergreen but we want to keep. Old gift guide articles, etc.
I just found out National Novel Writing Month exists and I have accepted the challenge. This month will be a practice in self-discipline and writing. I have to write over 1,600 words per day to reach the goal of 50,000 in a month. Not sure if I will even get a novel out of this […]
You gently bump your head against my hand softly at first then become more forceful When I don’t respond you touch your nose to mine When I still don’t respond you gently tap my arm becoming more insistent with each tap I reach out to touch your head you purr I stop You reach out
Writing is something I do alone. It is a time to think my own thoughts in my own head. Explore my soul my feelings my hopes my desires. My writing is not yours to claim, to scrutinize, to devour with your prejudice and criticism. I don’t want someone over my shoulder reading what I write,
The whir of the air conditioner The hum of the refrigerator The deafening sound of silence Straining to hear the echos of children playing The twitter of birds The conversations of friends The sounds of a life My life Reaching out to the echos of the past I am surrounded by walls Collapsing The world
This is the first I have really written in a while. I have basically had a nervous breakdown and have spent the better part of a month trying to recover myself. Trying to find myself amongst the panic and the tears. Trying to make it through the nausea and the disconnection. Trying to survive from
That is my goddess calling me I am of the sea and the sea is of me The constancy of the tide Rolling in and out In an eternal dance with the moon Stars shining in the sand Twinkles of silica formed years ago Microscopic shells of a thousand lives Brought together as one Caressed
This week’s prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is: “-eat.” Use the word “eat” or add letters to it to make a different word. Don’t cheat! When I saw this prompt the first thing that came to my mind was I wonder if I can write a poem using nothing but words containing “eat”. Eat
He pauses with trepidation as he hears the toenails tapping above his head. He can not comprehend how it is possible for that noise to be coming from the ceiling. He listens intently. More tapping, pause, more tapping. Now a scurry across the living room ceiling into the kitchen. He cocks his head to one side
