Free Image Pixabay Random phone calls to talk about the rainor the cat,the food that I never had,or all the mundane thingslife is made of.Good morning messagesthat I never open,forwards I care no more for,or an emoticon to tell methey exist.Old trees, said a friend,set copious blossomsin their final years.
BOXES
The stack of boxes you’ve piled over years, the dynamics of those 2D measurements apt to crush the tunnel on your back. Put down that mountain. Most of it doesn’t even matter. It is a hundred years old. Why should you carry the burden of its senility? Nonchalance must rule over eighty or even sixty. …
Between Messing Up & Not
Between messing up and notAnd falling down, and liftingmyself up each dayI efface a portion of the toniccalled grit, that we gulped as kids.Cliffs on a coast eroded by the seashreds of sandpaperthat's me.I don't mind being carried awayby waves or wind,eaten away by their gentleness.It's always less fearfulthan the dregs of courage, they claimlie …
Things Fall Apart
(With apologies to Chinua Achebe, author of Things Fall Apart) The lamp has lived its life It no longer holds up The flickering, long hours of darkness unplanned fearsome Like the dusty, round-faced clock before it, and the three-legged tandoor much earlier, rusted in places A palette of yellow pages from years of being stifled …
WEP AUGUST: FREEDOM OF SPEECH
Hello Readers Welcome back! Today I am here to share my entry for the Write Edit Publish (WEP) August prompt. First about the WEP. It is a supportive writing community where creative people submit to a bloghop every second month. Writers and other artists receive and provide feedback to as many bloghop entrants as possible. …
A Hundred Quills 