Fear

I fear failure
I fear the walls closing in
I fear being crushed by the weight
I fear love more than I fear hate
I fear indifference
I fear the truth
I fear her leaving
I fear not being enough
I fear falling
I fear the dark
I fear my heart
I fear myself.

We Were Miscreants

Burlap meditation

Effervescence in the bottleneck

Our nonsense hopes and dreams

Ethereal perspective

Turgid dementia of the past

Lost within a demarcation

We were miscreants.

Prompt "A Word with Laurie: Review"

from Imaginary Garden with Real Toads

Broken Pieces by Rachel Thompson

Broken Pieces 

by Rachel Thompson

My Rating 5/5 Stars

This is one of the most intense and honest books I have ever read. I have trouble putting into words how much it means to me. I can open up Broken Pieces and feel someone has truly been through hell and it puts my problems into perspective. On another level, I can relate to the pain of partners being unfaithful and how much it eats away at you. Rachel Thompson strikes deep into the reader's heart as she opens up her own. Her journey is not humorous but it is real. You will admire her strength and you will not pity her. Pity is not he purpose of this book. Thompson shares her story because it is a story that needs told and will benefit those suffering from abuse, both sexual and not. Sexual harassment, molestation of children and rape are not a thing of the past; they continues and we must be aware. We must stop all of it with everything we have. Broken Pieces is a book everyone will be better for reading. I know I am.

Release

My breath fogs up the windows
I can’t see out the car
But you will never see inside.
The doors are locked
I’ve turned the radio as
Loud as it can go.
Scream your head off
I’ll breathe in the exhaust.

Cento for NWCU

You are young, so young,
I can walk through lonely aisles
Always finding what I want in you.
The words aren’t right.
They never could be.
I held you too tight
And you slipped through my hands.
I poured myself into you.

Stroll with me in green -
Hard rain falls
Our twilight spins
Lost in constellation.
The fire whispers
Background jazz.
Pasts forgotten
I kiss you in your sleep.
Bright stars dimmer in the cold.

Prompt from Wednesday Wake-Up Call 26.12.12 Collage to Close the Year. We were challenged to create a work from other works throughout the year.  I chose to write a cento from my two collections, Night Poems and Haiku in the Night.

Dirt Road Dreams by Susie Clevenger

 

Dirt Road Dreams

by Susie Clevenger

My Rating 5/5 Stars

Life is a journey and nothing tells its story better than good poetry. Dirt Road Dreams may appear unassuming from the cover but the simplicity is short lived. Susie Clevenger’s words, in essence, are that road – curving boldly through the depth of her experience. It is not always nicely paved and you will get dirty time to time. Clevenger is a real woman, her perceptions and emotions relatable while at the same time deeply profound. Her worldliness is grounded in reality. She divides poetry into three categories: Barefoot on Gravel, Kicking up Sand, and Dancing in the Dust. I felt each section said something unique about the author, feeding into larger themes of perseverance, hope, femininity and love. I highly recommend this debut collection.

Old Mall

I see closed down stores
People in the distance
My feet echo and I hear them.
Where is everyone?
Years ago, I kissed
Amanda on the bench.
We dated for a week or two
Losing touch soon after.
Where is she now?
The bench is clean,
Too clean. I bet
She hasn't seen it since.

A Christmas Gnome Tale

Motty hated Christmas.  Every year was as disappointing as the last.  No, it wasn’t presents; those were the least of his worries.  Motty was a gnome and gnomes worked constantly.  They didn’t get holidays or sick leave.  The last of his kind to even mention vacation had been tied to a stump and left for dead.

This Christmas, however was by far the worst.  Motty had spent the previous holiday working in the mines and even that did not measure up.  The politicians decided the working class, like Motty, needed what they termed a calling to instill allegiance.  The high stratification of their class system left two options: a more equitable distribution of acorns or war.  Acorns didn’t budge and war was soon declared.

Motty mumbled to himself over the injustice as he marched outside his tree.  His neighbors and he were headed for what was surely certain death.  The gnomes of the rich neighborhoods could not be seen.  Motty assumed they were flying above on dragonflies, safe from harm.  They never marched or did much fighting.

The fairies hadn’t harmed a gnome in two hundred years but the politicians insisted they were planning to.  That’s who they would soon attack: the fairies of Evamorf.  Fairies were a shy lot obsessed with security.  Their hill was an impenetrable fortress.  None who ventured inside ever returned to tell the tale.

Ji Phi, the Gnome King claimed a fairy attempted to assassinate him.  His evidence was dust near his cup of tea.  No fairies were found but he stuck to his story.  The king never considered he spilled his sugar…

Motty gathered sticks to defend himself.  There were few weapons.  Potion bottles clanked in his satchel but they were not perfected.  Motty wanted to be a scientist working safely behind from the front.  He lacked the connections, however.  The posts often went to families of higher breeding, leaving the poor with fewer options.  Motty continued tinkering, trying new concoctions with little hope of it amounting to much.  Before the war he had almost finished a shrinking elixir.  It shrunk his coin purse and he didn’t eat for days.

The march was long and Motty’s mind continued drifting.  Much taller gnomes marched in front and behind.  He never saw what came ahead.

“Form ranks,” a distant voice said.  It must have been a general.

None listened.  Gnomes ran in every possible direction.  Motty dodged bare feet and boots before they smashed him.  It was chaos.  Commanders fired arrows from above on dragonflies.  They were not intended for the enemy. 

The gnome who marched in front of Motty minutes prior fell dead.  An arrow was lodged deep into his skull.  Advancing Fairies soon enveloped his body.  They were moving closer.  Motty threw his sticks down and ran for safety.  Hopefully his own commanders would not kill him.

Motty dodged the arrows from above but the spritely wings of fairies caught up with him.  He reached inside his satchel and his hand brushed by the potions he packed.  They weren’t perfected but he had to try them.

Motty closed his eyes and threw a vial behind him.  He ran for another five seconds before he had the courage to look.  It was an amazing sight.  The fairies chasing him had transformed to pink ornaments on a large pine tree with presents underneath.  For a moment both armies stopped fighting to gaze at its splendor and unwrap gifts.

Minutes passed and none resumed fighting.  The rest of the gnomes began dropping sticks and what other weapons they brought.  Fairies did the same with their pink daggers.  Laughter replaced the anguish of death.  The glittering of the tinsel shined bright enough the commanders could not aim from the sky and song broke out below.  Motty partially hummed, singing the words that he remembered and embracing his new friends.  A festive sweater covered the blood stains on his battle cloak.

Whether the battle resumed or not, it didn’t matter.  For the first time in a very long while Motty loved Christmas.

O Christmas Tree on Ocarina

Happy holidays, everyone! I recorded a song for you.

Sandy Hook

For the families mourning in Connecticut:

Because words are stronger than bullets
We will keep hate on the run with love
And our children shall return to us.
You will see your faith renewed;
The darkest cloud of doubt
Can only rain so long.

Sun will shine and fill your empty beds with light
I promise it will come. I promise you.
Just as dusk gives way to dawn,
Your heart will beat again.

Today's Tragedy

Today I was heartbroken. The news hit hard. Over twenty people in Connecticut dead; eighteen children. I clung to the radio in my car, trying to understand. Why? Is it the lapse of federal gun laws? Is our mental health system so deteriorated in this country as not to get these psychopaths the care or seclusion they need? I was angry. I wanted to blame the killer, I wanted to blame society, myself and everyone. Is this something that will keep happening until everyone is numb? Aurora, Virginia Tech, Columbine… it feels the same and yet it doesn't. A grown man decided to enter an elementary school and commit a vicious act of evil beyond comprehension.

I thought all of this on my way to volunteering at a local elementary school. I expected lock down but no one else had even heard. It was better that way. The kids carried on much like they always do. I played games and pushed two young girls on the swing, thankful they were okay. That’s all any of us can really do right now. We can only be thankful for our children and the ones around us and pray that they stay safe.

When someone takes the life or innocence of a child it shatters us. Maybe it’s because we see in them the ability to extend our own mortality; maybe it’s because our hope for a brighter future is tarnished. I know for one, when I see my niece or any young child, I see hope; the potential for someone to live and do the things I never could. I doubt often I can change the world but never them. They are free; vulnerable but free. And when society fails to protect them it fails everyone.

Help Children This Holiday Season with a Paperback of The Funny Adventures of Little Nani by Cinta Garcia

Author Cinta Garcia recently released an amazing collection of stories involving a witch whose attempts to help people often go awry. It was easily one of the best books I read this year. The imagination, the heart, as well as the cultural and environmental insights make it a must read. But, particularly, this month, you cannot miss the opportunity. Cinta Garcia is donating $10 of every purchase to help disadvantaged children this holiday season.

In her own words, “I donate money every year to a children's charity of my choice, and this year I was going to do the same. So I decided to use my book in order to make people be more aware of those children who don't have happy Christmas, those kids who don't get presents under the tree, or who maybe don't even have a tree, those kids who have to spend Christmas time in hospitals.” I was particularly touched by this generosity. We clearly need more people like her. Be sure and get the paperback! It’s a tremendous book and a fantastic cause. You can find it on Amazon and Createspace.

Haiku in the Night

I recently released a book of haiku titled Haiku in the Night. It's an eclectic mix of free-verse and traditional divided into four colors: green, red, gray and blue. I took inspiration from the Japanese legend Basho and his separation by season.  Also, I thought I would share a few of my favorites with my lovely readers.

We are lunar martyrs

Dying by our telescopes

Lost in constellations.

I moonwalked

once upon a time

without you.

When your kisses lie

Whispers and your touch deceive

I am left alone.

Get it on:

Amazon Kindle

Amazon Paperback

Smashwords

Finding Truth

I'm trying to put my feelings for my grandfather into context. I think there was much unsaid and unresolved between us at the time of his death. The first step, obviously is being as honest as I'm able with my feelings.

For Grandpa 
your heroic days were stories
that I never saw but I believed.
I wish I knew you then and
not the hardened man
I can’t remember having
a sincere embrace with.
then again, I wish I took the time
to understand the way you were;
why you cried when grandma died
and then remarried not long after.
it didn’t make sense and neither
did the illness that took over
when she didn’t love you
the same way or much at all.

1999

At the turn of the century, I was 13

Almost half the age at which I write

I don't remember very much, except

Our bubbled drinks not quite champagne

The thrill of staying up past bedtime

And New Years Rockin' Eve, that now

I just can't watch without Dick Clark.

Image Source: Juiceboxxx.com

Posted for TimeWarp 1999 ~#WWUC @NWCreativeUnion

Waxing Poetic by Amber Norrgard

Waxing Poetic The 2012 Collected Poetry Works

by Amber Jerome~ Norrgard

My rating 5/5 Stars

It was refreshing and emotional to read through Amber Norrgard's poetry in one collection. Color of Dawn, In the Gloaming and 11:59 p.m. strike a powerful chord together as they do apart. You will be shaken, touched, torn into and reassembled by her words of pain and perseverance.

Charity Parkerson's New Release - The Adonis

It's no secret Charity Parkerson is one of my favorite authors. Her characters are real and her situations are fascinating. I was honored when she gave me the opportunity to join a blog tour promoting her latest work, The Adonis. It's tremendous and I highly recommend you check it out.

The-Adonis

By

Charity Parkerson

Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/258501

Barnes & Noble http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-adonis-charity-parkerson/1113848662?ean=2940015786859

Amazon US http://ow.ly/fBJyF

Amazon UK http://ow.ly/fBJF

Blurb:

Grecian Fantasies hosts one of the hottest balls in town, a naughty Nobody-Knows-Your-Name masquerade that is not only exclusive, but is also not for the faint of heart.

Pleasure, fantasy, fetish, and vice are all on the menu at this ball. The only thing not up for grabs is the notorious woman behind its creation, but that is about to change.

Excerpt:

“I’m Weston,” he said as he wound Rob’s ribbon around his neck, tying it in a neat bow, and making himself appear as a giant unwanted present. “What’s your desire?” Rob started to tell Weston that he desired for him to go away, but a bright yellow feather caught his eye once more, and his gaze found the Goddess across the room.

“I need you to fetch someone,” Rob answered, deciding to use the awkward situation to his advantage.

“Oh, yay, a threesome,” Weston cheered. “May I suggest Mike over there,” he said, pointing to a gigantic man wearing a plain black mask. “He has lumberjack hands,” Weston added cheerfully.

Rob paused. Lumberjack hands? No, he was not going to ask. “What are lumberjack hands?”

“You know, he can wield his . . .” Weston began before Rob waved his hand, cutting him off.

“Never mind, I get the picture.” And he did, too. He would never be able to wash this moment from his mind. Getting back on track before things got out of hand, Rob pointed across the room. “Bring her to me,” he ordered.

Weston’s face fell as he caught sight of the woman to which Rob referred. “I cannot,” he stammered, sounding horrified.

“What the hell? I thought you were supposed to fulfill my desires or some shit?”

Weston seemed honestly distraught over Rob’s aggravation. “I’m sorry. If you ask me to fetch anyone else for a bit of fun, then I am at your service, any service,” he added, raking Rob’s body with his eyes. “However, that is Theadonis and I cannot do as you command.”

“The Adonis,” Rob repeated, sounding ridiculous even to his own ears. “I thought Adonis was a man. That is no man.” As the words left Rob’s mouth, he found himself tilting his head to one side and studying the woman closer just in case he was wrong.

 Weston rolled his eyes. “Not ‘the Adonis.’ Theadonis. That’s her name. She is the owner of Grecian Fantasies.”

 Bio: Charity Parkerson was born in Tennessee, where she still lives with her husband and two sons.  She is the author of several books including twelve Amazon bestsellers. You can like her at http://www.facebook.com/authorCharityParkerson. Be sure to visit her at http://www.charityparkerson.com  and you can read her blog at http://charity-thesinners.blogspot.com

Her “Sinners series” was voted one of the top ten best books by an Indie author in 2011- Paranormal Romance Reads
She was named as one of the top three Indie authors of 2012- The Book Connection  
She is a member of The Paranormal Romance Guild, is a Goodreads moderator, a member of Coffee Time Romance, and co-host of The Melissa Craig and Charity Parkerson show.
She won author of the week in August of 2011, and is a three-time winner of The Mistress of the Darkpath.
You can follow her on Twitter @https://twitter.com/CharityParkerso

Links:

Amazon

Barnes & Noble

Smashwords

Punk & Sissy Publications

Goodreads

Neil, The First Gnome In Space by James Andrews

Neil, The First Gnome In Space

by James Andrews

My Rating 4/5 Stars

I really enjoyed this story about a gnome's desire to travel through space. In it, you see what friendship and teamwork can accomplish in the comical search for a rocket. The illustrations as well are very adorable. I would recommend this book for younger children, or adults who need a quick, heart-felt pick-me-up.

11:59 p.m. by Amber Norrgard

11:59 p.m.

by Amber Norrgard

My rating 5/5 Stars

11:59 is Author Amber Norrgard’s latest collection and it doesn’t disappoint. I’ve said before that I’m a fanboy of her writing. She has talent that expands with every piece of work she writes. Color of Dawn gave way to In the Gloaming and 4 a.m. Each one moving and honest beyond anything before. 11:59 is no exception. Her first poem hooked me as much as the last. Norrgard’s writing is a journey of pain, perspective, understanding and hope. Though, the emotions are deep you will not leave empty. My favorites are Take My Hand, In Blue, Wrapped Around and The Search for the Eyes of Home for their beauty and raw power. Even if you are not into poetry, give 11:59 a chance. You will be moved, I promise.

An Imaginary Garden

I’d like to be that

Imaginary garden with

Prince toads and

Princess kisses on

The lily pad at dusk

Before the curse is

Permanent -

Leaving battle scars

Of mysticism.

I linked this poem to Real Toad's Open Link Monday.  

Please, go and check out the other great posts!

Divine Intervention by Dionne Lister

 

Divine Intervention

by Dionne Lister

My Rating 5/5 Stars

I worried after reading the description that the story would be overly religious in nature. I was wrong and very glad for it. Author Dionne Lister presents a stirring social commentary and message on the state of a stratified world. The greed of some and the great need of others is startling. You will understand something deep about the world for reading, no matter what your political persuasion. Easily one of the best short stories I've read this year.

Poetry Reviews

I'm starting something new on the Spice. I'm adding my book reviews from Amazon and Goodreads. Since, I'm getting a late start I thought I would post the ones I've written for poetry this year along with purchase links.



Nothing Left to Lose by Natasha Head
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

It's hard familiarizing yourself with a new poet. I find at times I sink into my favorites and don't explore as much as I should. I'm very glad I moved out of my box and took a chance with Natasha Head. I initially thought the price was a little high but for the volume of poems and the incredible quality it was well worth it. The title "Nothing Left to Lose" exemplifies the writing. Author Natasha Head writes without fear, showing you her opinion of the world, her views and feelings. I would not say it is as political as it is honest. She sees greed, hunger and corruption and she calls it out. There is no sugar-coating. If you want a poetry book that truly says something, Nothing Left to Lose is the collection for you. The only issue I found was with the font size. I increased it by pressing Aa on my kindle, however so it was not a big problem.

View all my reviews

From Where I Stand by Robert Zimmermann
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Robert Zimmermann has created a beautiful and moving collection. You can feel from the strength of his words that the poet's whole life has been leading toward it. Zimmermann is above all an honest observer, laying his own struggles bare and appreciating the nature around him. If you want a debut collection that gets stronger with every poem you read, From Where I Stand is for you.

View all my reviews In The Gloaming by Amber Jerome~Norrgard
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

In the Gloaming, true to its name, captures the best of night and day. Amber Jerome Norrgard brings the brightness of romance and the darkness of her trials together seamlessly. They almost seem one in the same, as they remain distinct and unforgettable. My favorites from this collection are many. The raw passion of Just, the love in With You, the overcoming pain in Guidance all spoke to me profoundly. If you have a heart, and strength enough to open it, you will adore this wonderful collection.

View all my reviews 4 a.m. by Amber Jerome~Norrgard
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

I've written in previous reviews how much I appreciate the passion and honesty with which this author writes. Her collection 4 a.m. is no exception. She is raw in her execution, without fear. You do not have to be a woman to understand her pain; you must only be human.

View all my reviews


The Color of Dawn by Amber Jerome~Norrgard
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

I found this overall, a heartfelt manuscript. I felt the passion in her words and saw her journey as a woman come to life.

View all my reviews

Like a Tree

Like a tree

I have stood my ground

And fallen.

The oak grows boldly

Never knowing of its fate

Becoming fire.

Prompt "Tree" by Haiku Heights

The Not So Singing Fish

I see the planets pink, gold orbs

Surrounding a bipedal fish

Who swam so far to stand

But still, can't sing.

His red eye tells the story

We can't hear.

Adhoc brushstrokes and

The wild lines are music.

Gills convert color into oxygen

Hitting notes heard only from within.

 

  

Image Credit: Singing Fish by Joan Miro (1921)

 

Posted for Sunday Snap Shot 11-11-12 at NewWorldCreativeUnion.

Silence

I hear lost love
In the silence;
Echoes of what were
Possibilities before
My choices anchored me
And I could not move forward
Or fall back in time.

Prompt "Silence"
by NewWorldCreativeUnion

Image Source: New Scientist

The Kindle Voice Guy

And Now an An Erotic Flash Fiction

I had sex with the Kindle voice guy. It was everything I thought it could be. The way his monotone sighs seduced me as he touched my back was unforgettable. His hands moved with the syllabic momentum of his voice, stopping and starting in quick succession. Pressing his up arrow with select aroused him too. I thought of all the books he read to me throughout the past year. I shivered with delight recalling Lewis Carroll and Robert Louis Stevenson. Kindle Voice Guy knew exactly where the g-spot was with Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. He read the last lines and I lost control, screaming out the names of my favorite authors. “Tolkien, oh, God, yes! Give it to me Kindle! Send your ship to Valinor! Mama needs Dahl’s BFG! Big fucking girth!” The release was tremendous as I cuddled up against his leather case. He pressed all the right buttons and he knew me better than anyone. If only I never had to upgrade…

A Promise

I can't promise
If you live for love
You'll never be alone,
Left crying in the dark.

I can't say
Whether you'll go cold
Or hungry for a week
Or month between
Your heartbeats.

I can tell you
There are no regrets,
That every scar is earned,
Catalogued and kept inside
For darker hours.

Image Source: Crosswalk Community Church

A Play for my Indies

Amazon Private Investigators

Setting:

Amazon Headquarters

[Detectives DARIAN and O’REILY sit across a desk from each other.

The walls are covered with photographs of various suspects and leads.]

DARIAN: I don’t get it, O’Reily.

O’REILY: What’s that, Darian?

DARIAN: Why don’t these writers give up?

O’REILY: Beats me. I say we got ‘em cornered.

DARIAN: That’s true.  Pretty soon they won’t have any reviews.

O’REILY: Did you track down any leads?

DARIAN: As a matter-of-fact, someone clicked like on a book near the author’s IP address.

O’REILY: That’s going down.

DARIAN: These indies make me sick.

O’REILY: Why’s that?

DARIAN: I don’t know. They just do! Drop it.

O’REILY: There’s got to be more to this.

DARIAN: I said drop it, O’Reily.

O’REILY: [Typing on computer.] Fine, I will. 

[Pause.] I think I have something.

DARIAN: It better be good.

O’REILY: Of course, it is.  This indie had a cousin review her novel.  I bet the scumbag never thought we’d catch on.

DARIAN: I’m starting to think this is more than a job to you, O’Reily.  It seems personal.

O’REILY: Okay, I’ll tell you but it doesn’t leave this room.

DARIAN: Scout’s honor.

O’REILY: When I was a teenager, I dreamed of being the lead singer in a famous band.

DARIAN: Didn’t everybody?

O’REILY: It was different for me, Darian.  I was with a band, a really good one.  We could’ve made it too.

DARIAN: You’re fooling yourself, O’Reily.  We all thought we could.

[O’REILY continues as if he didn’t hear DARIAN.]

O’REILY: We were performing this big gig at the local concert hall.  There was a producer in the audience.  I was psyched.

DARIAN: [Now interested.] What happened?

O’REILY: He didn’t like our sound.  Seeing him walk out on was the worst feeling.  I never got over it.

DARIAN: But you kept playing, right?

O’REILY: No, I gave it up.

DARIAN: Is that why you hate indie authors so much?

O’REILY: What do you mean?

DARIAN: O’Reily, it’s obvious.  You hate indie authors because you hate yourself.  They’re going after a dream you never could.

O’REILY: That’s music, Darian.  It’s totally different.

DARIAN: Is it?

O’REILY: I guess not so much.

DARIAN: Let’s get back to work.

O’REILY: You go ahead.  I’ll be back in a few.

[DARIAN types on the computer for ten seconds or so before he hears someone playing guitar outside the office.]

DARIAN: I’ll be goddamned.

1st Place: 4~Whips Erotica Flash Fiction Turkey Slap

Hello, everyone.  I bet you never thought of me as an erotica writer. Well, you'd be wrong. I won first prize in a flash fiction contest for just that: erotica. It's a story about gnomes no less. Better yet, it's free on Smashwords. So, give it a download and read the other great winners too.

Turkey Slap 2012

Tribute to a Lantern

The cage can’t hide

Your light inside.

Iron bars and glass

Will break for you.

Rusted ceilings

Collapsing into sky,

Let stars shine

With your eyes.

 

Photograph by ©Susie Clevenger 2012

Check out more awesome photography on her blog, And There Is More

Two Jumps

Jeremy took the fire cubes out of the heater.  His tea was getting cold again.  It always did when he was working.  Time got away from him too easily.  “I’ll have to go back another month and catch up,” thought Jeremy.  His age showed.  In reality, the business tycoon was in his mid-thirties, but in actual years he was nearing sixty.  He could always go back and be the family man; catch his son’s game or daughter’s recital but his body didn’t know the difference.  Jeremy was an old man before his time.

“Computer,” he asked, “how long do I have?”  It paused.  He hated when it paused.

“Judging by your current rate of decline and the current life expectancy for wealthy, American, Caucasian males, you have two remaining jumps.”

“Two jumps,” Jeremy mumbled to himself.  He had hard choices to make.  His wife got off work an hour ago.  He could spend the night with her.  Or maybe he could try something he never had before.

“Computer, I would like to use both of my jumps.”

“Both, sir?”

“Yes, both,” he replied sure of his decision.

The computer began loading and Jeremy closed his eyes to the clicking sound.  It was relaxing after all the years spent in his office.

Atoms rearranged themselves.  The walls and floor disintegrated.  Jeremy felt an uncomfortable force pulling him forward.  It was forward, he hoped.  His skin felt looser, his hair thinner as a bed materialized below him.

“You can come in now,” a caring voice said.  “He doesn’t have much longer.”

An older woman, he recognized as his wife was stroking his hair.  He felt the sensation.  Somehow, the weight of death seemed lifted, staring at her.  Jeremy recalled things he hadn’t lived through, but had happened just the same; vacations, picnics and nights spent underneath the stars.

The two people the nurse motioned came in after a brief chat Jeremy lost track of.  They looked like him, he thought.  They must have been… he choked back tears.  They were his son and daughter.  His son held a child.

“Hello, dad,” the daughter said before embracing him.

“Guess who came to see you?” his son asked.  The child smiled down at him.  It was surreal as he took his granddaughter in his arms.  The weight was heavier than he expected and he knew that he grew weaker.  But, somehow, he had greater strength seeing the new life in front of him.  It was worth the sacrifice of time.

 

 

Image Source: Lauren Miller Gallery

Just Burn the Stars

Just burn me alive
Test my innocence with death
I will drown for you.

The stars are witches
Caught in the blackish canvas
Of the sky on brooms.

 

 

Prompt "Witch" by Haiku Heights

 

Image Source: Fanpop.com

Please, Help!

Amazon has been arbitrarily deleting reviews for indie authors like me. This hurts sales but above all the ability to share our stories and opinions freely.  Derek Blass has started a petition that I ask you sign, not only for me but everyone affected. These are his words:

"Amazon has been able to build a monopoly in the world of selling books. They have employed the fundamental principles of capitalism to achieve that position. With that monopoly, Amazon is now exerting its power against its most vulnerable sellers, independently published authors. Amazon is currently removing customer reviews from books published by indie authors without any notice, and without any explanation. This petition demands that Amazon explain for every author that loses a review (good or bad) why that review was removed, and set forth clear guidelines as to what will and will not be removed in the future." -Derek Blass

 

Please sign.

The Lyrical Versification Podcast

Hello, everyone! I am starting a podcast with my good friend, Amber Norrgard, called Lyrical Versification. We plan to discuss poetry in all its forms. I hope you check it out when it goes live. In the meantime you can all follow us on Facebook and Twitter.

Update: The podcast is now live! Find us on iTunes or tune in here.

Conscious

I don’t remember

If I kissed you in your sleep

Or we were dreaming.

The lake waits

For the wind to breathe;

Freezing her.

Prompt "Conscious" by Haiku Heights

 

Image Source: hplusmagazine.com

All My Heroes

All my heroes are
Dead or disgraced.

I look up or down
To no one but I wish
I could again.

The wide-eyed boy
Died with the dream that
A single moment - as small as it might be,
In sports or life - can change our history.

For Blue

My girlfriend's father had a lovely dog who they had to put down last Saturday. I wrote three haiku in honor of her.

 

Old Blue missed Taffy

she just wasn’t the same dog

without her best friend.

I recall giving

Blue a good scratch, the last time

I saw her this month.

 

I threw the tennis

ball her way and thought I saw

Blue running for it.

 

 

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Untitled

If your favorite song
Still makes you cry
Then you’re okay and
Don’t despair.

If you’re feeling
Lonely in the rain
The rain is too.

Kiss the air and
Cleanse your soul.

Today

Today
I’ve realized
What I’m not
And what I’ll never be.

Today
The present
And the future
Stood before me,
Leaving me to cry
Into the past.

Today
I left, retreated
With my tears to bed
And dreamt of alcohol.

Haiga & Senryu

When I close my eyes
I remember being home;
Tucked in safe and tight.

The tree knows one home
For its entire lifetime;
Dying if it moves.

Prompt "Home" by Haiku Heights

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Snippet from a New Story

“The holocaust. We’ve got to stop the holocaust.”

 

“Susan, that’s impossible. You can’t stop the holocaust.”

 

“Well, you can’t travel through time in a magic zeppelin either but we’re doing it!”