The imagery of a lonely old house always grabs me. I take pictures of them when I see them. And they often put in an appearance in my writing. Here’s a case in point.
Towering, it stands.
Long driveway
spirals down
the hill.
Forbidding, it sits
on Grecian
poles.
Dark
and lonely
are its windows.
Who walked
its once lovely
halls?
Who, now, haunts
these battered
walls?
Trapped
forever
in loneliness,
and must.
Pity,
I feel for
he, who
haunts
this House.
On October 13, 1982, my diary entry consisted of mostly a poem. I now share with you that entry. Just F.Y.I.: each diary was given a name. For my Junior year in High School, my diary was named Duval, after a guy I liked the previous year. He died his senior year in a terrible…
This poem is an exercise in creating scenes with strong sensory information. Breathe. Fill your nostrils with the smokey scent of your neighbor’s barbecue. Breathe. Listen to the rustle of pine needles brushing against each-other in the breeze. Breathe. Soak in the starlight slowly spinning in the dark blue sky. Breathe. Fill yourself with the…
This month’s work of art is a real throw back — to the times of the cave dwellers. Hyeana mother Guards her young pup from harm’s way Don’t cross this Momma! Originally posted on 52 Haiku
Are you ready for Fifty-two Haiku’s Challenge? One haiku a week! The contest starts next Wednesday, Jan. 2, 2008. Originally posted on 52 Haiku
This poem was written circa 1975. I’d forgotten all about it until my mother called me and told me she wanted to read to me a poem written by a 9-year old girl. When she was done, she asked me if I remembered it. I said it sounded familiar … maybe I’d read it on…
My next speech for Toastmasters is “Speaking to Entertain” … I have to be humorous for 15-20 minutes. Ug. Anyway, I thought I might do it on food, so was looking for some interesting quotes about food and found this: “The poets have been mysteriously silent on the subject of cheese.” G.K. Chesterton Well, never…