eighteen ~

Does your mind ever take you back to being “Eighteen”?

tornadoday

nearme

Now and then, I’m reminded of the unique wonder that is inherent to our living, loving, and journey through the number that becomes our days.

And while most travels are the same, others can vary based on age, our place in the world, and even the area where we are born to.

Just yesterday, I made the trip to see my mother, some thirty minutes down the road. Along the way, I passed a place I have overlooked hundreds of times, but this time was different. I noticed a cluster of trees and just as I passed, I realized there was a worn down path – a road (less traveled) that navigated between them, through them.

And just like that, I was at another place of my life. I was 18.

While I don’t for one minute think that ‘parking’ is unique to the south, I think that every place…

View original post 108 more words

Untouched side

Please come and enjoy “Untouched Side” .

Peek a boo

See the source image

Everyone has touched beaming side of her,
But she wants someone to touch despondency side of her.

Everyone has touched brave side of her,
But she wants someone to touch the helpless side of her.

Everyone knows her strength,
But she wants someone to know her weaknesses.

Everyone has touched coarse side of her,
But she wants someone to touch pleasing side of her.

Everyone has touched mature side of her,
But she wants someone to touch baby side of her.

Everyone has touched cold-blooded side of her,
But she wants someone to touch the warm-blooded side of her.

And,

She is sure that someday, somewhere, someone will touch the untouched side of her,
and that touch makes her heart melt and makes the world blur.

View original post

‘Why do we write?’

Come read John’s uplifting and inspiring “Why Do We Write”.

johncoyote

Why do we write story and poetry?

A Poem by Coyote Poetry

"

Old wise saying. “Nothing good to say. Say nothing.”

"

Poetry, my dear friends,
is a sacred incarnation of a smile.
Poetry is a sigh that dries the tears.
Poetry is a spirit who dwells in the soul,
who nourishment is the heart,
who wine is affection.
Poetry that comes not in this form is a false messiah.
Kahlil Gibran.

Perfection

Keep me away from the wisdom which does not cry,
The philosophy which does not make me laugh
and the greatness which does not bow before children.
Kahlil Gibran

Why do we write poetry and story?

Kahlil Gibran expressed the real reasons for writing above.

Poetry and story is not to offend.

It can teach, motivate and make you cry or laugh.

Be graceful for writer’s who shared their words and thoughts.

Never be negative in public.

View original post 163 more words

Guest Submissions Sought for the Go Do Go Café February Theme: Ursula K. Le Guin

Come make a guest submission at the Go Dog Go Cafe! And make the Go Dog Go Cafe an everyday visit part of your day!

Go Dog Go Café

Le-Guin-Books

Steve Fuller has been encouraging the Baristas to develop monthly themes for the Go Dog Go Cafe’s Baristas and guest writers to use as a springboard for their creativity, much like the Chef’s use a unifying ingredient on Iron Chef or Chopped.

We will be launching this “ingredient for the month” concept in February in way that let’s us honor the great writer Ursula K. Le Guin, who we lost earlier this week after an amazing life of writing and inspiring adults and children around the world with her powerful storytelling, poetry, and essays.  We challenge all of you to write a poem, essay, reflective piece, story, flash fiction that honors her, is inspired by a favorite LeGuin story, or dives into the mind of a character in one of her books.  You pick, she is your main ingredient.

If you decide to take us up on our monthly challenge, please submit…

View original post 35 more words

Paint by Number

Come examine a “PAINT BY NUMBER” life vs. a one of a kind.

Poesy plus Polemics

1a7148_69c683c294cb4481ab5a1544def0ccd7~mv2_d_2832_3788_s_4_2 Portrait by Tim Mueller

pale blue lines
outline blotches
the shapes and
the shadows of
life by the numbers
faint color codes
cover the mass
produced canvas
designed to create
one more mass
produced portrait
with pigments that
daub and dress
mutual features
of character
common to crowds
save for moments
infrequently fresh
here and there
now and then
when a self-minded
painter flips over
the art board and
makes of its sheer
daunting blankness
a brave handed
bold colored vision
a one-of-a-kind
most remarkable life

From my book Ephemera

View original post