Day: July 7, 2019

Writer’s Workshop: 13 Lines On A Couple of YouTube Channels

~ thereluctantpoet ~ 2 Comments

The Sound of One Hand Typing

Image by Manfred Antranias Zimmer from Pixabay

I stumbled across a couple of new YouTube channels today that I’m fascinated by. One of them is Bright Sun Films, which features videos created by Jake Williams. The other is This is Dan Bell, obviously named for its proprietor. What these channels have in common is that they focus on places that have been forgotten.

Jake has a series on his channel called Abandoned, videos about places that once housed thriving businesses, which now stand empty and are going to seed. From shopping malls and stores that were once thriving, to places like the Pontiac Silverdome and a charity hospital in Detroit. He also has videos on airlines and other businesses that have failed, similar to some of the videos produced by Company Man. Dan’s channel features a series of videos about dead shopping malls, malls that are still…

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a message to the stars

~ thereluctantpoet

A Writer's Soul

Check out this new series of responses with Nitin! Here’s part one! 🙂

I try getting over you by telling people that I fell out of love with you. But you should know by now that every piece I write revolves around you. And as hard as I try to mask my vulnerability, each line I write strips me of my armor and lays me bare. I look out of my window tonight and watch the streetlights and the glow of the traffic passing by, and an acute sense of loneliness possesses me. Maybe it’s because you’re not on my bed, lying next to me, and I feel like every other friendless person, barely moving on with their lives. I miss you whispering sweet nothings in my ear. I miss your scent and the feel of your skin. I wish things didn’t pan out the way they did between…

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the red dawn

~ thereluctantpoet ~ 1 Comment

House of Heart

At night we wander like interlacing
tendrils weaving the desert sand,
touching, entwining, your body
stretching to mine, tightening,
giving way, every ripple replicated
like the amber sand.
At Night the desert grows sweet,
we swim in the cool raindrops of dreams
where each breath is a verse.
A silent Oracle I write Arabesque on
the grain of your skin so when
you emerge at the red of dawn
you will remember.

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Second Chances – Michele Vecchitto

~ thereluctantpoet

Go Dog Go Café

20190627_1621067329999956221499994.jpg

We almost discarded it, the rickety dresser that couldn’t quite find its center
It was covered in a fine layer of dust, the grime a testament to years of neglect
Each drawer was more stuck than the last as if it knew salvation was out of reach,
as if it understood there were better offerings, shiny and new, out there in the world somewhere

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Anticipation

~ thereluctantpoet

Sarah Doughty

“So, my love, won’t you take
all these thoughts away
and help me get lost in you?”

The mere thought
of having your hands
travel across my body
in a slow,
agonizing motion
leaves me weak
in the knees.
And I’m shaking
like a leaf,
anticipating the next time
those hands of yours
will find my skin again.
These goosebumps
only serve as a reminder
of how much
I crave your touch.
So, my love,
won’t you take
all these thoughts away
and help me get lost in you?

© Sarah Doughty

I need to feel you
like I need air in my lungs.

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