By Charles Robert Lindholm
The
Real Villains Continue reading
Day: September 8, 2019
ADVICE
The Word of the Day is Advice.
Write a Poem, story or anecdote, inspired by this word.
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Most Importantly, Have Fun.
Unnoticed – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon
dVerse Poets – Open Link Night
Photo: thenation.com
“Until they become conscious, they will never rebel.” George Orwell ‘1984’
Unnoticed
Naturally
the watchers watch,
even of themselves they dutifully report,
but no one watches the watchers
while they are watching you
not watching,
benignly trusting
so unaware of the surrender
made without flag or treaty
folding so easily it went unnoticed,
and nothing seems different at all,
unless, of course,
you dare to have an opinion.
©Paul Vincent Cannon
Paul, pvcann.com
#SoCS Sept. 7/19
Linda’s #SoCS prompt this week:
The Friday Reminder and Prompt for #SoCS Sept.7/19
September 6, 2019byLindaGHill3 Comments
It’s the last day of the workweek and time for your Stream of Consciousness Saturday prompt. It’s been a crazy week for weather on this side of the Atlantic. Hope everyone is and stays safe and dry. Here’s your prompt:
Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “weigh/way/whey.” Use one, use ’em all, bonus points if you do that last thing. Enjoy!
The way to reduce the amount you weigh is to use whey protein in your shakes!
Boom!
Playground
“My soul lives among the shadows.
But it’s also the land on my redemption.”
My body rots in the warm sun. It pierces my skull like a thousand tiny blades cutting with perfect precision. To make each jab hurt worse than the last. This, my brightened surroundings, are rays beating down onto my scorched flesh, laughing at my inability to coexist in its presence. It taunts me, reminding me that I don’t belong. But I know my place. My soul lives among the shadows, dances with the moon, and twinkles with the stars in the night sky. This, where my demons live and thrive, is my prison. This, my world of darkness, is my salvation. This, where anything is possible, is my redemption. This is my playground.
© Sarah Doughty
2016
I adapted.
So can you.
Photo is mine.
High Sierra
frozen water splits
granite as it expands
slowly and surely like
a wedge it’s a patient
game that has already
been won it needs only
time night chill to play out
Nature’s burden
Mleiha Archaeological Centre
The birds sing the same songs every morning, the wind dances through the grass, the sun leaves nothing to the imagination.
I push myself forward, my heart paces faster, my skin wrestles with the heat. I thought I escaped, but every step I take leads me to the same place.
The birds stop singing, the wind flees the scene, the sun shies away. It passes by in purple. Its wings take charge of time, as the pillars erected by nature turn yellow and begin to fall behind me. Are those trails it’s leaving? Aren’t they built to last?
People walk past me. I look at the ground, trying to avoid the cracks of time. I see something, and it breaks under my feet. Painted orange by old age, it fails to fight the heaviness of my weight.
Everyone sees black, but I’m disillusioned by its façade. Amidst…
View original post 48 more words
Scene
what could never be ~ peaceful and without mourning ~ we buried our hearts —© Lize Bard @ Haiku out of Africa
Indulging in Sacrifice to Discover Productivity – Daily Quote
Friday night dinner plans are a pleasure. I look forward to the ritual. I meet my friends, to enjoy a wonderful meal while we catch up on the week’s happenings. We tell jokes, laugh and celebrate the highs and lows life throws at us.
Please don’t force me to wake before dawn, turn on a bright screen, and write. I am not a morning person, in fact, I bear no resemblance to anything remotely human until after my second cup of coffee. My grunts and groans are unintelligible, stringing two words together is an impossibility, concocting coherent sentence… well, that’s not happening. I have learned to avoid my weaknesses.
But I don’t consider it a sacrifice to write on Friday night. It is pure bliss. Ordering carry-out is decadent, no cooking or cleaning lets me kick back, and indulge my passion for writing.
Do you write on Friday night?
_________________________________________
Keep on…
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I forgive you
Forgiving is not easy but I forgive you
All those years of putting up with your temper,
It has left scars, I’ll not hold it against you.
I thought my love would change you
But you were not ready to change
Forgiving is not easy but I’ll forgive you.
I was loyal and committed to you
You never trusted but called me names
It has left scars, I’ll not hold it against you.
Always raging against the world and me too,
Expecting me to fight your demons too
Forgiving is not easy but I forgive you.
Blaming others for the faults in you
Playing the victim while victimizing me,
It has left scars, I’ll not hold it against you.
No one is responsible for your life but you
But you used me as your punching bag,
Forgiving is not easy but I forgive you,
It has left scars, I’ll not…
View original post 4 more words
The Reluctant Poet 