Roses

Sarah Doughty

“Your body is beautiful. Not just
the soft parts. No part of you is ugly,
no matter what anyone says.”

Your body is beautiful. But not just the soft parts. The rose is only part of the entire flower. What good would a rose be without a little strength to protect itself? The thorns may not be as pretty as the petals, but they serve a purpose. Society has the same tendency to label things as ugly. So try to appreciate parts of you that protect you, too.

© Sarah Doughty
2018

You don’t have to label
everything about yourself
as pretty. But there is value
in appreciating everything.

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Vain

Confab With Me

The passion you showed detesting my prose, I wished you showed the same vigor in keeping your words

Copyright © Shantanu Baruah

Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this site’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Shantanu Baruah, ckonfab.com, and afflatuz.com with appropriate and specific direction to the original content

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Think On This – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

parallax

dVerse Poets – Meeting the Bar – O, Apostrophe

Amaya at dVerse has invited us to consider the creative idea of the apostrophe other than its technical use, rather as its poetic function in creating a change in the poem where the object speaks or is spoken to directly.

Photo: granite outcrop, Nungarin

“No matter how sophisticated you may be, a large granite mountain cannot be denied – it speaks in silence to the very core of your being.”  Ansel Adams

Think On This

In the stillness was the hardness,
a resistance I knew well
of footfall on granite,
what song shall you sing me
I threw, and it rang sharp,
came back the posit,
think on this tenderfoot,
softness cannot abide without
firm boundary,
compassion lies in
strength within,
O that I might be a rock
of such an age of wisdom.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

Paul, pvcann.com

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davidbrucehaiku: no way to store books

davidbruceblog #2

https://pixabay.com/photos/model-girl-sport-woman-fitness-4669520/

***

NO WAY TO STORE BOOKS

***

No way to store books

They should stand straight or lie flat

At least they look used

***

Free eBook: YOU’VE GOT TO BE KIND: Volume 1 (pdf)

Free eBook: YOU’VE GOT TO BE KIND: Volume 2  (pdf)

Free eBook: YOU’VE GOT TO BE KIND: Volume 3 (pdf)

Free eBook: YOU’VE GOT TO BE KIND: Volume 4 (pdf)

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Sketch

Haiku out of Africa

reaching deep within ~ delivering the vision ~ of a resting dream — © Lize Bard @ Haiku out of Africa

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Splendor in Sepia

Charmed Chaos

Jessie Tarbox Beals
America’s first female photojournalist
c. 1904

Making sense of black and white when we fall into the grey
Understanding where lines lie in this dramatic play

Looking through the camera lens with crystal clarity
Creating a somber mood with a stark disparity

Trying to capture what is real not how they wish to be seen
skillful eye looks beyond outer skin, peers into a soul deep

And in the light of the false, a flash takes her aback
and there in sepia -toned splendor with a startled shock
is the real she, peering back at me

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Post Traumatic Growth: Can Adversity Be Good for You? – Thriving Under Pressure

Can Adversity Be Good for You? In my latest video from a Positive Psychology Keynote at a Student Success Conference: You will hear the remarkable stories of teachers, social workers, and principal…

Source: Post Traumatic Growth: Can Adversity Be Good for You? – Thriving Under Pressure

Intersection

Megha's World

“Lovers don’t finally meet somewhere. They’re in each other all along.”
― Rumi

I’m looking fervently

for that limestone shade

those

crisscrossing lines

where our dreams

hope

desires

intersects

as we follow our own trajectory

but still,

they interject;

forming a

a pattern of the love

and its everlasting

ephemeral touch

those criss-cross

that weaves the fabric of love

latching my dreams and hope

in every loop, knot, and hold

that junction where our

souls

though different in the essence,

dance and whirls

to their own tunes

like a diffident swirling dervish

carrying that sweet zephyr of life

to the same song

joined at the hip

I wishfully hope

our life

intersects.

–Megha

Photo by Redd Angelo on Unsplash

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Grounded

Sarah Doughty

“You to keep me grounded, reminding me
that I’m right where I’m supposed to be.”

It’s been days since I’ve slept and the very foundation of my reality is shifting. I’m seeing the cracks between worlds now that my weary eyes aren’t focusing on what’s right in front of me. My skin, muscles, and sinew no longer feel just the gravity beneath me. I’m feeling a breeze where there should be none. I’m hearing whispers where there are no mouths to speak. I’m feeling the rain when I’m not outside. I am dreaming, yet I am awake. And the longer this lasts, the more I feel like I’m detaching from my body. Floating away with the storm. So, this is me. At my lowest. When I’m hyperaware and yet numb at the same time. Who knows how long I will remain in this realm of in-between? But I try not…

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most of all ~

tornadoday

the fields
blown whiter now
than first with winter squall
I wonder how they miss us here –
do they miss us
most of all

when evergreen
their branches brush
against an endless night
do they know
how hard the coming back
to a place within the light

an ancient star
once wished upon
when held beneath a worried chill
I wonder how it is
I knew –
how I would miss you
still

. . .

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