Shout out to Gabriela Maria Milton, Ingrid and Nick on the Cover Release and Anthology coming soon!
Source: Wounds I Healed: Poetry of Strong Woman | Unique Times
Day: April 6, 2022
We are born to live…
We are born to live
A Poem byCoyote Poetry
I need a year living near the sea.”
We are born to live…
The Monterey dark poet loved the street artist. Male or female, who can create with their hands. Everlasting beautiful artwork, beautiful things for the world to observe. He would befriend them, sit with them and discuss everything.
I met Maya in her studio last year in the mini-mall in Pacific Grove and she allowed me to watch her paint. She came to my poetry readings and she would listen to my words. We would sit by the sea and drink coffee after the Poetry reading. She asked me to come at-will and read to her at her studio. We would hold hands and steal soft kisses watching the Pacific dance for…
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Don’t Run… #Poetry
Don’t Run I run around the world Searching for something that’s behind, tapping me on the shoulder the faster I run the harder they tap the wind whispers turn around it’s all there, waiting for you I stop, I turn, I stare Into the mirror I hear, don’t run… ©AnitaDawes2022
Thought for the day… #Meme
The quote must be tattooed on me somewhere, for I have this mortal fear of stopping.
I suppose I will have to one of these days, but I am happy to simply slow down a little…
10 Types of Verbal Abuse To Be Aware Of
Some people may think that verbal abuse is easily recognizable in a relationship, but that isn’t always the case. It’s not always as obvious as being screamed at or spoken down to. Many women can find themselves in relationships where they are being verbally abused and they don’t even realize it’s happening. Berit Brogaard, D.M.Sci., Ph.D., helps us […]
The Boogie-Woogie Man
The bogeyman is said to live under my bed To give me nightmares with all kinds of scares And when the lights go out he will come about But there is nothing to fear except his good cheer He pulls out his smokes and he tells me jokes The kind to make Grandmama blush I laugh aloud, he whispers hush hush Then he hands me some candy it's all so dandy We bounce on the bed until our faces turn red We're up until five dancing the jive And when the street light goes out he has to cutout He's my boogie-woogie man and I'm his biggest fan ©Heather Carr-Rowe
NaPoWriMo - Day 5 - write a poem about a mythical person or creature doing something unusual – or at least something that seems unusual in relation to that person/creature.
A Book Next, Perhaps?
Shangri-la
Come And Enjoy This!!!
Working through the feelings
As I said before, the nights are the worst. When the body comes to rest from a day’s worth of work and the mind gets a chance to catch up. Sometimes the sadness creeps in because reminders surface and the memories of a time long gone haunts me. A time with certain parts to it that I miss, that I want back, parts I haven’t accepted that they are gone, to never return. These parts still hurt and somehow I feel they will continue to hurt for the rest of my life. Some parts can’t be healed no matter how hard we try.
Mom kept everything and today I threw away my Konfirmation cards that date back to 1979. I also looked through every condolence card for my Dad’s accidental death, dating back to 1974. I threw most of those as well. While I continue to give away freely most…
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D is for Dissonance
An attempt to produce a poem or story from now until the end of April (except Sundays)
The theme for the 2022 A to Z Challenge is the human condition.
Snow White’s stepmother couldn’t deny the truth: her mirror made sure of that. Just like mine does. Every day, the lines deepen and spread: trench warfare on my face.
The rest of me is in worse condition, but I hide it from view. Only my doctor and husband get to see my crepey skin with its spreading orange peel bloom of cellulite. Dimples are cute on the faces of small children, not on middle-aged arses.
But my doctor doesn’t notice, and hubby doesn’t care. To him, I’m still the skinny Minnie with wonky teeth who threw up all over him at our graduation ball. I wasn’t even drunk. But that night I discovered I had an allergy…
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The Reluctant Poet 