We are born to live…

johncoyote

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

Anita Dawes and Jaye Marie

Image by Peggychoucair from Pixabay ~ Poem by Anita Dawes 2022

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

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10 Types of Verbal Abuse To Be Aware Of

Lucy's corner

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 […]

10 Types of Verbal Abuse To Be Aware Of

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The Boogie-Woogie Man

Sgeoil

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. 

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Working through the feelings

Rhapsody Bohème

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

Ella Craig

Image source: insider.com

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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