Monday, November 12, 2018

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Writing can be extremely challenging. It can keep you from sleeping, eating, and being around people. It can cause you more stress than you can imagine when all you’re trying to do is produce a story which you love, and believe others will feel the same toward. You see, when you’re not writing just to please yourself, an audience of one, but to sell your story to the literary marketplace, it can quickly become one of the hardest actions you’ll ever do. You must be completely excited about the story, its characters, its places, sounds and energy; because if you don’t, others simply will not.... Read More


The defenders used my knowledge of the city to pass massages between the posts. I became a runner. We can’t see the posts from here, but they were nothing more than ordinary apartments: bedrooms, kitchens and living rooms. As the British often hunted for weapons and underground members, we kept the rooms inconspicuous, just like in any other poverty stricken room with piles of mattresses and blankets, washing bowls and dirty dishes.

The Quarter was under siege, and as we were always hungry, I took it upon myself to find food. I met with Salwa, my best friend, in our secret... Read More

Few things are more magical and exciting to me than sleeping in the garden under a starry sky. But when that is not doable, sleeping in a delightful hodgepodge of sheets and pillows in as many flowery patterns as possible is my very next favorite thing!

I don’t mind at all that every pillow shows a different pattern, or that neither sheets nor pillows match with each other. I don’t mind the mismatched combination of colors either, if they’re all pastels. I like different shades of pale pink together. There are so many shades of pink, and they all look beautiful together, to me.

... Read More

Act 1

Scene: She drops her glass upon being startled by a bird’s call. Time suspends, or more correctly, slows. The glass in it’s decent barely tilts, there being enough liquid to keep the glass’s center of gravity perpendicular to the surface below. As the moment of impact arrives, the glass has only just begun to tilt, and thus, strikes the paving stones upon one edge of the bottom of the glass, emitting a sharp rejoinder to the call of the bird across the plaza where the outdoor café is set. It shatters in slow motion, shards spraying mostly in the direction opposite of the edge... Read More

We in the West love our leaders, our celebrities, our larger-than-life individuals that we place on pedestals as icons for the rest of us to emulate. These prodigals, whether they be captains of industries like Steve Jobs, economic leaders such as Warren Buffet, or political leaders like Desmond Tutu, serve as shining lights that give example as the best and the brightest that the rest of us lowly mortals can only aspire to.

That they are highly achieving individuals there is no doubt, but they are only men, with human limitations. Their cult -like identities are constructs devised for... Read More

Its a long way back from the edges of life. I knew when I followed that path, way out to the edge of my experience, my emotions raw and excited with newness of knowledge and feeling, that the price for this wonder may be, the journey back. Its so beautiful on the way out to that edge. My soul so easily amazed by pleasures which offer no sure guidance, pleasures which deceive with their passion. This excitement is the elixir of madness offered by my wayward senses to lure me beyond the wise and sure. Looking at my experiences, I recognize the most painful ones are the ones that had extreme... Read More

I loved someone with a genuine love. It was not returned to me and in fact, I was spurned. I turned away, saddened by my gullibility at having opened up like I did. After a time of mulling on the lost love, I realized, I still loved that person and by having that love, I discovered things about myself that were lost to me before. I learned to dance, and, I found my gift of music that was lost for many years. So then, I ask myself, “should I look on this as a bad thing?” I say, NO! I am the richer for having loved than holding myself back. Loving brings to us, the person doing the loving,... Read More

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Recent Comments

Musings Of A Poet

Agree Barb, throwing the baby out with the bath water 'aint the answer. Take care. :>)

Musings Of A Poet

I know Rigina, when it takes a week for legite comments to appear it is upsetting, and it is killing the site slowly. Surely there must be a better way to address the spammers and floggers. Also taking away ratings if you do not post in a period of...

Musings Of A Poet

ed i was one of the original complainers about people using this site to flog their stuff. Now legite comments don't show?