Stranded in Socal
At work sometimes I walk to a concrete fence under the burning sun, and I write prose poems on my phone.
1. Where does the dream end? 76 more words
1 hour, 48 minutes
Failure Loves Company
Hype is an amazing pair of goggles, as is confusion. If you can bewilder an audience with enough style and controversy, it fools people into thinking your content is good: this applies to any form of art. 270 more words
Digging Through the Fat
by Dani Purcell
Out, she says, she wants it out. Her choice weapon is a pill in a small brown bag and she stares at it in her lap as she chain-smokes on the drive home.
16 hours, 56 minutes
Songs of Fragile Thunder
The sharp mint of lavender with their hands and feet. It’s a dance of the sway. The back and forth, and the two-timing tang of snapping twigs, plucking nails. 244 more words
1 day, 4 hours
The Mockingbird Sings
we belong…. at the summit, in the open sky, facing the future, the unknown, the night.
I can write a poem while in a reclining position bare-naked. 308 more words
1 day, 14 hours
THE POET BY DAY
Join us on The Bardo Group blog tomorrow for Writers’ Fourth Wednesday. This event is hosted by Victoria C. Slotto, novelist, poet and writing coach. 489 more words
2 days, 1 hour
U Be Cute
Maybe one day I shall become a poet,
and write a book. Each page will be
enjambed with my tongue.
I shall publish it on recycled paper… 67 more words
2 days, 3 hours