Memorable writing that sparks imagination. Lean in. Hear the writer’s voice on the page. Totally Awesome By Caitlin Cunningham I was an eighties girl. I embraced the radical change away from the disco and traditional rock music that I did not really care for when I was young. The eighties brought an entirely new sound that I loved. It was fresh and energetic. After I turned twenty-one, I went to nightclubs frequently in the eighties, I would dance to every song, not caring who asked me. I just wanted to dance all night long. And the outfits we all wore—so much black and neon. Most clubs had black lights that made our colored accessories glow… as well as the lint on our black garments. There were a few clubs I frequented regularly, both at home and at college. I remember one place that was a former Safeway grocery store converted…
Category: Sparks
Memorable writing that sparks imagination.
A Love Letter to Myself
Memorable writing that sparks imagination. Lean in. Hear the writer’s voice on the page. A Love Letter to Myself By Luz Leyden I love that you are embracing all the ‘unfortunate events’ you have experienced and are trying to encapsulate them in writing so that you are insulated from them and their effects. You are a caterpillar who has formed a chrysalis and you are digesting yourself inside so that you can emerge transformed, free, able to fly, released from your former life and all its restrictions. That process and that bravery deserves admiration, respect, and love. I will try to do what is right for you. I will try to steer you towards light, towards enlightenment, towards your real self. I admire your bravery in staying sane through everything you have endured, despite callous provocation. Stay strong. Luz Leyden lives in Ireland where she writes . . . sometimes…
Night Knight
Memorable writing that sparks imagination. Lean in. Hear the writer’s voice on the page. Night Knight By Su Shafer We spend almost every night together. I’m not away from home often But when I am, I ache And I don’t sleep well. I am uncomfortable with The hardness of strangers The impersonal coarseness Or aloof purist sterility. There is never the welcoming I get at home. The soft embrace, The understanding. At home there is no judgment Or pressure that I am not doing enough, No criticism that I am not enough My bed cradles me like a mother. I am held in a cocoon of love I never want to leave. I close my eyes and my bed hums A silent lullaby Sleep dear one Tired caterpillar Your work will wait Dream of wings And drinking flowers Wake up the butterfly That you…
Wants In a World of Plenty
Memorable writing that sparks imagination. Lean in. Hear the writer’s voice on the page. Wants In a World of Plenty By DSBriggs I just want to… Laugh aloud. Stay Alive. Keep learning. Keep mobile. Keep learning to let go. Keep loving. I just want to… Shout at the Government. Shout at prejudice. Shout at stupidity. Shout at injustice. Shout at the mess. I just want to… See Children playing. Hear laughing. Taste warm bread. Smell fresh rain in the forest. Touch my dog’s velvety ears. I just want to … Accept the pain that comes with death of loved ones. Accept that I do the best I know how. Accept help graciously as I age. Accept that my way is only one way of many. Accept forgiveness. Accept that some things are unforgivable. I just want to: Continue to write, and be a…
Rain Dog, a Pantoum
Memorable writing that sparks imagination. Lean in. Hear the writer’s voice on the page. Rain Dog, a Pantoum By Suse Pareto Dog is bored and restless. Rain is pouring down. I’m loath to leave this comfy bed, but walk we must, says she. Rain is pouring down, the road is sodden and feckless. But walk we must, says she, up to the woods we go. The road is sodden and feckless. The hills are wet and slick. Up to the woods we go, Dog barks in great delight. The hills are wet and slick, rain drips from leaf and stick. Dog barks in great delight, “Water slithering, sliding everywhere!” Rain drips from leaf and stick. The gullies run fast and wild, water slithering, sliding everywhere, it’s like the earth has burst. The gullies run fast and wild, Dog nips at water’s tumble. It’s like the…
Smiling
Memorable writing that sparks imagination. Lean in. Hear the writer’s voice on the page. Smiling By Jenny Beth Schaffer Smiling, after a certain age, is an act of boldness and an invitation to danger because already there are enough lines and wrinkles in your face that the very last thing you want to do is aggravate the problem. Because as everyone knows perfectly well, each smile takes a tiny toll on the elasticity, the buttery lacquer of your already anxious countenance. It’s a high-risk situation, this smile or not smile gambit, one requiring the weighing of the pros and cons, and typically you have just milliseconds to make the decision. Look no further than Wile E. Coyote to understand the consequences of split second decisions. Someone passes on the street, a stranger perhaps, casting the sunshine of their toothiness in your direction. What. Do. You. Do? It calls for a…
One Shrug for Chocolate Chip and Two for Peanut Butter
Memorable writing that sparks imagination. Lean in. Hear the writer’s voice on the page. One Shrug for Chocolate Chip and Two for Peanut Butter By Robin Mills Olive made her way slowly down the aisle. The Canyon Country Store was older than even her grandma. It had been there when the road that snaked up and over the hill from the valley side to the city side was just dirt. The floors creaked, oak rubbing oak. When the 3:00 bell rang, most kids piled onto the stubby-nosed yellow bus, the small kind, not the long sleek yellow bus with rounded edges. There were not enough kids up in the canyon to warrant a big bus like that, so they got the small version. But Olive preferred to walk. It gave her a chance to look at things and even occasionally find something another walker had unknowingly dropped. And when she…
Holiday ABC’s
Memorable writing that sparks imagination. Lean in. Hear the writer’s voice on the page. Holiday ABC’s By Mary O’Brien When home alone in December, your options are: a) make ornaments b) bake goodies c) work on art project d) write Christmas poem f) practice using new corkscrew, make sure it works on reds, whites, as well as blushes g) clean out dryer lint filter, put lint in all of hubby’s jacket pockets h) phone long lost friend, sing carols to them i) see if cinnamon bears float in bathtub j) tape mini lights in spiral on carpet, making a yellow brick road k) try moonshine pickles, eat with chopsticks l) make pickle ornaments m) write ugly letter to Santa n) set fire to letter using fumes from pickles o) play Here Comes Santa Claus on keyboard using meow meow sounds p) write Christmas cards on pieces of burned toast q)…
Make Light in the Dark
Memorable writing that sparks imagination. Lean in. Hear the writer’s voice on the page. Make Light in the Dark A Letter of Forgiveness to Myself by Caryl Sherman Dearest pale, broken, and lonely sit up stretch out your arms take a deep cleansing breath You don’t have to hold yourself apart from others anymore Cradle your intention slowly rock away the fears long to see the light listen to the raindrops splash away the tears Forgive yourself be a better purveyor of your own destiny Ever changing and growing with age intentionally litter your psyche with sprinkles and multi-colored streamers Dance Make light in the dark hold yourself in the palm of love Your humbled heart is right here… in the best place at the right time in our mutual care Live joy no matter what reminisce in laughter forgive again You…
In Praise of Christmas Tree Farms
Memorable writing that sparks imagination. Lean in. Hear the writer’s voice on the page. In Praise of Christmas Tree Farms By Sus Pareto Yesterday I drove to Larsen’s Christmas Tree Farm, about two miles from my house. It was a balmy fall afternoon, and the road to the farm was lined with poplars and willows dappled in gold. Up ahead, I saw the red and green sign pointing to a narrow driveway which led to a dell where a yellow clapboard house and outbuildings gathered. Just a normal, traditional Petaluma farm — except when Christmas tree season opens. Like an explosion, the quiet dell surrounded by acres of orderly pine trees becomes a bustling hub of people and cars. As if by magic, gossiping groups of pre-cut trees have popped up while a tree-bagging station, ticketing station, and cookies-and-hot chocolate stand wait nearby. The barn has become a Christmas…