Today, I was nominated for a Liebster award by fellow blogger, Sonali, of the blog Just Me (https://justmecompany.wordpress.com/) Thank you very much to Sonali. Below is my response to this nomination. About Sonali and Just Me According to Sonali's About Me (https://justmecompany.wordpress.com/about-me/): Hello beautiful people, I’m Sonali, the author of Just me. I’m an 18 year old from … Continue reading 2020 Liebster Nomination (Sonali)
the butterfly must lament, even if briefly, the loss of the cocoon, mourning departure from familiar home. unaware its new form, yet undefined, a shape emerges from cracked and peeling shell, losing as it does the smell of safety, tight pressure against aching limbs, eyes wet with dew and tears for what is no more… … Continue reading a winged lament
There is a soul sickness in the church. I can smell it on them As they stumble in to the American Legion on Burma Ave And proceed to verbally and emotionally abuse the serving staff Then retreat to their huddled circles To debate whether their all-encompassing love Could ever be extended to those whose values … Continue reading On a Sunday Morning in October
I remember when Our eyes opened With the rising of the sun The smell of morning air And a renewal that cannot quite be captured In words Can only be felt But for a moment I remember standing Behind a frozen pane of glass Staring out Into a world of swirling white Wondering Whether there … Continue reading Of What, I Am Not Certain
Sometimes it comes Without notice Without warning With a flash A bolt across Azure skies Arcing From the great expanse To the great below At times There is devastation left in its wake Blackened trees And split earth The smell of burnt air Long after the sudden storm And sometimes still It leaves no trace … Continue reading A Bolt Across Azure Skies
Water and stone Skin and bone Life and death Together or alone Even as cold wind blows above fields freshly coated in a light dusting of white snow The smell of spring is already being prepared in the soil below Even as the sun shines down above blistering blacktop coated in fresh lines of white … Continue reading Water and Stone
Strike. Fall. Rain on hollow oak. Moss grows quietly on the hillside. Drawing moisture from the cool air. The smell of decaying leaves fills nostrils. I sit on the ancient stone precipice, Staring out into the abyss, Watching the stars move slowly across the dark sky.
Some run from what they fear Seeking solace in that which is undefined to them They curl Like pages from a nearby flame Growing darker from the heat nonetheless Others live in such a way That they avoid all perceived threats Distant from the battlefield Hearing only of the horrors In passing tales But fear … Continue reading You Are So Much More