via Wrestling the Blue Continue reading
Latest Entries
Correspondence
“The child is both a hope and a promise for mankind,” Maria Montessori. A letter and a packaged for me arrived a few days ago from one of my students in China. He is a superbly intelligent ten-year-old with a heart of gold. Continue reading
Tribute to Yeats
“When you are old and gray and full of sleep and nodding by the fire… ” I will take the book from your shaky hands and read then become the silk-sewn voice from your memory. I will help you see through your cloudy eyes, the pureness of heart, the beauty of spirit. As you nod … Continue reading
Thursday poetry and short story competition #4 : the results!
via Thursday poetry and short story competition #4 : the results! Continue reading
Thursday poetry and short story competition #4
via Thursday poetry and short story competition #4 Continue reading
Voyage
So the myth unfolds here From pages marred with brushstrokes of ocean The beleaguered boat sloshing to shore In a brawny gyre Upon these waves, the tossed dreams of eons The toll of battles Stifled cries and sunken jewels The soft copper of your hair Streams from the mast Of a pirate ship As you … Continue reading
The Tan Man
The tan man from Violent Shadow Magazine writes in hieroglyphics and speaks in the glib tongue of entertainment. His lean shadow shimmers in neon and strikes a black mark upon the city streets. The essence of him lingering long after the night has captured and sealed the evidence. Tan man ferrets out a news story … Continue reading
Obsidian
The landscape has turned into a carpet of crows, winter desperate. Then, there are your eyes. Obsidian, but bright, gleaming like a cotton field in the night. as bereft as any corn farmer sowing drought. The eyes scan the banks of a river that is jumbled with the verdancy of jungle plants green enough to … Continue reading
Where Dragons Blaze
When he got the news that day, his mother had said, “Quick, go to your room.” The look on her face Ashen and strained. His father in a desert a world away. Dead. No, that’s not what she said. How could it be? His father the teacher, the everyday architect of his dreams. “He’s not … Continue reading
Mister Ominous
Dear Louise, I want you to know It’s okay here at the corner of Arbor & Third where the English ivy vines and cannas warble praises of one stoic summer. The seasons run like blue veins pockmarked by calendar time each year bleeding into the next broken arteries. Sometimes I dwell in the hallway where … Continue reading
