In the Darkness of the City
September 25, 2016 7:52
In the darkness of the city a weapon clatters to the pavement.
Nobody listens.
The traffic clamours.
Always.
She was once moon-eyed and young, trying
Her wings.
Now, in a dark alley, a middle-aged woman lifts up her tear-stained
Face and is dragged behind the rubbish bins,
Into the shadows.
She lies amongst the rotting rubbish, she does not dare to breathe
Or move.
She listens.
The whole world leans back toward its own darkness,
And she leans into hers.
© Kim M. Russell, 2016
Image found on Pinterest
My response to imaginary garden with real toads Play It Again, Toads
For Play it Again, Toads, where archived challenges of the Imaginary Garden come to life again, I have chosen Grace’s James Wright challenge from December 2014, which is to write a new poem or prose poem in response to…
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I’m Not Moving, story by Linda McKenney (WHEN I MOVED Poetry and Prose Series)
September 25, 2016 7:51
I’m Not Moving
by Linda McKenney
Between the ages of eighteen and sixty-six, I moved eleven times.
From childhood home to grandma’s house when I married
To first apartment
To a different apartment
To grandma’s house
To our first home
To an apartment when I got divorced
To the home of my second husband
To a twenty-four-foot recreational vehicle
To an apartment
To a home in Tennessee
Just the thought of this list exhausts me. But not enough to prevent the eleventh move.
From Tennessee to a home in New York State.
We loved living in Tennessee. I remember when we first arrived, knowing no one, I had some trepidation. We’d left a rich life back in New York. Could we recreate it here? I remember thinking, “If I die in Tennessee, will anyone attend my funeral?’
We did make friends. Lots of them. And we acclimated to a somewhat…
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Good Morning
September 25, 2016 7:49
The echinacea flowers in the photo are definitely me this morning: no energy, wilting at the edges and less colour. I am now on the full dosage of my medicine, slowly coming to the end of my first monthly pack and everything is going OK. I have now got used to injecting every second day. It is not fun, but I now feel like I am a professional. There are side effects, mainly flu symptoms according to the doc and his merry men and women. This is OK, but a little more precise information would have been welcome, like chlls, joint pains and fever. I have been taken an ordinary fever tablet after injecting to minimise the symptoms. Of course, me being me and not really wanting to spend my nights drugged up, I decided to leave the flu tablet away to see if the symptoms were gradually disappearing. They…
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Moving was never easy, poem by Sunil Sharma (WHEN I MOVED Poetry and Prose Series)
September 25, 2016 7:46
Moving was never easy
by Sunil Sharma
Leaving is always tough…because everything calls.
The walls that were dull and dreary now look different and
suck in with a force = the gravitational pull.
The rooms are stripped — just a jumble of concrete dimensions
and become again a structure of concrete-n-glass hulking over you.
The bare floors echo the lingering footfalls — amplified, broken symphony of sounds varied
A tread here. A jump there. A skip over there.
A curving sound that ultimately dies down, once the doors are clicked shut.
Navigating the detritus of the past requires skill, patience, otherwise
one can trip, entangled by a protruding wire or the boxes, tiles and papers, forming a sea of crumpled memories, for the new owner/tenant to dispose/ clear.
The staircase, the windows, the uneven roads, the facades, the smog!
Well, every detail fascinates and matters; for the last time, the…
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