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Literature Text
No phrases taste of the same air,
No flavors matched across sea and land,
For that which only tongues declare
Do little to flames but fan.
And the poet's kindling, letter
And flair, burn quickly in comparison
To the spirit's sound, a better
Fuel to prepare peace upon.
So then to wholly unify, or
Merely rest, with all nations curled,
We poets cannot speak, for
It takes one note to play the world.
No flavors matched across sea and land,
For that which only tongues declare
Do little to flames but fan.
And the poet's kindling, letter
And flair, burn quickly in comparison
To the spirit's sound, a better
Fuel to prepare peace upon.
So then to wholly unify, or
Merely rest, with all nations curled,
We poets cannot speak, for
It takes one note to play the world.
Literature
What A Wonderful World
It was so pretty the day that they told me that I had cancer. The sun was shining and I could hear the birds chirping outside. My husband of ten years was sitting beside me, his still young face furrowed in concern.
"Mrs. Lizborden…" I really couldn't tell you what they told me; I didn't want to hear them at all. It wouldn't do anything for my soul. "…only three months to live…..so sorry." I felt small tears streaming down my face and still I was smiling; I always smiled. I hoped that when these three months were done that I'd still be smiling.
"Do I have to stay in the hospital?" I asked softly. The doctor shook his head.
Literature
bikinis
dark enough to watch
light rip a canvas sky
from the sidewalk
where it is nice to be
the smallest thing.
dark enough to write
obituaries on post-its
for school mascots and
models that can't tell
image from imagery.
dark enough, still, to wish
laughter was in time-lapse
so grey summer days
would look better in
bikinis.
and dark enough to go swim
anyway, in your pool
for the first time
since you moved away
and it's dark.
it was never
as kids kicking
water into fruit
on your birthday.
little siblings
crying on the porch
and big neighbors
throwing you
on their shoulders,
casting silhouettes
of loch-ness monsters
unt
Literature
Tatenda's Wings
The thrum of the Songspinner's web signals the coming of the umuvi. They will shriek from the sky and take us, one at a time. Their fangs will drip with the stilling-poison. Their bellies will be fat with eggs. The Songspinner says that the umuvi will take any bucabu they find back to their nests, paralyze us, and lay eggs in our stomachs. We will still be alive when the starving little umuvi hatchling makes its first meal of us.
From the days before my first web, I remember these stories. As all young bucabu, I thought they were told only to frighten us. So I thought, until the Songspinner's thrum one night many star-turns ago. The next mor
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Featured in Groups
Written for the Project Evolution contest with the theme of World Fusion.
I am a member of the group
My topic here is simply music, which glues us to the spirit of the earth and spans all across the globe, a work of art and a thing of beauty. And I personally believe it can do more than words could ever do, conveying more than what we can simply say. I urge everyone to watch this video, 'tis very entertaining in case you don't want to listen to a lecture or something like that, but it also says something profound about our truly human universal language: [link]
I am a member of the group
My topic here is simply music, which glues us to the spirit of the earth and spans all across the globe, a work of art and a thing of beauty. And I personally believe it can do more than words could ever do, conveying more than what we can simply say. I urge everyone to watch this video, 'tis very entertaining in case you don't want to listen to a lecture or something like that, but it also says something profound about our truly human universal language: [link]
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Wow, Amazing 