Month: December 2018

December’s Visual Verse Prompt

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It has been a few months since I have posted something from Visual Verse. Truth be told, the last few prompt pictures, I sincerely did not care for, and when I cannot be prompted, then there’s nothing that comes from the art presented to the Writers from my mind to the screen, however, this month–I truly enjoyed the artwork used and I wanted to create something a bit fun, creative, yet emotional too. As always, I will post a snippet of the piece here, then direct you to it in its entirety via the website.

A big thank you to Visual Verse for letting this one fly.

Brushstrokes:

she’s gifted, you know?
that’s what the administrators
at our school say of her.
she’s “exceptional”, “amazing”
“vibrant” and “eclectic”.
she has her own style.
I’ve watched her work,
watched her splay the brush
back and forth, making art
quicker than anyone I have ever known.
with simple brushstrokes,
an inanimate object
comes to life.

You can read the rest here. As I stated above, I truly enjoyed this month’s prompt and I am anxious to see what January will offer. As always, thank you for reading.

I Thought To Call, But…

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Musical Selection: Ohio Players|Heaven Must Be Like This

Winter storm Diego, December, 2018.

it is cold, the snow is melting
after layering the streets of North Carolina
and I am sitting here,
like a fool trapped in her thoughts,
thinking about you and your words.

I thought to call you,
maybe you’d like to reminisce too
but I know you are not interested
in the past the way that I am.
you have always been eager to
run toward the future,
your heart hanging out of your shirt,
flailing on the ragged seams,
pretending to be true.

I was going to call, but
my neighbor forgot to pick
up after his dogs and I spent thirty minutes
arguing with myself about telling him to
handle his dogs’ business, then I remembered
how you used to say,
“You are too passionate about this world”
and I decided to keep my mouth shut.

it is still cold, the elderly woman downstairs
shuffles with her cane and taps the back
of her car and snow falls quickly to
an early death.
she coughs, cancer rattling in her chest and I
thought, I should call you…

but what would I say?

Originally published in The Junction via Medium

*Author’s Note: This past weekend, North Carolina was pummeled by Diego, a storm categorized as a “winter storm” and winter does not officially begin until December 21, 2018. Just my area alone — Winston-Salem, a city in Central North Carolina received fourteen inches of snow. That does not include sleet and ice. Let me put that in layman’s terms for anyone wondering — we received our annual snowfall estimated accumulation in just one day. One day. For a city that is used to measurable snowfall each year, usually not reaching double digits, we have handled it exceptionally well. December 17, 1930, was the last time we received over one foot of snow. Let that sink in for a minute.

We Will Not Be Silenced: I Have My Copy. Do You Have Yours?

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Survivors write and contribute art of their survival in this Anthology. All proceeds will benefit a great cause. It would be great to live in a world where something like this isn’t needed, but… that isn’t our reality.

We Will Not Be Silenced… is available now via Amazon. The Writers collective for this anthology is a jaw-dropping list and I will name a few: Sarah Doughty, Ali Grimshaw, and Candice Louisa Daquin. 

I have my copy. Do you have yours?

Courtesy of Youversion Bible App

Even the most subtle hint of creating change can bring out the beasts of the world. An army can obliterate them. The problem is, we don’t have enough people willing to don his or her armor to fight for what’s right in the open when the light is perfectly set. Fear is a mongrel, steadfast when it has a target. “Stand up for something or fall for anything.”