What If We Could Haiku the Pain Away?

A Book Review

Tranquility: An Anthology of Haiku

I am trying my best to fill my life with positive images, words, and people. Given our current situation, my heart needs it more than I thought it would. I do not want to come undone.

Enter, Tranquility: An Anthology of Haiku, edited by Gabriela Marie Milton and published by her team at Literary Revelations, is a book that is lifting me to higher places.

I’ve recommended this anthology before as an informative post, and to share that I, too, have five haiku published in it.

Here’s the review, shared on Amazon and Goodreads:

An Anthology of Creativity, Expressiveness, and Tranquility

Before I purchased this anthology, I knew it would be a work of art. There are over 230 writers and connoisseurs of haiku included, and with every turn of the page, a land of wonder awaits the reader.

Edited by Gabriela Marie Milton and published by Literary Revelations, the team has produced a book that is sure to stand the test of time.

It is an outstanding follow-up to Petals of Haiku: An Anthology, and is now placed alongside it on one of my bookshelves.

I appreciate and have an affinity for the form of haiku as it pertains to micropoetry, and every contributor shared their five haiku in creative and vividly expressed ways.

I have no doubt this book will be one I turn to when I need a place of calm as my personal retreat.

If you want to experience creativity at its highest, timely serenity, and be engulfed by the expressiveness throughout the anthology, then, I suggest this book for your collection.

We all could use a bit of tranquility.”

An overwhelming sense of calm would enter my body every time I picked up this book to read it. It’s as though every writer were in sync with one another.

We all understood the assignment. And I hope you’ll take the time and care to share with your heart a plethora of haiku that’ll definitely do it some good.


Have you gotten your copy of my new book: a collection of serial tales & flash fiction, Séduire (E-Book and Paperback) yet?

I recently signed up to write on Substack as well. Poking the Bear’s Belly for Fun is a place of healing as I speak about the most recent events with my place of employment, as it pertains to racism and discrimination. I welcome your visit.

The Beauty of Voyeurism

Flash Fiction response to Melissa’s Fandango Flash Fiction Prompt

Photo by Tetyana Kovyrina on Pexels. The image depicts a side view of a chipmunk with a tiny teacup. On the ground in front of the chipmunk is a tiny tea dish with a blueberry on it. The ground appears to be a stone-type walk, and there is a dark blue background.

Mr. Doyle lives across the street from us. He’s an older guy with wiry fire for hair in a golden rage. My mom hates him… says he’s on some sort of in-house arrest for his past following him all the way here. I don’t know what she’s talking about, but I like Mr. Doyle. He has this lisp that I bet could scale a ladder quicker than The Flash. I have tea and danishes with him twice per week. He paints nature–makes it pop.

Today’s piece is a chipmunk sipping from the tiniest teacup I’ve ever seen. He also has a rather fat blueberry on a plate in front of the chipmunk. “A proper breakfast”, I comment. Because who wouldn’t want tea and blueberries?!

He tells me he’s titling the painting The Beauty of Voyeurism, and I sit back on the green, crunchy cushions of his couch, swirl the name around in my mouth. I like it. But . . . “Why voyeurism? Isn’t this a more sexually derived term for being too nosy and too into what you’re snooping up on?”

Mr. Doyle rolls back and forth on the heels of his feet, nods his contemplative head, and shouts in my direction, “YOU ARE ABSOLUTELY CORRECT, SAM! If you notice, the chipmunk is focused, entirely too focused on the tea. The blueberry is lonely. It would like some of that attention, too. But the chipmunk has become enticed by, influenced by the deliciousness of the tea–so much so that its pleasure has been satiated by the tea alone.”

I know I ain’t the brightest crayon in the box, but I know at this point, exactly what Mom was talking about when she said Mr. Doyle has a past following him. I get up from the couch, grab my windbreaker, thank Mr. Doyle for the tea and danish, and high-tail it across the street.

Ain’t no way I’m telling Mom about this. NO WAY at all!


This flash fiction piece was written in response to Melissa’s Fandango Flash Fiction Challenge. Maybe you’d like to give it a go as well? Here’s hoping your mind doesn’t take you to where my mind took me. It was a fun write, nonetheless, though.


Have you gotten your copy of my new book: a collection of serial tales & flash fiction, Séduire (E-Book and Paperback) yet?

I recently signed up to write on Substack as well. Poking the Bear’s Belly for Fun is a place of healing as I speak about the most recent events with my place of employment as it pertains to racism and discrimination. I welcome your visit.

Peace and Blessings!

Tranquility: An Anthology of Haiku [Literary Revelations] is now on Amazon!

It’s a beautiful thing to see this magical book published in all its glory. I have five haiku included in this anthology, and I am beside myself with glee to be amongst a whole host of talented writers.


Dearest Contributors & Followers

Literary Revelations is delighted to inform you that Tranquility: An Anthology of Haiku is now available on Amazon. It was our utmost pleasure to publish everyone’s work. Thank you for your contribution, and please help us spread the word.


Or you can get it here:

The anthology is already racking up a plethora of accolades (which is no surprise) and Gabriela Marie Milton and Literary Revelations have been nothing short of stellar with informative posts, purposeful marketing, and a genuine excitement dished out to everyone. It’s glorious!

Gossip Channels at the Sahara Desert

Flash Fiction

The image is from Getty Images on Unsplash.

Stefan and Holly hadn’t left the community pond in two weeks. Their last outing found them chasing away a cackle of hyenas who were trying to attack the neighboring zebras. Stefan was no longer in his prime. At 37 years old, his body weight amassed to 6,200 lbs. Holly was his confidant – his forever feathered friend. She would fly to his nook of the pond every day, and the two of them would gossip about the goings-on of the Sahara.

Jeffery the Jackal was cheating on his wife Johnna. Callan the Cape Hare had been evicted by the burrow’s landlord. Murphy the Mongoose lost a finger to Alfred the Alligator (by accident) the night before last. And Cheyenne the Cheetah was in heat.

“Have you heard about Cheyenne, Holly?”

“No, what’s that old bitty up to now, Stefan?”

“Word about the Sahara is she’s in heat.”

“You don’t say!!! Will Clyde and Clifton be on the lookout then for her, you think?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t seen hide nor hair of those two since the last desert rainstorm.”

“My word! I hope she doesn’t come prancing over here with that scent of hers. We’ve got enough problems on this side of the pond. You heard about Jeffery, right?”

“The Jackal or the Giraffe?”

“The Jackal. Berta the Barbary Sheep caught him stepping out on Johnna.”

Stefan gasped, and a pent-up ball of air escaped his wide and viciously tooth-filled mouth.

“You don’t say! Didn’t they just have a whole new litter of little ones?!”

“They sure did! Four of the little pups, if I’m not mistaken. The nerve of that over-aged pimp! She needs to leave him!”

“I doubt she will, though. Two of the older children came back home to help out. Jeffery is the breadwinner – Johnna’s stuck. He’s got her right where he wants her, and that ain’t no place I’d wanna see any of my friends.” Stefan sighs discontentedly as he says this.

The Saharan sun bows its reddened glow and hovers over Stefan and Holly before closing its eyes. Pitch black is the night sky as the two wander gingerly back to the base of the pond. A day of gossiping, galloping, and gloating has met its end.

“Same time, same place, tomorrow, Stefan?”

“I’ll be right here, Holly.”


This flash fiction piece is in response to Melissa’s Fandango Flash Fiction Challenge. This was my first go at it, and I truly enjoyed writing this story. Perhaps you’d like to try your hand at this challenge, too?

Poetry As Your Guide To Intelligence

A Book Review

We Are Poetry. Photo Credit: Tremaine L. Loadholt

Sometimes, a book takes you down so many “Memory Lanes” that you just have to sit with it longer than you would. Kym Gordon Moore’s We Are Poetry is one of those books. I can tell that the author loves poetry, and she also loves learning about poetry.

Here is my review, which is shared via Amazon & Goodreads:

“Informative And Creative

Kym Gordon Moore does a fantastic job sharing her thoughts and observations about poetry, its origin, the writers who are well-known for it, and how we can all grow from it, and learn to use poetry as a form of expressiveness and encouragement.

I love how she pinpoints society’s best known poets against lesser known phenomenal writers and how we should be aware of them as well.

She not only shares these facts, but she also gives readers a tutorial of sorts into the various forms of poetry and how to write them. If you’re a lover of this genre of writing, you are going to be in heaven as you thumb through the pages of this book.

She closes the book with her original poems that make up a good portion of the book’s ending. I have to admit, for me, this is the meat of “We Are Poetry”–the part that fills the reader up.

Every poem stirs up a different emotion, and they are all very well-written. Kym did an excellent job weaving in comedic verse and reflective poems, too.

If you’re interested in learning different forms of poetry, reminiscing along with an author, and experiencing several emotions, too, then I recommend “We Are Poetry” to you. Your heart and mind will thank you.”


Get your thinking caps on and grab your learning tools. It’s time to give poetry the respect it is due!

What Would You Say First In Your Autobiography?

You’re writing your autobiography. What’s your opening sentence?

My original due date, relayed to my teenage mother, was April 1st, however, I was two weeks late–while still in the womb, I knew I wouldn’t be anyone’s fool, and I was right.


I tell people all the time about how I was two weeks late coming into this world, but I’ve been on time ever since. And I make it my life’s work to NOT be anyone’s fool.

If I could dodge an April Fools’ due date, I can avoid being a habitual fool for anyone.