Telling The Truth
The moment you lit.
My tongue was rapt with freedom.
I felt emboldened
The Coffeehouse chat
I held my coffee mug tight
your gaze held mine
truth delivered black
always love and light
the devil in the corner
you remain blinded
Marketing, the new religion
You will not shush me.
Capacious spirit roaming,
mold broken, I’m freed.
Everyone should be familiar with Ruth Orkin’s most reknown image, the iconic 1951 “American Girl in Italy”.
I know! I do. You don’t need to remind me. I owe you three poems. They are coming forthwith.
Somewhere in the last week I lost a day. No doubt due to this being Good Friday, a day off work for me, and the beginning of a long weekend. This explains why I thought it was Friday all day yesterday.
But worse than the lost day, I lost a week. Now I would brush this off has having no significance, or…
I want to send you all the Pinterest Board Lizzi and I created for Helena Hann Basquiat’s Memoirs of a Dilettante. I received my book and post cards in the mail for from Helena and tore into the box like a kiddo on Christmas morning. On actual Christmas, not the week before when you find the present stash and unwrap and rewrap them in the closet. No, when you actually tear down the stairs and…
I came across Lee’s work while reading this poem. Now, I am a HUGE fan of realistic paintings. And when I first saw the first image below I thought it was a photograph. When I found out it wasn’t, I was blown away. I immediately scrambled over myself to find out what other glorious works awaited. Hence my current creative crush- Lee Price.
It’s my favorite day of the week. Friday Fictioneers has become my hump day remedy. In case you’re new to the game. Every Wednesday our illustrious host Rochelle Wisoff-Fields posts a photo prompt. Our challenge is to write a 100 word story, poem, whatever we like inspired by the the prompt. Give it a shot. I promise you’ll like it.
“The girls won’t…
My Beloved Husband said
“I want a new life”
Leaving seed planted in my womb.
“I don’t want any kids” he declared.
Or so it seemed this marriage either.
The choice you left mine.
But there was no choice really,
Now, our karmic debt’s paid
my pound of flesh sacrificed.