Tag Archives: WRITING CHALLENGE

strong bellows of wind

strong bellows of wind


surface snubbed as chilling air


coats my nasal hairs

 

© dld o1.o5.12

literal translation

frogs/throat.
tasty, like chicken/arid, like the desert, not moist like dessert last night…
I had five spoonfuls of honied caviar
*mmmm, was it good and soothing!
which was differebnt than five days ago.
swallow/tongue.
not the bird/not a cow’s.
it was the spoon that caused it.
it didn’t go down well at all,
in fact i almost ate my words.

© dld o7.24.11

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Once Upon A Time

Once upon a time, there was a woman who discovered she had turned into the wrong person. This is a story about things that happen for no apparent reason, other than to make connections between dreams of grandeur and the … Continue reading

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The Object of My Affectations, for now

The kitchen that I sit in, has many objects which require no immediate attention, except for when he speaks. Then, rest assured, an audience has been circularly formed of the four others in the room for him. His grey hair tells us that he is wise. His glasses let us know that he can no longer sense those minute details as well as he used to, but recollection requires no microscope. Collecting dust is not an option, time can be discerned in another way. There is no place for time here, it seems to get in the way of understanding the continuum, and we all know that there needs to be meaning to have purpose. This is how the object perceives objection. Rejections of which may be seen as a challenge rather than an out-and-out dismissal of therorems that have been quantified, recreated and justified; and just because’s that have been proven to exist because it has been announced and stated as so. He has citations, he says, to back this up.

I don’t know who birthed this amusing friend, although I do know that he lived at some point in the far west and now resides in the far east, a new englander now. He formulates this and that, but spends his free time talking to a large dog, tapping maple trees in March and dreaming of when he can visit Phoenix when they get the water situation under control so he can grow vegetables in the community garden.

——- ( okay, this won’t be sent in, J. W. … no one is really interested in Physicists anyway, right? )——-

-dld march 6th-

written for The Muse Is In:
Look around the room and pick an object.
Write one paragraph describing the object in full detail and
a second paragraph explaining where it came from (in reality or in fiction).

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For the Love of

“Where do I go from here, now that blood has been spilled on the canvas?”, Reanoldo wept, as he hit the machine. “I hoisted a flag to say I was done, was that not enough for you?, said while pounding … Continue reading

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