AGE:
37
LOC: Seth, WV
GEN: Female
LAST LOGIN: September 08
LOC: Seth, WV
GEN: Female
LAST LOGIN: September 08
Being a single mother of two, writing is a luxury as alone time is so rare. I try anyway. I graduated with a BA in Literature & Prof. Writing from a multicultural college in WV, and I hope to return to grad school soon. Music, guitar, and writing are some of my hobbies of which I would like to devote more time.
I have had several original poems and one short story published locally in an annual publication. I write all forms of poetry and prose with an emphasis on the crafted and structured poem using rhyme, rhythm, sound, and meter. I like to experiment with voice, diction, race, gender, and class. I deal mainly with regional settings and situations to better understand stereotypes and gender roles as they unfold and apply in my life….
Items
Version 1
2 Reviews
0 Comments
Forked-tongue and winged stalkers' endless chasing sights of my night-walking twisted distorted faces hissing, hissing Frozen by fear my legs disappear useless attempts of running terrors steal my voice I wake in soundless screaming shrieking, shrieking Tossed in jostled reality nightmare's chaotic demons upheaval of wicked and evil long, deep, and breathing howling, howling Doomed-sleep hinges unfold screams lucid and chilling signal death's finishing blow flamed torches band a coventry hu...
Version 2
1 Review
2 Comments
Near the last kid's holler in the rented backroom fists cracked and vexed with eager cruelty fuse Impossibly fast and fleeting his eyes in constant motion scanning for the door he confronts a bigger problem Their daughter holds a gun in ten-year-old hands she's grown tired of protecting her mother from this man He barters quick and clever for his multitude of sins Mother's eyes shut in death daughter pulls trigger to her own chin
Version 2
10 Reviews
10 Comments
I am the wind rocking the treetops whistling through the branches. I am the lingering fog hugging the lake. I am a cold fresh-water spring, a spillway flowing on slippery rock. I am the chiming: I am the ringing of the brass bell in a steeple. I am the muffled echo calling as it spreads the mountain's valley. I am the rustling of Autumn leaves, colors under shuffled feet. I am thunder that fractures acoustics when even the cricket's song is unheard. I am the untestimonial free-fall of W...
Version 1
9 Reviews
22 Comments
I think of my mother and time stands still I look in the mirror--still thinking of my mother My reflection...ugh...grays are sticking out again "Unruly damn things" I say loudly to the mirror I think of my mom in the hospital bed the gray hair just peaking out at her roots I take out the Clairol and study the mirror As hair-time travels, I think of my mother youthful...how time stands still for her some people will do anything to stay young.
Version 1
7 Reviews
15 Comments
She wishes she did not stumble losing again and recovering some the truth of pain discovered while waiting out the traditions too washed and unexplained A woman fearless in action and fault so he burns their children's shoes & clothes and steals her grandma's Bible Everyday reveals new reasons he will never let them leave. To speak her mind to anyone now would just be talking... worn old, but still living inside. For her children- a mother remembers... for them she does not mi...
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It completes a thought. I don't know if it's true, probably your opinion- but that's fine.
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