Another crash-test dummy would have made the team, waxing and waning through last week’s boyfriend tryouts and first chair band challenges, but what’s a girl to do when all of her secrets have been published on snapchat, which is almost as good as the bathroom doors of the old and crumbling use-ta-be’s?
Author’s Note:Regardless of politics, of leadership, of perceptions at home or abroad, this poet will not bloody the face of this, or any nation, on this blog. I am deeply saddened by what I read that serves to divide. I choose honor; I can only give that example to the rising generations. I choose to rise above. Oh, and the Knockout Rose is my personal favorite 🙂
For Frank J. Tassone’s Haikai Challenge #21 “Rose”
raising the fists of his angry politik his angry hands that Christmas Day in one instant a swirling murmuration of unsaid I’m sorrys in clusters of silent sevens entered the windows, the doors, funnelled about the room orphaning her for once and for all.
Yes, I’ve been absent from Jilly’s for a few weeks and I want to express my appreciation to all who have been in touch. January turned out to be a month of bugs – both viruses and editing bugs struck. I took some time off to drink lots of hot tea and really dig into some writing and editing projects that have been calling my name. It has been a very fruitful time.
I would like to mention two things:
Firstly, the February Edition of Casting Bricks did not happen during the course of my off time. I may make some changes to our collaborative poetry challenge, so if you have any suggestions, please let me know!
I mentioned above that I have spent some time in the editing process recently. Fervency was poem that went through a good deal of editing, with the help of a couple of good friends in the WP community. It is a pleasure to work with fellow poets in the writing process. Thank you!
Lines on Ale is, by some, attributed to Edgar Allan Poe, but disclaimed by the Poe Society of Baltimore as apocryphal. The story behind this bit of verse is as shady as a raven. Whether or not the man himself penned these lines, I wrote this silly bit of response poetry about a week ago, but must beg apologies of Charley at Life in Portofino for the resemblance to his recent post for this same challenge at dVerse. The wives must have their due.