Category: Uncategorized

Read Poem: An Old Lady Goes Grocery Shopping, by Joan McNerney

First of all, it is difficult to express
how much I hate this crappy store
plus facing so many sour looks.

Can only purchase a few things
because of all those stairs I must
climb getting to my apartment.

First I walk around in a trance
trying to find my few items.
Next comes the horrible part.

No matter how great my effort, it is
impossible to keep up with cashiers.
They rush us through like cattle.

The conveyor belt is too fast for words.
I just put my groceries out and they
are priced. Next comes my debit card.

Some places also want their special
store card. This is to take advantage
of their measly sales. Thrilling.

Where is my debit card? O there it is,
but it is hard to get the sequence of keys
right. How many people are behind me?

Of course, they would like me to bag
my own stuff. I HAVE NEVER DONE
THAT even in my more youthful days.

Always have to repack everything anyway.
Some items can be left in my car but
most must be lugged up to my kitchen.

Leaving the store with the sinking
sensation of being too slow. Tramping
down to my vehicle with some wobbly cart.

What is this “have a nice day” bull?
Boy, am glad that is over and don’t care
if their cart lands up in Siberia.

Read Poem: Only One for Criticism, by Marc Latham

crit-i-cism
i: 33.3% recurring
central
i two more, either side i
stand beside
another letter
third – i – seventh
like sent-i-nels guarding flanks
right – left
i: only vowel
without i
there would only be
consonants for criticism.

http://www.amazon.com/author/marclatham

Your Work Is Influenced by the Story You Tell Yourself — Discover

“While there are environmental forces—such as leadership and workplace culture—that influence what we believe about ourselves, ultimately we are the stewards of our own stories.” On his personal blog, content strategist Paul Jun muses on the stories we tell ourselves about the work we do.

via Your Work Is Influenced by the Story You Tell Yourself — Discover

Read Poem: CONFIDENCE REMINDER, by Ingrid Gilbert

Allow me to remind you a little something about confidence, now can I:

Confidence starts by action making;
Then evolves in a deep rooted feeling;
And eventually becomes a part of your entire being.

Hence you start taking action,
You witness the confidence slowly but surely fulfilling your entire being,
And then not only will you feel confident, you will be confident.

And through it all, keep reminding yourself that you got this.
You know why?
Cuz you fucking got this!
👊🏾✨

Coach Ingrid
Confidence Queen
Success Coach, Goal Setting Specialist
❣️ Dare to be U, in order to do U
🗣️ #screamyastoyoursuccess

Website:
https://www.instagram.com/p/B5Q_KaVA9DC/?igshid=1phkhsrli5vrq

Read Poem: MY HOUSE SOUNDS LIKE A SHIP, by Ray Blaze

As I lay in bed resting my youth,

I hear the walls crackling around,

Escaped seconds are profound,

Mark Twain saved me a minute;

My rooms falls on the yard,

Nearby the trees bruits growing,

The hard wind beats by milliards,

Mark Twain our houses are alike,

Should a flood descend on land…

I’ve been prepared for … an ocean,

My house shall be my ship!

RAY BLAZE

Read Poem: FLEETING, by David Desmond

“On the Way to Work” Collection

They flitted and flirted,

Here and there,

up in the air.

Lovers they are, friends forever.

He follows her. She just goes where she may

Oh, how fun is this game they play.

Life is! Love is!

How fleeting is the moment.

Daedalus loved his son with the wisdom of keeping from going too high.

Did no one love this lover with the wisdom of keeping from going too low?

Low over the roadway they swoop.

She rises again. He begins to follow.

Against the angled glass he hits.

Is Icarus reborn?

Straight up in the air her lover rises.

And as feathers fall from his wings,

to Earth he descends.

The sweetness of death completes his journey.

I wonder what Daedalus did over his broken son?

When my mother died, my father became a lost puppy dog.

Fifty-three years of marriage supplanted with a new love, fifty-three weeks yet to have passed.

So fleeting is life, the warmth of summer, the love of the beloved.

She perched on a branch and chirped for a moment.

He lay lifeless in the road, what remaining feathers fluttering as other cars pressed onward.

Then she was gone, on her way to discover…

another lover.

9 Tips to Improve Your Writing — A Writer’s Path

by Cátia Isabel Silva Improvement. That’s an amazing word and fundamental for all of us who want to continuously get better at our jobs. As I already said in previous posts, there is plenty of competition in the writing field, so, if you want to write for life, you must be good at […]

via 9 Tips to Improve Your Writing — A Writer’s Path

How Every Writer Has Their Own Method — A Writer’s Path

by Cynthia Hilston How many of you remember the dreaded research papers you had to write in high school? Raise your hand. Better off, don’t raise your hand. That’s too reminiscent of being back in school. But anyway, I’ll tell you this: if I never have to write another research paper in my […]

via How Every Writer Has Their Own Method — A Writer’s Path