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August 2010 Blog Posts (77)

207

Friday the thirteenth -
Supposed to be unlucky.
No problems here OWW!

Added by Jami Ward on August 13, 2010 at 7:30pm — 2 Comments

Did I tell you I have OCD? :-) This one is a little harder.

The garage band drum pumps out a simplistic beat. The voice has remnants of bands past. What's old is new again. High pitched and freeing it will captivate you.Two tiny figures makes all that rockin' noise? When it's over you will yell for more.

Added by Ericka Gray on August 13, 2010 at 4:28pm — 7 Comments

I like this one. I think I'll do it again.

Smooth sultry words spill from those lips. So tantalizing is the mixture of such melodious sounds coming from an awkward cowboy. Those slim beautiful fingers strum the guitar like it's home. . Sweet sounds of gospel are always close at hand. Daydreams wisp by of ponies and penguins. Makes you wish for one brief moment that you were from Texas.

Added by Ericka Gray on August 13, 2010 at 9:53am — 8 Comments

206

Buttons are magic!
Push the right one and you find
You're in a new world.

Added by Jami Ward on August 12, 2010 at 8:00pm — 2 Comments

Sleep is

Sleep is where the edges of reality bends and blurs.

Added by Ericka Gray on August 12, 2010 at 5:11pm — 1 Comment

Wiffledust Creative Writing Challenge: Here's lookin' at you

He held her hand as hard as he could, knowing that all his strength now was but a feeble echo of what it used to be. He realized that his grip was not to keep himself here but to keep her from going, to make her stay and listen.



"Promise me," he whispered. "Promise me that you won't stop them from taking this shell." He stopped speaking to try to pull enough air into his weakened lungs to finish. "This shell I'm in now," he continued. "Fucked over by that damned disease and then by the… Continue

Added by Jami Ward on August 12, 2010 at 1:00am — 4 Comments

Wiffledust Creative Writing Challenge: Sleep is ...

Sleep is submergence into surcease surrounded by a surfeit of surreal surprises.

Added by Jami Ward on August 11, 2010 at 11:30pm — 2 Comments

6 sentence favorite

Long black hair. Motown, Carole King influence. Peter Paul and Mary had three dogs one night. One sweaty Christmas in the Fifth dimension. God I miss her.

Added by Rick Reiley on August 11, 2010 at 9:42pm — 2 Comments

Concave or Convex - A short story by Kelsey Winterbottom



Concave or Convex…



Continue

Added by Kelsey Winterbottom on August 11, 2010 at 9:00pm — 2 Comments

205

Is your ego bruised?
Or do you just see it now
Through a purple lens?

Added by Jami Ward on August 11, 2010 at 8:00pm — No Comments

6 sentance favorite

The beauty of his voice is that it is not pitch perfect. What clever entertaining ditties he creates. He sings of woman , life, cars, and guitars. He may even throw in a Tiki Bar.You hear his words come out of some of the worlds greats. They wish they had his mad writing skills.

Added by Ericka Gray on August 11, 2010 at 7:38pm — 4 Comments

My Favorite

He is every man's man. A story teller who crys out from the heart. He croons what resides in the hearts of many. Comforting sometimes and sometimes distressing. Wake up, America! Look around and take care of one another.

Added by Suzanne Duncan Lees on August 11, 2010 at 5:30pm — 3 Comments

Guess Who . . .

He sings of the prairie, the south and the past.

Like a stringed instrument, his voice quivers and cries out in pain.…

Continue

Added by Faith Phillips on August 11, 2010 at 5:17pm — 6 Comments

Musician

Could his voice be any raspier as he croons a love song or plumbs the darkest depths of the human heart and mind? What's he doing in there, with those creaks and groans and that moaning soft and low? They say he comes from down 'round San Diego way, leastwise, some here seem to wanna claim him...

Added by Maggie Friend on August 11, 2010 at 3:38pm — 7 Comments

204

If I kept my heart
In a plastic bag for you,
Would it get moldy?

Added by Jami Ward on August 10, 2010 at 10:30pm — No Comments

203

Clouds and elephants
Are alike: huge, gray, slow, loud.
I hope it's raining.

Added by Jami Ward on August 9, 2010 at 11:16pm — 2 Comments

Here's Looking at You, Kid

The heavens had opened, and blankets of rain pounded fiercly upon the pavement. This was retribution for my incessant complaining. It had been a long, hot, dry summer; the kind of summer that robs nature of her color, and mankind of his sense of humor.

I was in a cab on my way to the Sixth Street Diner to meet Tiffany, a sorority sister from long ago. I was never that fond of Tiffany. She, like so many of the 'sisters', lived in a world of perpetual ME-dom, where everything and…

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Added by Diane Brown on August 9, 2010 at 9:12pm — 4 Comments

"Here's Looking at You, Kid!"

The beautiful, liquid-filled eyes stared and stared at Hal. He tried to ignore them.



What else was there to do? Nothing much was happening on the farm that

afternoon, except for the sun starting to throw long shadows across the fields

and toward the stone house where Sally had lived all her life.



Life on the farm was appealing. Hal was a city boy, born and bred, but Sally

was good enough to change his urban…

Continue

Added by Maura C. Ciccarelli on August 9, 2010 at 8:30pm — 1 Comment

here's lookin' at you kid...

When I was 20 or so, a cop rapped on the door of the apartment that I shared with Nancy, a girl that I did not know well. He needed to talk to her. I didn't know where she was and said so. "What is it with you people?" he said. "You people? What exactly does that mean? Who are you to assume anything about me?!" my rebellious mouth retorted. My cat skittered out the door.



A generation has passed. I have… Continue

Added by Maggie Friend on August 9, 2010 at 8:16pm — 1 Comment

Here's lookin' at you, kid....

Passing me on the way to his car, David gave me a smooch on the lips. Lovingly, we called it foreplay. David on his way to his car and off to the work-a-day world. Entering the sterile enviornment of the hospital, I walked the all too familiar halls to my doctor's office. I waited while the technicians did their magic, spinning, cleaning, spinning and cleaning.... The crisp, white paper "robe" was donned and I swung my feet in anticipation of what I hoped would…

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Added by Suzanne Duncan Lees on August 9, 2010 at 7:33pm — 2 Comments

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