If you haven’t watched / listened to Sarah Kay’s Spoken word poem, A Love Letter from a ToothBrush to a Bicycle Tire, you should:
Last night I had a horrid dream. Bone shaking me to my core, I have never had such a sweaty nightmare ever before. I dream very less (if I do, I don’t remember most of them). Last night’s -mare ingrained in my memory very starkly. Details need too much background information about my family members. […]
A week ago, I wrote When Family Becomes A Distant Memory. Khawaja Musadiq, a wonderful wonderful poet turned it into a poem, thousand times more beautiful. Although he doesn’t know the context and details I wrote the blog post in, nonetheless he wrote so beautifully. surviving on a bleak glimmer of h o p e , […]
For Simran Narwani I was looking for a friend, when you tapped my shoulder from the back and I was confused how to respond back to a recognition from a person that was not mutual. Last time this happened I was in a hall trying to remember something about microprocessors so that I could at […]
Interminable sticky hug to a sheet or pillow morning summer dreams, pseudo waking up, Hammer of the sun, hitting the anvil, a hard calloused hand trying to fight the restlessness the heat irritates its cancer with.
THE REAL IRON MAN He has an iron hand, full of wait of coal burnt almost like a cave man lifting the weight of a person’s dirt and pressing it over to its core so the next time an ironed shirt is worn, it smells of sun charged like solar flares, flat creases transfigured into […]
A poet’s letters to his muse found 99 years after his death She, the stories behind the scenes that he covered up in the lifelong attempt, to give into writing. I know he didn’t have an option. I just wish the unaddressed letters that I write and have written to people reach them before any […]
How roses stink to high heaven
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Natalie. Writer. Photographer. Etc.
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Threw a loose net over a sea of words, caught a few fresh flippery tales. Some slipped off my memory, a colourful few stayed.
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Arpita Pramanick ~ Author & Blogger
Art in the Everyday | Poetry | Writing
~The Modern Musings of LaRonda Moore~
"Of this I am certain: The moment you said, "You are..." I no longer recognized myself. I am more than the woman you see. "
Software and other dark arts, by Nolan Lawson
Warning: coarse language, moral turpitude, and lewd depictions of sex (surprised?)
Let her mind wander. . .
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