Throwback Thursday #20

Time to share another archived piece for Throwback Thursday! (And yes, I know this is Saturday, but I’m catching up.) I wrote this one just over a year ago for Friday Fictioneers. It was pretty fun to write, and definitely a challenge to keep the word count so minimal! The Source of the Legend Friday…

Throwback Thursday #19

I just now realized that it’s been two months since I posted here. A lot has happened in the intervening time–I have a nice new job, for one thing–but my focus tonight is to get back into blogging. I miss blogging. It’s a good, no, great way for me to write daily and to learn…

Throwback Thursday #18

Here’s a poem I wrote about five years ago. At the time I had an assignment to write for a class, and had absolutely no inspiration. No inspiration for anything I thought was good, anyway. I penned the following poem in the midst of my frustration that night. *** The Page’s Epitaph This paper waits;…

Ars Poetica, by Archibald MacLeish

Photo by Aleksandar Pasaric from Pexels Continuing my new Monday tradition of posting a poem that has influenced my own poetry writing, here is a poem by Archibald MacLeish. I have loved this poem for years and have tried to emulate its style before, but MacLeish writes in a way that I can’t seem to…

Prophecy, by Elinor Wylie

I think I’m going to start a new tradition where I post one of my favorite poems every Monday. To start off, here’s one by Elinor Wylie which has stuck with me ever since I first read it years ago. Prophecy I shall lie hidden in a hut In the middle of an alder wood,…

Throwback Thursday #17

I haven’t done a Throwback Thursday post in a while… Here’s a poem I wrote in the fall of 2013, in the style of Emily Dickinson. *** I much prefer my dish of death Straightforward on the plate— Overt and undisguised, for here No masquerades are played—   I much prefer it clear and cold,…

My Harvest

Written for Word Prompt Wednesday.   I am harvesting the seeds sown as a child From thumbholes in the bare earth, each miniscule body Buried in them, and abandoned.   Not neglected, though. My thoughts coaxed them Leaf-curling and persistent, from crevices Not sealed after all.   But last night—in the turned-away gaze of the…

Quadrille

Written for Quadrille Monday. Violet fire is burning ‘Neath a periwinkle sky The purple planets’ turning Spins my consciousness awry— Every tendon, every figment Flushes mauve—the body burns, Crumbles in the deathly pigment, River-ruined, being spurned, Out of purple heaven hurled In the ashes of the world.   ~H

Mumei #writephoto

Written for Sue Vincent’s #writephoto prompt and Promptober day 15.  362 words Mumei hovered a few inches above the rocky ground, ragged robes just brushing his cast-off skull at his feet. The violet sky glowered overhead with the threat of salty rain. Chaos slithered and ripped at the air, but Mumei took no notice. He…