Walking through the woods may have been a way of life for some. I booked a safari to drive through the forest in a jeep, with a professional driver. I’m expected to believe what they tell me about the animals, my own research notwithstanding. Then the unexpected happens. A tiger is sitting on the bonnet … Continue reading Conversation
The king of the jungle is called so, because other animals fear his power to harm. I wonder if democracy is just a garb for imposed assumptions. They manipulate you into believing that a powerful ruler protects you against harm. The harm done to your independence is not mentioned. We pay to be controlled. it's … Continue reading Representatives
The voice at the other end is sharp, and the message in the answering machine ominous. “You are suffering from acute lymphoblastic leukemia. I’ve collected the report.” She calls back. “How much time do I have?” “You need to see the oncologist. He will advise the future path of treatment.” “Do I have enough time … Continue reading Ominous
unspoken wordsfloating in steamon coffee cupstrapped in prisons eager to breakcages in airand fly awaycaptured by keys oblivion-a richer spacewith all that's lostin deep silence thoughts thank the keyson man-made boardsfor shapes givenin expression Image credit: Okalinichenko https://reinventionsreena.wordpress.com/2022/04/07/reenas-xploration-challenge-225/
Eugenia's brilliant response to Reena's Xploration Challenge #225 migration of words strewn beyond aspiration rework in progress https://amanpan.com/2022/04/09/ideas-ebb-and-flow/
Moon Message…
By VJ Knutson
Here on the threshold of change,
anxiety and despair howling,
shadows of uncertainty lengthen
beneath the fullness of the moon.
She is no guide, this orb-faced
deity, whose countenance
fails to reveal a directive –
and yet, at some intrinsic level
I feel that we are aligned;
know that her pull is primal,
her presence a reminder
that life is cyclical, and
just as the emotional waters
rise, so too will they ease,
and her voiceless essence
calls me to still the madness
close my eyes to fear’s distortion
and attune to an inner calm,
to trust the light within, and
surrender to the unknowable.
(Moon Message first appeared here April, 2018. This is an edited version. Image my own.)
The Typewriter …. by Sadje
PROMPT #225
Image Credit: Okalinichenko
What does this image inspire in you? Let it all flow out. Create order in what appears to be disorder.
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The old typewriter sat forlorn in the attic, neglected. Mom wanted to throw it or give it away because, let’s be practical here, she said, who uses a typewriter anymore? But dad was adamant that it should not be touched. This was an ongoing battle among them. Having heard my dad’s defense of this machine so many times, my curiosity was piqued. I decided to check it out.
Though it was old, the typewriter still gleamed in the dull light from the attic window. I touched the keys and they moved smoothly, without any issues that most old machines have. On a whim, I inserted a page in it and typed a few words. To my amazement, the typewriter came to life, it’s…
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I am Me ….. by Michelle Navajas
I Am Me
i take kindness on a different level
believing even when the worst is up
against my face.
i have faith in all that is good even when confronted by the bad and by the worst
around me.
i prefer order over chaos as it is what drives me sane the most.
i don’t like confrontations as it definetely will lead to nothing but agonizing shade throwing and blame shaming.
i love to make people happy by means of giving even when they seemed to be disturbingly arrogant and unforgiving.
i stay away from non sense arguments
and discussions because it’s even
pointless to begin with.
it’s not an issue if you don’t like me as i don’t expect to be loved by everyone else it doesn’t bother me at all.
you can hate me you can curse, and i remain true to myself.
but if you don’t…
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I woke up with a thoughtit intends to hijack my dayI looked at my goal-sheet thenI know I should not let it win it intends to hijack my dayit throws me at tangents, like a trollI know I should not let it wina growing orange ball enlightens me it throws me at tangents, like a … Continue reading Mornings – an awakening
Typing, Writing and Ravenclaw ….. by Diana Coombes
An old fashioned typewriter, and I remember learning to type on something very similar. It was a heavy, made out of metal, and I used to carry it up a flight of steep wooden stairs. I was fourteen, and my parents thought it would be a good idea to learn to type.
I fell down those stairs when I was the same age. I’m not sure how I fell, just that two weeks later, I couldn’t get up off the sofa. My back had seized, and I couldn’t even stand up straight. I chipped one of my bones in my spine. It is okay now, but if I am coming down with a cold, my back will ache.
Being able to type fifty words per minute is handy as a writer. I can produce pages of writing (first draft always rubbish though) and I can write a whole chapter in…
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