By Tanzelle Oberholster
No piece of writing is worthy of destruction – yes, it may be cringe worthy, but half-formed ideas hide between the bad grammar and spelling mistakes. These precious little insights will be nourished when the water of the muses flow. Crumbs of inspiration quickly transform into beautifully composed pieces. Never throw away any article of writing you felt compelled to manifest. Place the offensive piece of ink on paper in a dark drawer if you must. Let it grow there, like a fungus. Soon there will come a time when these little writer’s blights will provide the antidote to writer’s block.
By Tremaine L. Loadholt
he came home to an
his condo, a quiet, chaotic hole
that gripped him tightly.
the memories of Claudia
pained him throughout each day.
he could see her swollen eyes,
clogged with tears, then
her mouth drawing in from pain.
the chemo had dulled her
insides—crushed her soul.
her voice, now an echoing
everywhere he went.
By Russell J. Armstrong
Dr. Warner misjudged destiny’s resourcefulness. Badly. In a market where the lab once stood, police shackled and dragged him from the gathering crowd. He couldn’t place the Asian dialect over blood pounding his eardrum.
“Slavery? Genocide?” he’d obsessed. “That’s privilege’s ground zero.”
His wife scoffed. “Playing field needs more than leveling to change things, hon.”
So he designed a FastWinder, to rewind through history, and black hole bullets, to blast every European settlement from reality. But West to East, China instead had colonized the America he fast forwarded home to, slaughtering the indigenous population, barring foreigners, and enslaving illegal immigrants.
By Julie Bloss Kelsey
It occurred to me
eventually, we all wake up
outside the Garden of Eden.
So many promises
unfulfilled and broken:
illness and death,
earthquakes and heartaches,
a myriad of misery
accompanies this human form.
It is our daily choice
to rise from the ashes
and accept our truth.
Go forth and be fruitful –
multiply our happiness
as best we can.
Friends are key –
ones you can text
a single swear word
in the dead of night
and your phone pings back
with emojis of love.
It is then we realize:
maybe a tiny piece of Eden
has followed us home.
By J. E. Kennedy
Old Mrs Bergman’s roses were the envy of the village. The bushes bloomed in a congregation of scarlet and coral, sun-flare yellow and delicious tangerine. They spilled over the walls and lit up the pavement with their scattered petals, like delicate wishes skipping along the breeze, destination unknown.
Mrs Bergman plucked and preened, watered and fed. She whispered sweet nothings. She told the roses all that she would have told him if he were here. And they bloomed.
At night she would take the fading telegram from the drawer: Missing in action.
And she waited to meet him again.
By All Natural Spirit
It’s all those little things you know,
that you tend to let fester so,
and now they seem to just grow and grow.
Beware, because you’ll find yourself in a raging fit,
where everything around seems a deep dark pit.
Choose what you let touch your soul,
and soon you’ll see that you’ve a new goal,
this is to accept, move forward
and to let all those little things go.
By Rhodenia B. Cunanan
With lesser strength a “she” was made,
The weaker one how she’s perceived
And yet by her fragility men were raised
Homes were lit, nations were built.
A lesser role to her was given
Yes, inferior to man who’s stronger
And yet in all man’s triumphs and conquests
Woman’s support made him the best.
Though she seems frail and tender
Delicate, fragile and understated
Her strength deep within is present
Man’s all success, sustained by her prowess.
Yes, woman’s role is not lesser
Perseverance is her power
Her heart is strong and can endure
Whatever costs, she’ll stand to bear.