She Told Me the Earth Loves Us
© by Anne Haven McDonnell
She said it softly, without a need
for conviction or romance.
After everything? I asked, ashamed.
That’s
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Womanhood © by Catherine Anderson
Womanhood
© by Catherine Anderson She slides over
the hot upholstery
of her mother’s car,
this schoolgirl of fifteen
who loves humming & swaying
with the radio.
Her entry
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© by Catherine Anderson She slides over
the hot upholstery
of her mother’s car,
this schoolgirl of fifteen
who loves humming & swaying
with the radio.
Her entry
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A Son’s Ransom (Recitation)
A Son’s Ransom
by MWctn
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by MWctn
I might bargain all
the moments of my life,
but none of yours are given.
There is no ransom
I could pay to have
the moments of my life,
but none of yours are given.
There is no ransom
I could pay to have
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Excerpt from “The Dead” by James Joyce
Excerpt from The Dead
by James Joyce (The well-known final paragraph begins at the 10:46 mark of the recording.)
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by James Joyce (The well-known final paragraph begins at the 10:46 mark of the recording.)
Recordings List
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I Was Not A Soldier (Recitation)
I Was Not A Soldier
by MWctn I was not a soldier
but for the wailing truth,
that touched the frail fingers
of my late-born grasp
of bitter fruit
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by MWctn I was not a soldier
but for the wailing truth,
that touched the frail fingers
of my late-born grasp
of bitter fruit
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Sirmiq The Little Penguin (Recitation)
Sirmiq the Little Penguin
by MWctn Dedicated to Jacob Thompson and his family. Far, far to the south, in snowy, icy country, where even the wind is frozen, in
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by MWctn Dedicated to Jacob Thompson and his family. Far, far to the south, in snowy, icy country, where even the wind is frozen, in
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A Son’s Ransom
I might bargain all
the moments of my life,
but none of yours are given.
There is no ransom
I could pay to have
your seconds gone, enlivened.
If the
the moments of my life,
but none of yours are given.
There is no ransom
I could pay to have
your seconds gone, enlivened.
If the
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I Was Not A Soldier
Written in honor of the fallen upon the fields of foreign soil; as a tribute to the poets of World War I, whose elegiac, somber, transcendent words beg us to
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Analena
Analena
by Fiona Picard
Copyright © 2016 by Fiona Picard
(This is the start of a magical realist novel
written for National Novel Writing Month, November, 2016.) Libros + Jirafas
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by Fiona Picard
Copyright © 2016 by Fiona Picard
(This is the start of a magical realist novel
written for National Novel Writing Month, November, 2016.) Libros + Jirafas
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Youtwo
Youtwo are sobusy.
I feel the brightdawn
of a newsomething
only youboth bring.
Gehry’s Luma is lunatic,
but your construction is sane.
The bricks and mortar
of bigtrips and biggerlove.
I feel the brightdawn
of a newsomething
only youboth bring.
Gehry’s Luma is lunatic,
but your construction is sane.
The bricks and mortar
of bigtrips and biggerlove.
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