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 |   A terminal for all blogs coming in or going out. A view into my life. |
Started July 1st 2019 for contests, etc. as other blogs are filling up and have other purposes.  I'm starting a new blog because
I'll be linking to
I've started an appendix (I no longer have one personally) to keep track of my Space Cadet journals for Space Blog. It's a work constantly under construction. Mind the mess.
I needed to start a folder for contests as there are so many deadlines and details to remember.
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For
"Fast Food Heaven"  [E] by Tim Chiu  Mini-review: A totally different approach from a poet who has written many rhymed verses. This one depends on rhythm and is best read at an exhausting pace (like many newbie poets use to their detriment, but not in this case) preferably in two breaths. I do believe it needs a bit of an edit though and maybe a lengthening then shortening of lines mimicking a crescendo and decrescendo. This work obviously depends on the sense of taste woven with 'facts' like calories and obesity and over-the-top words like 'humongous' and 'uproarious'. Normally I prefer spare images but the overwhelming use of adjectives fits the subject matter of fast food and the theme of over-indulgence. I give it a 4.6 as is. Prompt: How do you feel about fast food? The only way to roll when traveling. Although I prefer the street vendor version found in many countries compared to the over-priced, over-sugar-and-salted lazy-American version. Otherwise... nah... I made broccoli-cheese-chicken yesterday and lentil patties today. Better than just eating peanut-butter sandwiches. Much better than a pile of artery-clogging cheeseburgers. For "Blogging Circle of Friends " Day 2971: January 5, 2021 Prompt: Use these words in your blog post: epiphany*, sunshine*, snow*, chocolate*, chicken*, spring*."Silence was everywhere that winter" On the Eve of Epiphany* the taste of chocolate* lingered on Vincent's lips. The sunshine* had faded to dull clouds obscuring the stars. The Moon shone through the gaps. No snow* in the forecast; yet, he wasn't convinced that winter had spared them. Was there enough in the larder to get them though mud season and spring* dearth? Death kept a silent vigil. Vince went out to the hen-house to make sure the ladies were snug on their roosts. He checked that everything was secure. He had nothing against foxes, liked them in fact, but he liked scrambled eggs in the morning and chicken* fricassee for Sunday dinners even more. He stopped to breathe in the cold crisp air and noticed the lack of a breeze, then noticed the silence. Too silent. There should be the crunch of snow under his boots, the shuffle of leaves in the forest. Nothing was moving. The clouds gathered as if to snuff out the moon-shadows. Vince hurried to the house where the lantern was beckoning, where the cackle of the fireplace would soothe his nerves, where he could put on the kettle for tea and grab another candy bar and pretend everything was okay. For "The Writer's Cramp" "Silence was everywhere that winter". Expanded item: "A Kind of Hush [304]" 3536 |
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