What a great story. Back when we all wrote lots of mail, this was a very typical problem. Today, maybe it's even worse? Hitting send for an email or text message could be just as tragic.
Although what his mom did was not exactly legal, since mail is supposed to be opened by the person to whom it addressed, I can see how her reaction would have been endearing.
This popped up when I hit the Rate and Review button. I love the randomness of that!
I happen to love the holidays, eggnog and rituals or traditions, as well as acrostic poetry. I just wish that our winter holidays were not in the winter. I have always hated cold and snow.
This one tugs at my heart strings. My brother was homeless on and off for over 20 years by choice. He was also an alcoholic who pickled his liver and went to the hospital about every 6 or 8 weeks to have the fluid built up in his abdomen drained. One day, he had the fluid drained for the last time. He died sleeping on the sofa of a friend that night.
What I learned from my brother's funeral was that homeless people are some of the best friends anyone can have.
Because of all of that, I am sometimes drawn to stories about the homeless. They are usually misunderstood.
Thanks for sharing. My nephew could have written something like this.
I love this! I had a discussion about this very thing a few days ago. It seems as if people who are definitely dog people are often chosen by God to embrace a very special cat. Or two. And being lovers of animals, our hearts melt for our special kitties as well as our dogs.
You explained well how she seemed to know exactly how to dog her way into your heart.
Thanks for writing about your mother. Ever since my own mom passed away, I have wanted to write a poem about her. But each time that I began, I didn't like how it was progressing. This might just offer the inspiration that I have needed.
I love this line
We'll sing awhile and love each tune
and there forever stay.
Somehow I imagine that there is going to be a huge family choir in Heaven singing around the piano just like we used to during holiday celebrations.
It hurts when politicians tell you that you are not good enough, doesn't it? I've been criticized by Obama for being a Bible thumper and by Hillary for being deplorable. And it only got worse from there.
Today, I remind people that under President Trump we had lower taxes, lower food prices, lower gas prices, lower utility costs, energy independence, a more secure border and no new wars.
It's pretty obvious that you were hurting when you wrote this. Hopefully, life has improved since then.
A few suggestions:
Your not better than me for sure I just wear all my pain on my sleeve for all to see
You just hide yours a little better than me but your no different than me
Should be "you're not better than me."
Please sit me free from me first than everyone else I plead
Sharing your chronic illness via poetry is interesting. You're right that high blood pressure is something about which everyone should be aware.
Reading this made me realize that I have never attempted to write a poem about fibromyalgia or the dozens of conditions that accompany it. Nor have I ever written anything about my massive heart attack. I wonder if I should.
That's an interesting form of poetry. Just as interesting are your words about building a wall. It sounds as if you are building both a physical one and as a mental separation from everyone and everything else.
That begs the question, is this a reality or just a poem?
I think that your attempt was very good. You were a touch cryptic about what happened to you back then, but did mention almost dying and trying to heal. I hope by now that has happened for you.
You mentioned trying to remember the things for which you should be grateful. That is always important.
Your description says that you are describing someone's loneliness. (You spelled it wrong.) But I'm not totally convinced that is true. This person describes being alone, but the way that you have worded it, it makes being alone seem like a favorable condition.
Other than that little misspelling, I wouldn't necessarily change anything. But then again, I might change the description to asking the question, "Are people who are alone always lonely?"
This is fantastic! These are just the kinds of thoughts we all have when we try something scary and new. The affirmations are exactly what we need, whether they come from others or the voice in our heads.
And, as you pointed out at the end, this scenario could be about anything. My mind went to the first time that I sang a solo and the first time that I had to speak in front of 300 people.
My only suggestion is about what you said at the end.
I am certain that many of us would use this casual way of speaking and would say, "All you gotta do..." But when everything else is more formal, it is a bit jarring. I might consider writing "All you have to do..." But that's me. Feel free to ignore my suggestion.
Stories about birds and animals are always fun, especially if the birds or animals are behaving differently than what we humans consider normal. Such is the case in this story. Something is amiss with the crow.
I have to admit that I was confused about two words that you used: basted and fluey.
I love reading poetry that not only shows the poet's word crafting abilities but also demonstrates a different form of poetry. I have only seen poets explain their poetry form at WDC. Often, people at other writing sites expected people to know what form they were using. Of course, a bunch of those sites don't exist any more, so there is that.
Thanks for sharing your experience with Covid. The only person I know who had it was my son's dad, my ex husband. He was 23 years older than me, so he survived both career and covid in his 90s. For him, the experience was really mild. In fact, they weren't even sure that he had it until he was tested. We attributed his success at surviving them both in a year to his having boosted his immune system so well over the 40+ years prior.
I think that you were right to decide not to edit this as it was written as you experienced it.
In so few lines and words, you have described quite well that treasure chest at the bottom of the sea. I love, love, love your word crafting. I can see the fish doing their ballet dance.
This was the first thing that I read today, and I am glad that it was. Discovering someone who can write like this is exciting.
I loved your description of what a dad is or should be. I tend to agree with your views, including needing two parents.
My dad was a sheet metal mechanic. He was so surprised when I asked him to help me with algebra and geometry. He thought that since he dropped out of high school to join the navy, he couldn't possibly be any help. I explained to him that he used advanced math every day in his job. In the end, he would check my answers. He didn't know how to reach them like I did, but he did solve the problems. I miss having him around.
I get it. I have something called "Why write? Why breathe?"
Plus, I have a quote:
Kenzie says: "If you dream of being a writer, you already are one! The words are merely being held prisoner in your mind. Release them!"
I used to write so many letters to the editor and guest colums for our local newspaper in TX that they finally hired me. First I was the editor's assistant, then I was promoted to Community News Editor.
You write well. Don't give up.
Blessings,
Kenzie
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