Old books gather dust - Write it forward: New chapters, Inked aspirations
for #575prompt
A place to gather words before they get lost.
Old books gather dust - Write it forward: New chapters, Inked aspirations
for #575prompt
Repeat the beat
Kick Drum Bass Drum Snare Drum Crash
Kick Drum Bass Drum Snare Drum Crash
keep it on the beat, then repeat
the audience responds by jumping up
out of their seats, dancing on the souls of their feet
Kick Drum Bass Drum Snare Drum Crash
for #mastoprompt
Watching wind shaking trees to the roots and shuddering
the last vestiges of yesterday's storm into falling,
we're attentive to the lapse in time – the way tomorrow's calling its way
into the sounds of today
for #mastoprompt
Watching wind shaking the trees to the roots and shudders
the last vestiges of yesterday's storm into falling,
we're attentive to the lapse in time – the way tomorrow's calling its way
into the sounds of today
for #mastoprompt
On watching Louis Armstrong: Black and Blues
Such a conflicted icon of another era, the smiling, talented, public persona of a Black jazz revolutionary out of New Orleans in an era of racism
And it was left to Ossie Davis, actor, to share a fragile Satchmo, in silence, a man huddled in shadows with a trumpet cradled in his arms, the pain of a divided nation playing out against shuttered eyes, watered with tears
“and I never laughed at him again,” Davis says.
for #mastoprompt
Lights stringing across hands – fingers finding the heat; feet, stomping out cold
for Algot
What an angelic voice rising up above the loft - a crystal Christmas gift of song; how soft, the sound, as she draws us in; we close our eyes – we take a breath - we find an entry to join on in
for #mastoprompt
We rise up laughing with the light — Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Take my hand as we enter this frame
of a doorway to a new year, already named
but still mysteriously unknown
and if laughter is the medicine to keep us sane
let us remember, together, the place from which we came
is foundation for home
Inspired by The Year by Ella Wheeler Wilcox https://poets.org/poem/year
Prompt via Winter #SolsticePoem Prompts (via Deanna): https://docs.google.com/presentation/d/1ZjzQCxAlSozwsiWI-KBWYmTv6AdFEME4V9AQwrATcnE/present?slide=id.p
Edging ever closer to eve,
filled with wonderings of what
we can accept, with grace,
and what, of us, we might leave
for #mastoprompt
So much of any year is flammable ... — Naomi Shihab Nye
She reminds me that books of matches are things one needs to keep dry,
to tuck them safe inside a pocket within a jacket within a shirt,
It's fire, she's talking about, but me, I'm watching the year passing by -
scraps of days and nights as kindling, a desire to turn black ash into story and maybe, start anew,
it's friction on worn flint - it's me, scratching into the memory of you
Inspired by Burning The Old Year by Naomi Shihab Nye https://poets.org/poem/burning-old-year
Prompt via Winter #SolsticePoem Prompts (via Deanna): https://docs.google.com/presentation/d/1ZjzQCxAlSozwsiWI-KBWYmTv6AdFEME4V9AQwrATcnE/present?slide=id.p