Explosion

by
Jim Bronyaur

What's left -

the world behind

Signalling seasons

a broken traffic light

Sending souls crashing

at intersections hung

between now and death.

The faded treeline shades

to brown

The high mountains sink -

just a little.

Popping glass dances around

titled signs point all ways

all ways to the heart

always to the heart

an explosion

feel.

Descend

by
Laura Mercurio Ebohon

Inclinations




curved words



falling down



on this white desert



like little drops of hope



taking shape in clouds of smoke







Slides



bending acts



extending downwards



laying on this black valley



landslides of events



sweeping life away







Avalanches



heart tremors



sliding down



the mountainside of our soul



precipitation of feelings



descending impacts

Meet Laura Mercurio Ebohon!

“Writing (therapeutical ladder to the sky), reading, traveling, exploring, captivating images, observing the mysteries-miracles of life, attempting verses…”




My first poetry book: Italian – English poetry “Se guardo dentro – If I look inside” is out now



I feel the essence of my writing could be described as: ”sliding” into myself trying to find the “real me” keeping at the same time my eyes wide open on the world and its wonders.



I think this life is a passage through stormy and sunny places leading us to the light I have been searching since I was a little girl. I would like to learn more and share more through my verses.



I cannot really tell you the what or the how but I am sure that you will see in some of my verses the intricate maze of my journey and you will recognize the when and the why I felt my inner spiritual journey had to be explored even more to finally find the communion between mind, body and soul… Always looking for peace.



Find out more about Laura and her book of poetry here: http://iamlauramercurio.com/2010/06/03/se-guardo-dentro-if-i-look-inside/

Descend

by
Jim Bronyaur

Watching as the falling
the calling

they come.

Bringing they spread

they become

all okay.

Secrets the world can't know

can't believe

it's real.

The sorry and the sorrow

the sadness

the sound.

Creaking to the wet

the dark

one last kiss.

I've Never Loved

by
BD Hudison

I've never loved
  (like I've loved)
I've never taken
  (like I've taken)
Waiting on a cracked corner to travel -
far away the cries of freedom slowly burn and die.
They leave me - always leaving - always just packing up and moving on.
But here I stand - I stay - like a block of cement.  I'm attached to this ground - to this place - to everything around me that seems like it won't be here tommorow.
I've never loved... a place... as much as I do this.

Rested

by
Michelle Dennis Evans

Ready to go




No weary no lack



Energy to burn



Exhilarating adventure



Willing to launch



Focus renewed



Freedom found



Soul



Mind



Body



Filled and refuelled



Ready to run



Rested in Him



Rested and ready

Destiny

by
Jim Bronyaur

 For I am the creator of destiny


My weathered hands tear apart on cracked grounds

they tear apart on beat up hearts

(why is fate such a cruel beast?)

The crossroads you face

The time you spend looking and waiting for

(the sign)

Why, my dearest life,

that time is wasted

the sign is held deep within.

deep within a place of existent

(that is often left behind)

The place (you may ask) is not one of fortune.

not one of greed.

not one of lust.

not even on of hope.

But of life.

But of yourself.

But of your heart.

All within your destiny…

The destiny I create

And hand to you with the care

while my scars bleed to show that time is real.

the crow and the line... (THE PAGES)

by
Jack Roth

“A crow perched

so nice

on an electrical line.

Mouth open.

It’s calling.

It’s calling.

It’s…”

___

Calling.

___

“Did she fuck him?”

“When can we meet?”

“Why’s she invited? I’ll just have to be nice.”

“No, I’m not mad…”

“I’m sorry, but it doesn’t…”

“She can’t…”

“…if he tries harder…”

“Why the fuck…”

“…couldn’t even eat today…”

___

Passing through

with a heavy coat of conversation

My hands still stained from the

last request.

Days rested in sorrow are a

playground

and

war zone.

The spill becomes so much

my head hurts…

My dark friend eyes me and smiles

I could reach up and snap –

(that fucking neck)

I could breathe once –

(and the world would be a waste pile)

___

“…acts like a jerk in front…”

“I told you that…”

“…lost the fucking ball…”

“Well, they just need better…”

___

Voices of calamity –

they will be the ones that pull

(the fucking trigger)

I just guide.

(in the darkness with light…

…in the shadows that never cast…

…you can only see what I show…

…and feel what I touch…)

The edge of town comes…

I must keep moving.

The darkness of the forest

gives warmth as

I know it’ll be great.

Until the return.

___

“Look at him screaming.”

(It’s calling out.”)

“What for?”

(“Crows mean death.”)

“Not if that line gives it a zap.”

(Crows always mean death.”)


Read the entire THE PAGES series (hosted by The Penny Dreadful) at Read THE PAGES!

ONCE and FOREVER

by Cynthia Schuerr

I loved you in the long ago,


My heart was yours forever.


We shared life as sated as we might,


Tho, it really did not matter.


For, it ran away with the wind


Leaving my heart soaring.


The freedom of my soul,


Spun like a disc, out of control.


When will we intertwine?


Will we share this space again?


Will it happen?


Am I dreaming?


Can I just pretend?

A Line at a Time #22

It's simple: Look at the picture below and send me the first line that comes to your mind (softwhisperssubmissions@gmail.com). ALL lines will be published on the site and in our monthly issue! (Be sure to include your name and link to Twitter, site, etc.)

Everything I thought I knew has now left me

A Line at a Time 21 - THE RESULTS!

Where did you go?

We never figured, "I'll just leave my jacket out here, so it won't get crud on it," would be Andy's last words

While we sang by the fence in the snow

I waited in the wind for you, but you never came

When I turned my head

You left your soul....I feel it, your heart.....come heal it

They say he didn't have a chance because the weather turned

THE CONTRIBUTORS:


We did you go? (Jim Bronyaur, www.twitter.com/jimbronyaur)


We never figured, "I'll just leave my jacket out here, so it won't get crud on it," would be Andy's last words (Monica Marier, http://twitter.com/lil_monmon)






While we sang by the fence in the snow (Michelle Dennis Evans, http://michelledevans.blogspot.com)






I waited in the wind for you, but you never came (Katrina DeLallo, http://twitter.com/CrafterCat)






When I turned my head (Rebecca Besser, www.rebeccabesser.com)






You left your soul....I feel it, your heart.....come heal it (Cynthia Schuerr, http://www.theheartofwriting.blogspot.com)






They say he didn't have a chance because the weather turned (Claudette J. Young, http://claudsy.wordpress.com)

Dragon Dawn

by
Katrina DeLallo

The Dragon flings his flame across the sky,

And claws his golden way above the trees;

The clouds blush scarlet as he passes by

And carry his reflection on the breeze.


Aflame within the graying cast of night,

Reluctant darkness flees before his gaze.

His tongue laps up the moon and cold starlight,

Replacing silver beams with amber rays.


The golden Dragon sets the sky on fire,

Blue silk bedecked with burnished, burning gold.

From the East he kindles, shining higher,

Illuminating valley, hill, and wold.


The Dragon flames, in amber-gold array,

The Rising Sun, the Dawn, Enkindled Day.

Steel

by
Laura Ebohon
I am steel
metallic matrix
strong alloy
solid solution
stainless. Water flows over
no sign left
only small drops
of fresh nothing
As I am made of steel
Flames can't burn me
I'm stainless cold
corrosion-resistant
rust will not consume
my protected veins of light
reflected on the shining surface
as I am steel
and so is my heart...
heavy solid barrier of chromium
Rust-proof
Pain-proof
Unassailable
But... a unique melting point...
Sensational status
Irreversible
Inevitable...
The elasticity of my bouncing soul...

Plain

by
Michelle Dennis Evans

Simple


Soft

Supple

Belittled

Unknown

Lacking lustre

Lack of beauty

Lack of charisma

Lacking in love

Neat but dull

Empty and closed

No sparkle

No smile

No shine

Plain

Sky Clouds

by

Cynthia Schuerr

For Vernon

by
Jeanne Baldwin

I stand afar and see a charm of red and green




A charm of a barn in a calming scene …



Then I wander around Red Robin Hood’s barn.





But you are not here wherever I look,



Not in the stalls, not down by the brook.



You’re not here, not writing your book.



I stand at the red barn which sits on the green



Calling to you … please come to me.





But you are not here and how could you be?



You’re nowhere else in Eternity,



Only in my memory…



Unless you are now the Charm of the Barn



The Charm of the Red Barn which sits on the Green.

Labyrinth

by
Jim Wisneski

I sit more lonely
then the tomb of the unknown soldier,
reflecting on my life.
I close my eyes to hide from the world,
and I get lost,
in my minds cryptic labyrinth.

The intense atmosphere
wraps its somber arms around me.
It’s filled with creatures,
living in unison.
I’m confused,
like a child lost in a murky forest,
with the sullen trees glooming down.

I soon find a bright spotted a flower,
and I thirst its sweet nectar.
I drink as if it were my last drink,
my last peril into the illusion of life,
as to never wake again.

I then sit on an old,
rotted, brown tree stump,
and I absorb the cool, crisp air.
I discuss with nature, life,
but she quietly smiles,
and drifts away.

Then I am greeted by a foreign lizard woman,
with gold eyes,
and skin of a lime.
I begin to trouble the young luscious creature,
with many questions,
my life.
And I soon begin to realize that only I,
a pawn of life,
could answer these questions.
She finally speaks,
and guides me back home,
to reality.
I hate to leave,
as much as a child hates to leave
their playground at dusk.

I open my weary eyes,
still lonely,
and I smile. . .
for I am the victor,
of the labyrinth of life.

Flames

by

Rebecca Besser

Golden Warm

by
Maria Kelly

Lying back on summer-green grass,




gazing up at Heaven.



Stars are brighter than ever,



Night is blacker than velvet.



Heat lightning flashes in a distance far,



far away for now, no threat now, no harm.



For now I am warm--golden warm.



Warmed by love and wine



and the thought of you--asleep at my side,



though sharp is the wind;



it howls and keens!



Come storm and do your worse!



I am golden.



I am warm.

Meet Mikki Sadil!

I am Mikki Sadil, a wife, mother and grandmother. I live on the Central Coast of California with my husband, Welsh Corgi puppy, Siamese/Himalayan cat, an African Grey parrot and a Blue and Gold Macaw. I have been writing all my life, but only started publishing in the last couple of years. I write for Middle Grade and Young Adults, mostly contemporary fiction along with a bit of fantasy and my newest novel, which is historical fiction. I don’t write much poetry, but when I do, it is usually very personal, and because of that, I’ve never been willing to try to publish it until now.

The Brass Balloon

by
Mikki Sadil

In the golden eye of yesterday


We did what all lovers do…

held each other too tight to breathe

And drowned in each other’s kisses.

And when we could talk again

we planned our lives

for fifty years and more.



But gold has a way of tarnishing

And yesterday has lost its beginning

and now our kisses are as cool and distant

as the February fog across the hill..

and when was the last time you held me

too tight to breathe?



Listen…I still love you…in a part of me

that always will…but I can’t go back to yesterday

any more, because, you see…

now there is tomorrow.

My tomorrow.



And yet, I cry. For you. For me. For us.

For all our yesterdays that somehow never

gave birth to tomorrow.

Listen…I had a thirst you didn’t want to share,

A self you didn’t want to know

and so, that golden moment of love

became a brass balloon

and drifted away.

1st Place Pic 1 k winner is... Kelly Stapleton

, pi

This is the first time I've read her work... and wow, what a great story!  Here is the interview with Kelly:

Besides the picture, what was the inspiration for the story?
Every silly boy I tried to impress when I was young and stupid.

How long did it take you to write?
The first draft took a couple of hours. I did revisions on and off for two weeks. I'm a compulsive story tweaker -- I never think the story is good enough, and I only stop revising when I get sick of looking at it.

Where else have you been published?
Tattoo Highway, Fiction at Work, Colored Chalk, and Tomlit Quarterly.

Where can Soft Whispers readers find you on the internet? (site, Twitter, etc.)
I'm on Twitter @kelly_stapleton. I blog at http://www.kellystapleton.blogspot.com/ and I promise to start updating it more often!

What's your favorite kind of ice cream?
Chocolate chip cookie dough.

What's your favorite pizza topping?
Tomatoes and spinach.

What are you plans for 2010?
I plan to work on more flash fiction and finish the novel I started during NaNoWriMo 2009.

What was your first story you ever wrote?
It was called Pillows, but my creative writing teacher made me change the title because she thought the word pillows gave the ending away. It was about a girl whose mother puts a hit out on her. Worst story ever. I live in fear of someone resurrecting it just to embarrass me if I ever become famous.

When?

My senior year of high school.

To read Kelly's winning story, THE BARN DOOR, click to read Issue Five of Soft Whispers!

2nd Place Pic 1 k winner is... REBECCA BESSER!

And as promised, here is the interview with the lovely Rebecca Besser:

What was the inspiration for your story? And don't say the picture! Besides that...

I wanted to do something different. We've all heard love stories that involve young women falling in love with stable hands, etc. So, I knew I wanted something dark and unexpected. This story just kinda came out when I started writing.

Since I'm in the antho, I'm going to mention it... tell us about Living Dead Press and the anthology you're editing...

Yeah, I have to mention it because it involves me too! I was in Night of the Wolf: A Werewolf anthology, and End of Days 3: An Apocalyptic Anthology, and kind fell into doing some editing for them. They were impressed with how well my submissions were edited. It really does pay to make your writing the best you can BEFORE you send it out.

Right now I'm editing End of Day 4: An Apocalytic Anthology, and another one (it's a secret, you'll see when it comes out). Watch the Living Dead Press' site on the Children's page in the next month, hint, hint.

I'll be editing another antho when I get EoD4 done. So, if you are interesting in writing some dark adventures, especially about zombies, keep your eyes on Living Dead Press.

Where else have you been published?

I've been published in the Coshocton Tribune (local newspaper), Irish Story Playhouse, Spaceports & Spidersilk, joyful!, Illuminata, Living Dead Press, and Common Threads (The Ohio Poetry Associations Literary Journal!).

I've also had the story that was in the Illuminata e-zine accepted as a reprint for Golden Visions Magazine's online July issue. They're also considering a couple more of my stories.

It's 11pm on a Saturday night, where are you?

Hmmm, probably sleeping. Unless we have a movie to watch that we consider too grown up (you know, swearing, violence, etc. We love action movies!) for our 5 year old. Then I would be sitting in front of the TV having a mini-date with the hubby.

But, if it's a REAL date night (Yes, we still have those). I might not even be home. Especially during the summer. Us country folk tend to find friends and stand around outside talking until the early morning hours.

What are your favorite things to watch on TV?

We love to watch Bones, NCIS, and Warehouse 13 (new season starts June 6 on SyFy, I'm soooooo excited!).

I also watch a good bit of the History and Discovery Channel.

Where else can readers find you besides Soft Whispers? (site, Twitter, etc.)

Facebook and I have my own domain: www.rebeccabesser.com

On my site I have a funny story posted, with a wav of me reading the end of it. I also have links to where my writing has appeared, and I keep my submissions count and upcoming appearances in publications as updated as possible.

I have a blog too: blog.rebeccabesser.com

There isn't much there at the moment, as I'm not much of a blogger. I might be holding some contests on my blog in a month or so. I plan to give away a couple of the anthos I've edited. I'll be sure to let you know when that is going on, so you can post something. Wouldn't want anyone to miss out on a free book, now would we? Who knows, maybe I'll spot one to you to give out as a prize for something on Soft Whispers. That would be really cool!

What was the last book you read?

Last book I read was Rise of the Dead by Anthony Giangregorio.

My fav authors are Jean M. Auel and Linda Rios Brook.

What are your plans for 2010?

Plans. . . that could be anything. Writing goals. . . I wanted to do 150 submissions this year. I'm up to 96. I've also been dreaming of being in an anthology, and now I'm in multiple anthos!

I have a couple book projects brewing. Hoping to get something done before the end of the year, which is HIGHLY doable! Should be able to do quite a bit with half the year still to come!

Life plans. Spending time with my fam, fishing, enjoying other summer things, etc. Should be fun.

To read Becca's winning story, FATHER'S REVENGE, click here to read Issue Five of Soft Whispers!

A Line at a Time #21

It's simple: Look at the picture below and send me the first line that comes to your mind (softwhisperssubmissions@gmail.com). ALL lines will be published on the site and in our monthly issue! (Be sure to include your name and link to Twitter, site, etc.)

Where did you go?

A Line at a Time (alaat) #20 - THE RESULTS!

The lost are lost... the broken are broken... all may be gone

But look in the cracks, look through the slats

The passing of time cracks and erodes

The ghosts are still here, and they have long memories

Peel back the layers, open the shutters that hold the pain

(Wendy blinked back tears as she gazed at the crumbling hacienda; she was going to fucking KILL her realtor)

Once this was my home - it holds my memories still

As the door glides wide....my heart will smile....at the beauty within

The dead-orange paint pulled back like bedsheets in my hands

Yes imprints of our passing flow as breezes across time

But memories are forever held - inside our walls

 

 

The contributors:

 

The lost are lost... the broken are broken... all may be gone (Jim Bronyaur, www.twitter.com/jimbronyaur)

But look in the cracks, look through the slats (Jeanne Baldwin)

The passing of time cracks and erodes (Rebecca Besser, www.rebeccabesser.com)

The ghosts are still here, and they have long memories (Maria Kelly, www.twitter.com/mkelly317)

Peel back the layers, open the shutters that hold the pain (Michelle Dennis Evans, http://michelledevans.blogspot.com  )

Wendy blinked back tears as she gazed at the crumbling hacienda; she was going to fucking KILL her realtor (Monica Marier. http://monicamarier.blogspot.com/)

Once this was my home - it holds my memories still (Tessa Conte, http://www.tessasblurb.blogspot.com)

As the door glides wide....my heart will smile....at the beauty within (Cynthia Schuerr, http://www.theheartofwriting.blogspot.com)

The dead-orange paint pulled back like bedsheets in my hands (Kaston Griffin, www.akashio.wordpress.com)

Yes imprints of our passing flow as breezes across time (Claudette J. Young, http://www.claudsy.wordpress.com)

But memories are forever held - inside our walls (Cari Main)

The Remembering

by
BD Hudison

You may be.  Gone right now.  But I can feel.  Your soft skin.  Empty kiss.  My heart follows.  The rhythm of the thunder as broken.  Eyes.  Look down upon me.  You.  Not us.  You've already left.  And I'm left.  With.  The remembering.

Only Silence Remains

by Maria Kelly I am here...right here... just a step or two away from you...here- with only the distance of the aisle to separate us. You are looking at cans of tuna fish, I am contemplating vegetable soup. You turn and look in my direction and I smile but your eyes are blank and unfocused; seeing right through me, not seeing me at all, as if I have become Invisible. Again and again I observe this tragic ritual in American marketplaces and city streets, where a smile and a “Hello” are rare commodities and sometimes more precious than gold. We are a nation of Invisible People: frightened of any confrontation beyond our computer and cell phone screens. How will we re-learn the Art of spoken Communication once it is forever lost? Will our public voices continue to dwindle into nothingness ...until only silence remains? (dedicated to Paul Simon and Art Garfunkel, who envisioned this long before I did, and wrote about it in “The Sound of Silence.” Poetry can be prophesy.)

In Flames

by Rebecca Besser

Breathing

by
Jim Bronyaur

A fragile wind
The feel of your name
As it rushes into my ear.
To my heart.
Carrying a fading sky on my back
I pull the horizon to you
I pull the weak and the missing
So you can heal them with a glance.
The one that made me float.
As you look beyond what it is
What do you see?
Can you come through all that shouldn’t -
To live and be as you are?
Without it. Without everything.
I cannot be.
I just cannot be.

June Pic 1 k!

n case you havn't heard yet, we have expanded Pic 1 k into poetry. So here's the idea - you look at the picture below... write a story about it in less than a 1,000 words OR write a poem about the picture in less than a 1,000 words.
Remember the saying "A picture is worth a thousand words?" Well, prove it!
BUT there's more!

Normally the winner of Pic 1 k gets a nice interview the site but I've decided to spice things up a little... this month I am offering as follows:

ANY submission that I like will be posted on Soft Whispers site and in the monthly issue

2nd place author will receive an interview on the site to brag about ANYTHING they want!

1st place will recieve an interview PLUS a $5 giftcard from either Barnes & Noble or Amazon - their choice.

(Yes, I know that $5 isn't much but I don't have much so to me it's like giving a lot!)

When your story or poem is finished email it to SoftWhispersSubmissions@gmail.com with PIC 1 K in the subject. Make sure you include a bio! And please, no formatting or crazy fonts. I'm a boring guy - I prefer 12pt Times New Roman.

Winners will be anounce by June 5th and the giftcard will be mailed by June 10th.


Okay, so with this all said... check out this month's Pic 1 k and GET WRITING!

ISSUE FIVE - NOW AVAILABLE!

It's here!  Another month gone by... but that means another issue of Soft Whispers... this one comes with record submissions for BOTH A Line at a Time AND Pic 1 k!

Read ISSUE FIVE!

Lost the Way

by Jack Roth A stumble tumble. A hopeless hop. Everything shattered… Like a dolls face against a brick wall. The crunch and cut. The blood in the palm of my hand. A red sea shaking… Spilling over. Who needs to see to the end of the world and back? Who needs to see at all? But without sight… I’ve lost the way. Lost the way home. Lost the way to your heart. Lost all that has become ruins at my feet.