by
Rosalyn H. Marhatta
She traces the rim of the wineglass
with her index finger
feeling the tune it plays as the air shivers
around the table of sparkling expectations.
Tilting the glass to her lips,
she blows a melody into the red liquid of dreams
and stares across the table at him, watching
as he folds the napkin into his lap for the third time
to cover his thoughts
of her closeness
and what would happen after dinner.
He adjusts his collar and pulls at it
before he leans
into her aura
to touch the air closest to her with his lips
and feel the heat of her breath that shimmers with the scent of rose petals
and lemon drops.
Her eyelashes flutter like hummingbird wings
as she screens her emotions with the care of
a surgeon making his first cut.
Never the gambler, the wine emboldens her
and she throws her emotional dice
on the table and swallows the last of her reserve
before drinking in his desire
and tasting the wine of her future
after dinner.
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
On the Air
by
Maria Kelly
the Breath of the World is not
stoppered in a jar,
or produced with a machine.
the Wind whispers on its way
from Here to Somewhere Else:
it is Nature’s greatest contradiction.
it is neither close nor far.
it is invisible,
and is as unknowable
as the hour of one’s Death.
it is as fleeting and as constant
and as precious as Life.
it moves---and lives:
with everything,
through everything,
in Everything.
Maria Kelly
the Breath of the World is not
stoppered in a jar,
or produced with a machine.
the Wind whispers on its way
from Here to Somewhere Else:
it is Nature’s greatest contradiction.
it is neither close nor far.
it is invisible,
and is as unknowable
as the hour of one’s Death.
it is as fleeting and as constant
and as precious as Life.
it moves---and lives:
with everything,
through everything,
in Everything.
Monday, July 26, 2010
Polar Melt
by
Gary Beck
Sea ice in the Arctic,
habitat for polar bears,
is melting so quickly
that bears are losing their homes
and must swim for their lives
in a desperate attempt
to reach the polar ice edge,
so far away most won't arrive.
Since we won't stop climate change,
perhaps President Obama
should order the construction
of artificial ice floes
to house an endangered species.
Gary Beck
Sea ice in the Arctic,
habitat for polar bears,
is melting so quickly
that bears are losing their homes
and must swim for their lives
in a desperate attempt
to reach the polar ice edge,
so far away most won't arrive.
Since we won't stop climate change,
perhaps President Obama
should order the construction
of artificial ice floes
to house an endangered species.
Thursday, July 22, 2010
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
Triumpant
by
Michelle Dennis Evans
Fearlessly flying
Freedom flourishing
Boasting and cheering
It’s done, complete
The winner you meet
It’s all because of defeat
The high mountain
The ridge sharp
Balance required
The prize of great worth
Taken
Triumphant
Michelle Dennis Evans
Fearlessly flying
Freedom flourishing
Boasting and cheering
It’s done, complete
The winner you meet
It’s all because of defeat
The high mountain
The ridge sharp
Balance required
The prize of great worth
Taken
Triumphant
Monday, July 19, 2010
A Line at a Time #24
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.)
The rusted points... aimed at my heart
A Line at a Time #23 - THE RESULTS
The sun, the stars, the sky... is on fire
The golden gleam of life....desire
I look into the brilliance, and inside the golden fire I see your face
And my soul rejoices with the light...
THE CONTRIBUTORS:
The sun, the stars, the sky... is on fire (Jim Bronyaur, www.twitter.com/jimbronyaur)
The golden gleam of life....desire (Cynthia Schuerr, http://www.theheartofwriting.blogspot.com)
I look into the brilliance, and inside the golden fire I see your face (Katrina DeLallo)
And my soul rejoices with the light... (Rebecca Besser, www.rebeccabesser.com)
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
Monday, July 12, 2010
Wisdom Filled
by
Michelle Dennis Evans
Shimmering in the winter sun
Silver haired
Wise and frail
Able to move fingers still
Sewing precious treasures
Cross stitch, running stitch
Sweet embroidered beauties
Ready to mark the pages
Of books still yet to read
Faces familiar
Friendly family
The joyful life
Know soon
The end is near
A memory
Left for all
Enchanted
Endearing
Michelle Dennis Evans
Shimmering in the winter sun
Silver haired
Wise and frail
Able to move fingers still
Sewing precious treasures
Cross stitch, running stitch
Sweet embroidered beauties
Ready to mark the pages
Of books still yet to read
Faces familiar
Friendly family
The joyful life
Know soon
The end is near
A memory
Left for all
Enchanted
Endearing
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
Monday, July 5, 2010
A Line at a Time #23
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.)
The sun, the stars, the sky... is on fire
A Line at a Time #22 - THE RESULTS
Everything I thought I knew has now left me...
Where am I? What am I waking to?
They waited below and they called to me; some with encouragement, others with derision.
They waited below and they called to me; some with encouragement, others with derision.
Do you think you'll be able to put any weight on that other foot?
Broken, alone, and wandering. . .
THE CONTRIBUTORS:
Everything I thought I knew has now left me... (Jim Bronyaur, www.twitter.com/jimbronyaur)
Where am I? What am I waking to? (Cynthia Schuerr, http://www.theheartofwriting.blogspot.com)
They waited below and they called to me; some with encouragement, others with derision. (Mo Joria)
Do you think you'll be able to put any weight on that other foot? (Claudette Young, http://claudsy.wordpress.com)
Broken, alone, and wandering. . . (Rebecca Besser, www.rebeccabesser.com)
My Quicksand (part two)
by
V.J. Maddox
So the fairytale had ended –
But the story, continued on.
I sunk deeper in my quicksand…
My will, my spirit – Broken. Gone.
I didn’t know you anymore,
But you didn’t seem to care.
I was suppose to adjust, and quickly.
No matter how unfair.
I clung to that faded dream…
The one of you and me.
It became a heavy weight upon my shoulders
A shroud wrapped tightly – suffocating me.
My broken heart… shattered.
There wasn’t much left to mend.
The crunch of the pieces under your feet, was deafening…
I tried to cover my ears – and pleaded for it to end.
I don’t know how I did it…
No one lent me a helping hand.
I climbed out of that god damn pit myself,
And somehow –
With as much pride that was left for me to command,
I wiped off the sludge surrounding me –
And I escaped the ghost of you.
My Love… My Life… My Quicksand.
V.J. Maddox
So the fairytale had ended –
But the story, continued on.
I sunk deeper in my quicksand…
My will, my spirit – Broken. Gone.
I didn’t know you anymore,
But you didn’t seem to care.
I was suppose to adjust, and quickly.
No matter how unfair.
I clung to that faded dream…
The one of you and me.
It became a heavy weight upon my shoulders
A shroud wrapped tightly – suffocating me.
My broken heart… shattered.
There wasn’t much left to mend.
The crunch of the pieces under your feet, was deafening…
I tried to cover my ears – and pleaded for it to end.
I don’t know how I did it…
No one lent me a helping hand.
I climbed out of that god damn pit myself,
And somehow –
With as much pride that was left for me to command,
I wiped off the sludge surrounding me –
And I escaped the ghost of you.
My Love… My Life… My Quicksand.
Friday, July 2, 2010
Implosion
by
Jim Bronyaur / Laura Mercurio Ebohon
It was easy to fall
harder to realize it!
It all happened
at the center of those days
where time was a side matter
planning
strategic demolition
of these walls
brick by brick
layer by layer
a gravitational collapse
an implosion of senses
crashing stars in our sky
What is left now of all that noise?
broken pieces
without color
without texture
thin and fragile
like leaves in the autumn wind
they make no sound
floating restless
holding hope
of touching the ground
________
rusted rumble
chasing the time.
Each word –
another shot
another chip off a broken heart.
Stained glass eyes
distort the truth.
A one sided, endless cycle of love.
The love disguised for
Want.
Need.
Touch.
Taste. . .
The warm breath on your neck –
feels greater than the cold winter breeze.
The punch of reality.
The shadow that passes with the day.
A soft touch on your cheek –
feels greater than a bitter winter smack.
The punch of reality.
The shadow that passes with the day.
Can you catch your breath as if races from you?
Can you follow the sound of your own footsteps?
The door.
The entrance.
The life.
The words.
The heart.
The handle is so cold outside. . .
but inside. . .
inside is warm. . .
everything falls inside.
Jim Bronyaur / Laura Mercurio Ebohon
It was easy to fall
harder to realize it!
It all happened
at the center of those days
where time was a side matter
planning
strategic demolition
of these walls
brick by brick
layer by layer
a gravitational collapse
an implosion of senses
crashing stars in our sky
What is left now of all that noise?
broken pieces
without color
without texture
thin and fragile
like leaves in the autumn wind
they make no sound
floating restless
holding hope
of touching the ground
________
rusted rumble
chasing the time.
Each word –
another shot
another chip off a broken heart.
Stained glass eyes
distort the truth.
A one sided, endless cycle of love.
The love disguised for
Want.
Need.
Touch.
Taste. . .
The warm breath on your neck –
feels greater than the cold winter breeze.
The punch of reality.
The shadow that passes with the day.
A soft touch on your cheek –
feels greater than a bitter winter smack.
The punch of reality.
The shadow that passes with the day.
Can you catch your breath as if races from you?
Can you follow the sound of your own footsteps?
The door.
The entrance.
The life.
The words.
The heart.
The handle is so cold outside. . .
but inside. . .
inside is warm. . .
everything falls inside.
Thursday, July 1, 2010
1st place winner for June's Pic 1 K....
What was the inspiration for your poem? And don't say the picture! Besides that...
Hmmm... I guess it would have to be that inside we are all travelers, as we seek our way through life. We are always looking for a path, safety, and the things we need to make it to the next day. The Traveler is all of us.
Okay, what's going on over at Living Dead Press these days?
Lots! There are a couple anthologies open. They are actively seeking children's halloween stories and Extreme Aquatic stories. Check out their submissions page for details.
End of Days 4 will be available really soon! Which we are BOTH in!
Also, LDP's first children's antho will be available soon. Which I'm in and edited. ;)
I read you have a submission goal for this year? What is it? How's it going?
Well, my goal this year was a submissions number. I wanted to submit at least 150 times this year. The more submissions you get out there, the more chances you have for a yes. So far this year I've been published a bunch! It seems to be working. ;) I'm currently at 110, and it's only half way through the year.
Unofficial goals were to get into an antho and get a novel done. I've been in a few anthos, so I made that one. Now I just have to work on the novel!
Do you think the world will end in 2012?
Nope. Just because we expect it to. :p
If you could meet one person - alive or dead - who would it be?
That was really easy for me, since I'm a Christian...... Jesus. Would love to meet him face to face. Can you ever imagine how AWESOME that would be? (Although, being a Christian, I've already meet him. hehehe)
Tell everyone again (in case they didn't read last month's interview) - where else can people find you?
Most of my info is on my website: http://www.rebeccabesser.com/
I'm also on Facebook!
AND... here's a teaser of the winning poem:
The vacant pinnacle stands erect on the horizon.
A sign of hope to the traveler.
Unused ground, decaying buildings in a row.
A sign of yesterday to the traveler.
To read Becca's winning poem check out the FREE Issue Six of Soft Whispers - check it out!
2nd place winner for June's Pic 1 K....
Besides the picture, what was the inspiration for the story?
Wow, there were so many things that inspired this story. One was that my husband and I just annulled a business agreement with a partner. Another piece of inspiration was that my brother has taken over a family business but still has our father and uncle working with him. So I have been thinking about businesses that work and businesses that fail and all the businesses in between.
How long did it take you to write?
I wrote it over two sessions. I wasn’t happy with the flow so I had to leave it for a few days and re-write parts. It would have taken around one to one and a half hours all up.
What's your favorite food?
Chocolate!
Where can Soft Whispers readers find you on the internet?
(site, Twitter, etc.) Ah haaa free promotion – Love it! Readers can find me on Twitter @MichelleDEvans , Facebook @ Michelle Dennis Evans and my blog is http://michelledevans.blogspot.com
Where else have you been published?
So far I’ve been published in, 12 Days of Christmas Anthology, Eclectic Flash and Write Online. I’m soon to be published in, The best of Friday Flash 2009 Anthology and Daily Flash: 365 Days of Flash Fiction.
What's your favorite song?
I listen to a lot of music and I love love love heaps of songs but can’t think of one that stands out as a favourite.
What are you plans for 2010?
In January I declared that this was the year of getting published. Now that I have been published, I hope to get paid for what I love to do. Outside of my writing my husband and I are just setting up our new Real Estate business ‘Finesse’ Of course we expect nothing but success for the rest of the year.
How about a little teaser of the story?
Des, do you remember when we were in the building phase?' Joe asked. 'And we thought nothing would come in our way, and we were as tall in chest as anyone had ever seen.'
'Sure, I remember,' said Des, 'some 40 years ago now.'
Read the rest of Michelle's winning story in the FREE Issue Six of Soft Whispers - check it out!
July Pic 1 k
In 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 Amazon.
(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 August 5th and the giftcard will be mailed by August 10th.
Okay, so with this all said... check out this month's Pic 1 k and GET WRITING!
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 Amazon.
(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 August 5th and the giftcard will be mailed by August 10th.
Okay, so with this all said... check out this month's Pic 1 k and GET WRITING!
Explosion
by
Laura Mercurio Ebohon
It was a crash
sudden
unexpected collision
It sounded like thunder
it smelled like storm
it played like strong beats
It looked like shreds of flesh
drops of blood
floating rags
in the wind of unknown lands
blowing against far away skies
My earthly refuge was invaded
my heavenly home was attacked
my path was crossed
Then the explosion...
Red flames and yellow screams
grey clouds black smoke
Roads and buildings became dust
Like sand of deserts
running through my hands
Silence took over
Quiet like hope
Still like patience
white mantle
of the inevitable sound of never...
Laura Mercurio Ebohon
It was a crash
sudden
unexpected collision
It sounded like thunder
it smelled like storm
it played like strong beats
It looked like shreds of flesh
drops of blood
floating rags
in the wind of unknown lands
blowing against far away skies
My earthly refuge was invaded
my heavenly home was attacked
my path was crossed
Then the explosion...
Red flames and yellow screams
grey clouds black smoke
Roads and buildings became dust
Like sand of deserts
running through my hands
Silence took over
Quiet like hope
Still like patience
white mantle
of the inevitable sound of never...
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