So my new short story (and if this shows up again in fours months to be looked at for my Intro to Fictional Writing class, you never saw it before, okay?) is a little weird. I'm literally only two paragraphs in and the whole thing keeps shifting around, plotwise. The narrator changed from Big Sister to Little Sister (there are no names yet, ( Read more... )

Dance with me,

you whisper,

and so I take your hands,

giving myself to you,

letting you lead me.

We dance through time,

from wild rain-dances,

sun-dances, buffalo-dances,

prayer-dances,

to the great swinging circles

of village celebrations;

from the Morris that

welcomes life

to the other Morris

that must be danced in balance.

Box- ( Read more... )

Jesus, savior,
they called you Joshua,
carpenter's son,
in those thirty years
between your birth
and your death,
those years which the Bible
does not touch.

That was supposed to be longer, but it wasn't. My religion class, not to mention an evening of reading Lamb: The Gospel According to Biff, Christ's Childhood Pal, are getting to me.

"Her ineptness in this matter
is inarguable and obvious,"
says the man in the suit
of the girl at the table.
"It is her employer's fault
for setting her a task
at which she was sure to fail.
Are you surprised
that she would lash out?"
The girl stays silent
(she doesn't say much).
There is nothing in her demeanor
to suggest her desire
to have hit ( Read more... )

Adam

I
came first.
In the Garden,
I laid my hands
on the hide
of the great king lizard,
feeding him with fruit,
until sweet Eve
handed it to me.
Then his roar echoed
and we ran into
the land beyond,
had our sons,
and knew no more of him.

Australopithecus africanus

I
am your grandsire,
monkey-like, tree- ( Read more... )

This first one is illustrated in some sketchbook I have.

Wings

Pain has wings of shattered glass
That cut, deep to the bone.
And grief has wings of ice and snow
That make you mourn alone -
Despair has wings of metal sharp
That destroy and rend and tear...
But Death has wings of feathered black
That shelter you with care.

(caption to this was: "Life got bad, ( Read more... )

Remembering Aslan

Lion who is never tame -
the part of me
that believes in God,
in salvation,
in something greater
than myself,
and in redemption,
still believes
in you.
I am no Susan
to turn my back
on Narnia,
or to forget the scent
of your mane,
the heavy velvet
of your paws,
the color of your eyes
looking into mine,
and what I see in them.
I will remember you
when ( Read more... )

Refusing Love
(A Sort-of Sonnet)“I will spend this day alone ( Read more... )

Don’t Buy Me Flowers
Or, Villanelle for a ValentineLove is not measured in flowers ( Read more... )

Russia, continued. Melissa, your word on this?

( Jao slept uneasily and lightly, although she did not dream. )