drifter1

Today is Christi Floss’ Birthday and what follows is my gift (55 words of Flash Fiction) to her. Christi is a free spirited poet who owns Getting It Right where she unknowingly published one poem in particular, Breathing You , that …pinned me for reasons some of you may guess, and fewer will know. Happiest of Birthdays Christi! Fresh Air “Air!” She gasped as her flight path sped upwards, “My sweet air.” A tear marked her cheek as she glanced back at her cage. A tear for illusions she... Read Full Story

“REBELLION” 2200 A.D. Journal entry 2210 A.D. …… My days are numbered. I’ve come to realize this. Unless help arrives soon, I fear all is lost…… The year is 2210 and our planet is at war.. A war started by a Past president resurrected by science controlled by evil. There are a few chosen warriors who stand and fight for the greater good. Longing for peace and to return Mother Earth to her former glory & beauty. Stamor- Communictons Expert – can get a message to anyone anytime... Read Full Story

Solitary Suffering Sit alone and sad Inside an empty shell No one to talk to No one to tell The pain draining life Wishing for death to stop by Nothing to do until that day But sit in confinement to cry The walls in the head Are quickly closing in. Where does being normal end Where does insanity begin? Pound on brick and stone Until fist bruise and bleed Screaming ,praying begging For the mind to be freed No help ever comes To silence the screams Lost forever in limbo... Read Full Story

Broken My spirit is broken, Never to be free Who I am is lost There is no more me No one can help me No one dare tread Who I was gone Lost forever dead Forever trapped in limbo Wondering for eternity Death is even too afraid He leaves me wondering restlessly My dreams are a memory No longer existing or there The road ends in hell The path leads to nowhere Tormented by demons That will never let me be Clawing at my mind Stealing my reality. ~Skye Poet~ @KisDaSkye on... Read Full Story

I have been exploring various forms of poetry as of late- including Mirrored Refrain , Acrostic , and hell, I wrote my fist Haiku last week. I was even tormented and tortured by the Alexandrine (thank you, you know who)—a twelve syllable poem that is two lines of six syllables separated by ||—to the point of almost giving up. But I finally worked one out I liked. The Japanese Lanturne (or Lantern) poetry form is one that I discovered to be a pleasant challenge. The traditional Lanturne... Read Full Story

Sam Spade, Phillip Marlow, Alexander Black , trench coats, fedoras, violence, and dames. Crime Noir is a literary genre made popular by the likes of Dashiell Hammet and Raymond Chandler, and has survived since the genre’s pioneer Carroll John Daly’s story, Knights of the Open Palm was published in the June, 1923 issue of Black Mask magazine. Daly’s main character in that story, Race Williams, became the model for many of the protagonists in fiction crime noir that have left bloody... Read Full Story

I turned the burner up a little with this sonnet —okay, a lot. But I also toyed with another concept here and will leave it to you, my faithful fans, to discover it. If you do–drop it in the comments…. You Folks Rock!!! The Burn Hungry fire builds in your emerald eyes Those gorgeous orbs burning with constant greed They taunt me, singe me, and tell me no lies They blaze ’cause it’s me you want, crave, and need Your touch gentle and warm, yet aching And your lips glowing sweetly... Read Full Story

Summer is winding down and I was inspired to write another poem that thrusts the four seasons together with love for another mash-up sonnet … The Season of Our Love Summer wanes like a fading ocean tide Autumn will flood and then forge its retreat Leaving Winter’s cold waters to preside Until Spring’s renewal laps at our feet Watching the heated breeze toss your soft hair Knowing Fall’s hues can’t approach your beauty Your emerald fire will melt the frigid stare I live... Read Full Story

My latest poetry submission, this sonnet , was inspired by some very beautiful words I read somewhere. Knowing where I read those words isn’t nearly as important as seeing what I felt because of those words. Inspiration is out there, floating around- all anyone needs to do is to be open and ready for when the ideas fly in. And then the fun starts: We have to take those ideas and dig deep inside of ourselves to discover all emotions we tag to the incoming concepts… The River’s Mist... Read Full Story

My third published poem in a week is again not a sonnet, hell, I wouldn’t know what to call this except another foray into an emotion uncovered and played with while I watched the sun come up a few days ago… Yes, I am Watching the Sunrise Yes, I am watching the sunrise And holding your weary head Stay with me for day’s surprise And then together love we’ll bed See the outing of the stars, love And the lifting of the night’s shade Watch the colors change above Then in our... Read Full Story