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- 06/23/16--09:23: _short story slam we...
- 07/05/16--10:48: _story of the week 4...
- 07/07/16--14:20: _short story slam we...
- 07/19/16--12:17: _story of the week 4...
- 07/21/16--09:51: _short story slam we...
- 08/02/16--08:42: _short story slam we...
- 08/04/16--15:28: _Short Story Slam We...
- 08/16/16--11:13: _story of the week o...
- 08/18/16--07:13: _short story slam we...
- 08/22/16--09:13: _short story slam 51...
- 08/30/16--16:43: _story of the week 5...
- 09/01/16--08:55: _short story slam we...
- 09/13/16--07:19: _short story slam we...
- 09/15/16--07:42: _short story slam we...
- 09/28/16--06:16: _story of the week 5...
- 09/29/16--10:23: _short story slam we...
- 10/11/16--07:18: _story of the week o...
- 10/13/16--10:48: _short story slam we...
- 11/01/16--10:21: _story of the week 5...
- 11/03/16--10:06: _short story slam we...
- 07/05/16--10:48: story of the week 47: I Am The Exile Then
- 07/19/16--12:17: story of the week 48, nathan oglala sioux on daniel pawhuska
- 08/02/16--08:42: short story slam week 49 story of the week, Providence by KaySalady
- 08/16/16--11:13: story of the week on shortstoryslamweek50: a poem by poetry road
- 08/18/16--07:13: short story slam week 51: touch the sky dreams, 8/18/2016---9/4/2016
- 08/30/16--16:43: story of the week 51, anjum wasim dar and summer rain, thmbs up!
- 09/28/16--06:16: story of the week 53, Rachel Wood
- 10/11/16--07:18: story of the week on sssw54, pure2core and Hillford
- 11/01/16--10:21: story of the week 55, on Alison Jason Clinton
Happy Independent Day,
See fireworks, and smile at Green earth and Blue flags !!!!
a story form helen faust
beneath another sun must have been mine.
I speak a new language and clasp your hand,
I taste the grapes from your vine,
They are sour, bitter to my mouth,
I don't enjoy such,
missing home, both north and south!
I prefer my own kind of fruit,
peaches or oranges are sweet and good,
I dwell on words that's soft
with friends and eyes,
gentle and aloft.
posted under nathan oglala sioux lovely entry,
museums and attractions
Chris Dixon and Daniel Pawhuska
we list lots of things
we let people grow thousand mile versions
woolaroc Ranch, Museum and Wildlife Preserve
Webbers Falls Historical museum
Three Valley Exhibits
Tahlonteeskee Cherokee Courthouse Museum
Spiro Mounds Archaeological Center
Southern Plains Museum
Seminole Nation Museum
Osage Tribal Museum
Jacobson House Native Art Center
John Hair Museum
Gardner Mission and Museum
Fort Sill Historic Landmark and museum
Fred Jones Museum art
Five Civilized Tribes Museum
my eyes grow dizzy
my figures become numb
the red eye opens wide
the green sheen remains active in pride
Maryann Paturenskiajotab the swan fairy
Hello, story tellers and poetic talents:
Today we post two poems, and encouraging you to write poems, and share stories
on swan theme, romance, haiku, lyrics, short memo, flash fiction 160, 55, or 100 words,
anything apply here, good luck!
featured poem number one:
From the Gypsies Metamorphos'd
by Ben Jonson
the faiery became upon you,
the starres to glister on you,
A Moon of light,
In the Noone of night,
Till the Fire-Drake hath o're-gone you.
The Wheele of fortune guide you,
The Boy with the Bow beside you,
Runne aye in the way,
Till the Bird of day,
And the Lucklyer lot betide you.
featured poem number two:
by Edwin Muir
friend, i have lost the way,
the way leads on,
is there another way
the way is one.
i must retracee the track,
it's lost and gone.
back, i must travel back,
none goes there, none.
then i'll make here my place,
(the road leads on)
stand still and set my face
(the road leads on)
stay here, for every stay,
none stays here, none
I can not find the way,
the way leads on
Oh, please I have passed
that journey's done
and what will come at last?
the road leads on!
From the center of a crowd
Shadowed by a cloud of isolation
While on the inside looking out
I can feel a silent shout
Wishing to begin again
And wanting so much to fit in
A world that has me by the tail
I fear for all my days
This chase within a maze
Will never cease
And as the feathers fly
Into that discontented sky
I search to find the source
Of my release
Just when I think all hope is gone
I find the strength to lean upon
Must come from wisdom’s bitter well
As I kneel, I find perfection
Inside my own reflection
This truth is difficult to tell
My entry for Bluebell Books Twitter Club Week 49
she writes beautifully, thanks
some interesting notes on natives(additional information)
kaw city, ok
emily norcross dickinson, edward dickinson,
parents to emily dickinson
Jay, OK 74346
Duck Creek Casino
greetings, we loved your active inputs last week,
we feel absolutely positive about this week 50 prompt,
it is about
hope, education, memory, invention, and satisfaction
poetry road via sheryl page
a poem is written via creative imagery and unexpected sentences,
it is like fishing at Happiness Ditch,
Thanks for sharing
Hiding from Spirits Oct31 by PoetryRoad
Anxiety stretched across a painted sky
Emotions run from screams
Shadows dance upon the graves
Behind the stones I hide
From the ancestors left behind
Mindless thoughts turned inside out
Regret fills my soul
Words never spoken cry
Pages of a book never turned
Lessons too late learned
The stone grows cold
Against my back
Darkened like the sky
Time was not the reason
Nor was the change of season
Just life in a young girl
Selfish whims and vanity
Questions chase the shadows
Regret fills the empty hole
Forgiveness seals the broken soul
The arm of death stretches
Wrapping itself around so close
The sky brings mornings light
The tears dry and I am alone
Reminded of a place called Home
short story slam 51 weeks celebration, in addition to 5/2/2011---8/22/2016,
five years, 3 months, 3 weeks long blogging, which means
1835 plus 17 sun-moon days of story brewing
our inspirational blogging prompts
Microfiction Mondays by Susan PetitJean
one of entries is below:
a baby dragon is born
the long horse kingdom is filled with rosy mood
a diving king
a swimming swan
if he smiles at shen
if he giggles at ella mother goose
things lighten up
if he winks at googler juliet stevenfannies
things cool down
when he speaks of the name of henryetta francisco brown
Blue Monday - Smiling Sally's Gift
We are looking for bloggers/writers who can work as officials, conducting bookreviews written by bloggers on the following categories:
Mondays, The Poetry Paradise, (positions filled)
Tuesdays, Novels/Short Stories Shine (positions filled)
Wednesdays, The Children's playground, (positions filled)
Thursdays, surprise to be announced
Fridays, Cool Cooking (positions filled)
Saturdays, Biography/Autography Books (positions filled)
Sundays, News/New Releases(positions filled)
Please leave a comment with your blog link if you are interested in working as an official, email firstname.lastname@example.org for details...no payment for officials, this is a non-profit orgnaization that intends to serve a community of bloggers who write, inspire, and share....
This is a site promoting books, we list books published for free!
Our first post is May 2, 2011...
today we promote two talented story writers, who write
with love and care
anjum wasim dar
pageants of multi colored circles
continuously mixing separating forming
eternal orbiting rainbows
like multifarious lens opening in the sky
up high,round and round they move
was the sky ever dark or blue
incredible miraculous amazing hue
Divine Power manifest unimaginable
mesmerized I gaze and try to comprehend
Love is Supreme in colors and scheme
in a flash…all was glowing -the evening sun
shone ,I saw it smile,coming closer …closer
dancing with joy, whirling twirling…fading down
I waved farewell… and heard ‘the predawn prayer’
Many eons ago, humans and Gods lived together. It was a time of abundance and joy. Thirst or hunger were unknown and the slightest flicker of a desire was fulfilled. Into this world of bounty tiptoed Love in her chariot of flowers and myrrh, not to forget her gifts of passion and lust. With Love visiting them, the humans and Gods were put in a state of disarray. Suddenly, desires were not crystal clear as before. Their minds were often in the throes of passion, love and lust to think without pause. They were like leaves on waves, tossed about mercilessly.
For the first time in history, a conference was called. Humans and Gods and animals and plants and insects and birds – they wondered how they could address this strange yet seemingly unsurmountable problem. Love was an extremely powerful force and they couldn’t stand up to her. They had never seen someone like her.
Love attended the conference in her robe of jasmine flowers and lotus leaves. She heard them speak and listened. And then, she listened some more. Finally, she told them they had a choice.
Yes, she said , in her strong, clear voice. It can help you stay calm and yet seat me on your mantle, worshipped with incense and doused in perfume.
Time is the choice, she continued. You have been living a timeless existence. But just a little distance away, unknown to any of you, lies the eternal dark. A darkness that can be transcended only by me. An obscure land wherein lies the most beautiful thing in the world : death. When life can begin again. Where we can begin, again and again. And that is my choice.
You can live timelessly without me . Or you can choose to step over into the dark, where time can heal and soothe your soul. Over this wondrous thing called Time, you can become one with me and we can flow seamlessly over time (again), beginning again and yet again. It is your chance to be as powerful as I am. The creatures of the world were perplexed. Love spoke again,
When you choose Time, you also choose me for but a short while. For I cannot fly but on her arms. And my charms are powerless before her magnetic, radiant smile.
It is decided then, said everyone. We, the creatures of the universe, choose Time. We welcome her into our world.
And that is how Time, Death and therefore Life, came to be.
This story has been submitted to the Bluebell Books Short Story Slam at :
image credit: Vagina Oaktree
focus on mind reading, invisible thinking, weekend traveling, attentive listening, and
positive wording, write some short fiction on yourself, your children, or things you enjoy.
Asim Kumar Paul
a brave writer, poet, who works diligently sharing poetry and stories with bluebell,
Short story slam week 52: READING
image credits: Carolyn Greenwood,
Reading is power, how to read and react properly,
this is another question, we love anything regarding
reading, writing, and sharing....
a story shall be made mostly thrilling, inspiring, and joyful
we focus on pleasant stories and beautiful reading environments,
we love books, and admirable insights in those prints.
keep poetry running
Rainbowl fish by Marcus PFister
Look at the nature , water or land
Look at birds Breathing fresh air,
Look at each of these animal
Being it’s confident self ,
Look at the fishes swimming in sea
Just like dance…
yet eyes wide open alert
Flowing through life
Not being Naive,
Freedom is State of being free
This is the true nature that should be!
Relieve yourselves from thoughts
that chain from being free
Living means having life
Freedom allows one to live
Are’nt we part of these nature
and the other beings around?
Free your hearts from noise
fill them with silence
Bring inner beauty and love
RADIATE THEM OUT!
Be free be happy
exist in present
Being present in NOW
A Happy living!
frightgeist and witch crafts
scary moments and childhood nightmare
when kids, adults, and young adults gather,
they have spirits to think about
yahoo, google, sony, motorola,
ford, nisan, honda, toyota, and cisco
apple computer fights toward hp or levono,
dell pc stands firm toward toshiba
lots of sweating moments
let's understand Harry Potter, and Scrubby-Doo...
please enjoy blog here Alison Jason Clinton
mage credit: Feng Zhao
Greetings? How are you?
where do you come from?
where do you live?
we come from the Gate of Heaven, Tian Men,
we come from the island of Sheep, Mian Yang,
we come from capital city of Middle Kingdom, Zhong Guo,
we come from Windy city Chicago, Feng Cheng,
we come from North East Harbor Princeton, Princess Xiang Tan
we come from New Mexico, Prince Mark Hillford
we come from San Francisco, Saint Benjamin Stephan
and we miss our hometown city Household Mountain, Fang Shan
It is time to view these places as passport, visa, or driver's licenses,
so that we cherish our memory art, and smile at Radio station we
have listened, and feel confident about the airport we have stopped
stay put, mostly,
think far, mostly