TBF features for the week of November 8, 2010

It’s been so long since I’ve had the opportunity to select feature works, so I’m very excited! I hope you enjoy this passionate and emotional picks.

 

Together agains the waves of life (by robinellenlucas)

we are
together
against the waves
of life…

take my hand
move forward with me
quietly
to discover…

only because i whispered it
only because i asked you

r.e.l. 10/23/10

 
Foolish girl (by Jet…)

Foolish Girl-
One sided heart.
You let it fall…

Foolish girl

 
Ange blanc by Auquier



50-Foot Barbie Has Some Questions About God by Margaret Bryant

 

Moonlit Hands by lolowe

Your hands
Resemble a leaf struck
By the moon
Veins
On a surface
Of transparent brown
Paper thin
Fragile
Shaking in the wind

 

Your Eyes by kashmirecho

I was wrong about your eyes. They are not blue. They are a golden hue- a color I’ve never seen before except maybe in a crayon box. Not a gold like 24K jewelry-a deeper color but still as bright-twinkling like a star. Glowing like war embers in a hot fire, especially when we hold each other’s gaze for more than a few seconds. The heat is in our eyes, I’m sure you can see it in mine too. I think our eyes were meant to meet.

 

ever-present by David Mowbray

 

Hello Grandpa by KLPJPhoto

 

Your Eyes by kashmirecho

was wrong about your eyes. They are not blue. They are a golden hue- a color I’ve never seen before except maybe in a crayon box. Not a gold like 24K jewelry-a deeper color but still as bright-twinkling like a star. Glowing like war embers in a hot fire, especially when we hold each other’s gaze for more than a few seconds. The heat is in our eyes, I’m sure you can see it in mine too. I think our eyes were meant to meet.

CONVOS WITH GOD THE 3:16 FILES by 8upchef

As I listen to you
Speaking through John
I am glad to have you
Sitting beside me
I have so many questions

Why did you send him
Why didn’t you come
Were you afraid
Was he afraid
Did it work

You sent you’re son
He whom you love most
Which is a better jesture
Than coming yourself
And we believe

You could not come yourself
That would be self serving
You teach us against that
We heed your warnings
And we believe

You were afraid
But not for yourself, for us
What we could self inflict
But you guided us
And we believe

Christ did fear
Not for himself
But for our deaf masses
But he made us listen
And we believe

It worked so very well
In him you sent lessons
You sent salvation
You sent your truth
And we believe

So thank you
For sitting here with me
And talking with me
For answering me
And putting me at ease

 

Orbiting Space and Coffee Rings by Kristin Reynolds

My Grandmother
hummed songs
to no-one—
to darkness,
to anyone

while circling
the rim of her coffee cup
with three crooked
middle fingers.

Half the time she would whistle—
half the time it was
just the click of her
long fingernails
seeking new orbits
from memory,
touching what she could
of earth;
holding her feet
down.

My five year old daughter
just asked her eight year old brother:
“Are you still blind?”
Just as I was about to write the next line
of this poem—
about how their Great Grandmother
was blind;
and how I figured,
that the reason she circled that coffee cup’s rim
was:
because touching anything
is better
than touching nothing.

No answer.
My daughter asks louder:
“Are you still blind?”
My son is Frankenstein armed, and grabbing
my shoulder;
I am staring in disbelief.
“Mom? Is that you?” he asks,
pretending around corners
through time.

I answer him—dumbstruck and smiling
at the way it all works, the clock guts
and genius of this whole operation—
“Yes, dear, it’s me.”

“Oh.” He answers,
then gone.

“Are you still blind!”
His sister yells
through space—through
hollow-mouthed threads

as I am circling
around the last time
I saw
my Grandmother’s face;

and how I just…

walked out
that door.

gone.

© Kristin Reynolds 11 7 2010

 

Verte Eco-Friendly by Shanina Conway

 

love and gravity 2-a tribute to Newton and Einstein by Frederic Levy-Hadida

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