One mention yesterday, just the body count. An ordinary day at an American school.
The news again
the end result of bloody toys
the news again
like some unfunny tired refrain
the mess caused by those manly toys
yet silence follows now, not noise,
the news again.
This morning, in the field, the noise of winged flurry, bright plumes threshing and hoarse bird cough. Leaf-flutter and branches parting, and pheasants land in a pool of peace. A truce, a stay of execution only, for they will not stay, even though I creep away and pretend I haven’t seen. Cage birds, freed for a brief moment, male and female with no nest, no young, no future but to fall beneath the bullets for someone’s bit of fun.
Life’s cycle turns, brings
birth, life, death, some pain, some joy—
man, terminator.
Ramblings of an Irish ecologist and gardener
Poetry of a changing Earth. The grief is real--so is the hope.
Inspiring others through the written word, fictional blurbs & documenting my writing process from scratch.
occasional musings of an itinerant seanchaí polishing his craft online
The Things That Are In My Head.
offbeat words for you...
Just writing what's on my mind
AS HUMILDES OPINIÕES DE UMA MULHER DE CORAGEM QUE DIZ SIM À VIDA!
And so it goes...
My journey through photography
Inspiration and Spirituality **Award Free**
≈ fictionalpaper / piccoloscissors / creativeglue ≈
Philosophy is all about being curious, asking basic questions. And it can be fun!
Not a literary magazine for ordinary times, but a journal for an exceptional one. Writing the pandemic, together. Image, Somewhere in Time by Hengki Lee: Instagram @hengki_lee
Running in the slow lane
It started as a 366 - now a regular Photoblog- just for the love of taking photos and sharing them.
I'll talk you'll talk we'll talk
Promoting mindful living
A r t w o r k . . . f r o m . . . . . . H a m b u r g . . . . . . . . . . . . . G e r m a n y
October and November 2019
"Words are all we have" Samuel Beckett.
sharing the stories of interconnection
Jottings of a Storyhound
Anita Dawes & Jaye Marie
Just another blog of random thoughts.
Artist by choice, photographer by default, poet by accident.
lines that aim to be
And then I stop and sit and eat.
