What a fun read. Good concept I would love to see some of the musicians who have passed on just for one night in all hallows eve!
The poem seemed to flow well and was easy to read. The storyline was fun and imaginative.
Pretty good. The scene has been set and the questions have been placed on the table. Seems everybody wonders what the other is doing or thinking. Is it human nature to want what we don't have? From experience and through getting older I have learned that the grass isn't always greener on the other side.
I enjoyed the read. keep up the good work.
well written, I have had strained relations with my family in the past and just when I think everything has worked itself out something else comes up, where mom is pushing my buttons or bringing up the past. I know resentment and anger is not the way to live. I like what you said, God forgives and so should we. Thank you for sharing such a deep subject. My prayers are with you that Gods will be done in your situation as well as mine. It does give me comfort to know I am not alone.
Such a comforting poem about the changes of the seasons and nature in general. Yes I too love those summer nights and extended hours of warmth and daylight but do long for the cooler weather. I can hear the crackle of the fireplace and taste those seasonal treats that wintertime brings. Thanks for sharing such a great piece. Write On.
Cody
very strange, but I read on questioning what was going to happen next. there were some parts of the story that was hard to follow. I got lost during the shooting Trinas boyfriend where did he come from? and sally shot him why? good description and you painted a picture of the school and the people in it.
As a native of West Texas we didn't have squirrels growing up but as I have gotten older they have become more populous in my area. Not sure if they came in with the big archetects bringing the oak trees from other places, or just natural migration. I certainly enjoy watching them and appreciate their survival skills.
I could see your poem reflecting the survival and the nature of these bushy tailed critters.
Good story and dialogue. I felt myself being in the predicament of being stuck. My own hands losing their grip and the fears and energy flowing in my mind. I liked to play along the creek beds as a child too, and remember an old rope swing at my great Uncles house over the concho river, where I too would swing but was often scared to let go.
I enjoyed reading this piece. It gave some helpful ideas in a very simple setting. Writing about not so big things seems to be a good idea, I love the details. The candy wrapper. Good technique.
I like the concept, appears to be two children arguing. The dialogue was easy to follow and the storyline was fun and interesting. The rhyming mythical creatures Blizzard Lizard and Ice mice was an added touch. Snow snakes under the porch will make me think twice this winter. Fun story made me smile this Sunday Morning. Thanks for Sharing.
nice poem, gave me a lot to ponder, I like the visuals, "You formed in the station lights" and "Under the crooked streetlamp"
I have never been on a train but I believe it to be romantic. Or maybe sad depending if one was coming or going..
I see the tracks you speak of "hammers and ties laid by dead hands of men"
I personally follow the western genre most of all and think of the Chinese, and slaves building the tracks out west to a new land and a new world.
wow, what a great ending. surprised, but grateful the officer followed his training. daughter or not the terrorist was in the wrong and the officer did his duty to save more innocent lives. It was a well written and believable story. I enjoyed reading it.
What a nice sonnet to those who may have otherwise been forgotten. I often walk around an empty graveyard and wonder who these people may have been, what they were like. Does anyone care or come to visit them? Your story was well written, and easy to follow. I could relate and read it to its entirety.
Enjoyed the storyline.. The hunting dog,the outlaw, the buildup through the sign, the store, and the saloon. Good dialogue. I found humor, and found the story believable.
Ha! certainly some things I suppose I always took for granted. I am an avid western movie watcher and reader, and hopefully a writer some day. I like to call myself a cowboy, but just wearing the hat doesn't make me one I know. I feel like your piece was well written, I found it humorous, but packed with good information as well. I did watch one of the Young Guns however where the bad guy went to the outhouse and was shot by Billy the Kid, while on the potty.. so I guess they did go on occasion. They ate Pheasant way out in Lincoln New Mexico where I don't believe one has ever lived.. Guess that's why they had to go digest.. anyway enough of my ramblings this is about you not me.. Thanks for the smile.
"set out for way to the far away" what a powerful statement. Travel to the unknown. Whether Pioneers on a wagon train, or an immigrant on a great sailing ship. What lies ahead? Will things be better or stay the same? "set out for way to the far away" has my mind wandering to those places I have never been. A bucket list full of new and exciting sight and sound. Is the grass greener on the other side? One may never know unless they travel over the great wall.
This short simple poem is encouraging and strong.
I like the storyline, but to be honest it is a little hard to read. the sentences seem to run on and the lines somewhat repeat themselves. injection, smoke, blood. finding the gun seemed sort of random in the middle of the tale, "enough to keep me alive." perhaps could be changed to use it in defense.. it isn't going to save you from the injection you have already received.. keep working on it looking forward to seeing more. thanks.
like the dialogue, something I'm having trouble in with my writing. Descriptions time and place come easy, but how do two people carry on a simple conversation? I thought you showed talent in the conversation between Melody and Caleb. I knew what was going on in the rest of the story based on their speaking. thank you for a job well done.
The fear is real, I can feel it through your writing. The visions dancing in my mind bring back my old childhood fears. My mom had a wighead I called Bikki. Bikki the witch haunted my dreams. Mom put her away into a drawer but I found her later, she was back to get me..
In your poem I can see the room, feel the warmth of the bed and the safety net of the covers, but knowing that If I got out of the bed the demons would get me
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