Category Archives: historical
WEP CHALLENGE, AUGUST 18-20, 2021, FREEDOM’S CALLING, CREATIVE NON-FICTION By Pat Garcia, @pat_garcia, #WEP, #amwriting, #writingchallenge
Freedom’s Calling Was there no mercy for a child of nine years who, unlike others, was brought up in a home that had spoken a different language than English? Black skin, nappy hair that a fine-tooth comb couldn’t even go through, the child’s place was to listen and obey, but what if she didn’t understand? …
Poem by an Unknown Soldier Written During WWII
Originally posted on Sarah's Bookshelf:
Today’s post is a little different. As Rememberance Sunday, I thought I should post something topical, something that will allow us to remember those who died, and what they fought for.? _________________________ Stay with me God, the night is dark! The night is cold; my little spark Of courage…
Monday Funnies with AUNTY ACID…
Morning Everyone, Aunty Acid is at it again. I love her wisdom on dealing with the obstacles of life, especially when you’re thrown a curve ball. So whatever life throws at you today, duck so it hits someone else. You don’t have to stand there and take it. You don’t have to start your week …
… dreams …
Originally posted on Course of Mirrors:
Photos by Ashen I used to host regular dream groups. We did not so much set out to analyse our dreams, but we played with them by engaging with their images, characters and objects. Sometimes we enacted scenes to widen associations and deepen our insights. While there is some…
… what is your bliss? …
Originally posted on Course of Mirrors:
My moments of bliss come out of the blue, when I glimpse something moving in a certain way, in a certain light, not ordinary light, but a mysterious light that shines through nature. Like the day after the sky was veiled by thick curtains of rain and next morning…
Its, A Mother’s Day Poem
Mouths starved.
Necks choked.
Shoulders bruised.
Torsos kicked.
These its,
These puny its have no voices.
My Viewpoint on Easter
Some people call him a harlot’s son; one of his grandmothers was a prostitute. Others say he wasn’t really completely Jewish; the Moabite tainted his bloodline. Who was this man that respected man’s will to choose; that reached out to the brokenhearted and healed the sick? What could have possessed him to be mocked, scorned, …
Hope
We enslave ourselves to traditions and become tragic victims of discontent. Our hearts yearn for a return to hope, a normalcy that we smother beneath our desires as we hurry along, Buying, Buying, And more buying, Under the deception of preparing for the Christmas feast of hope. We seek hope, in ourselves, in our politicians, …
Rise Up My Love. The Winter Is Past And Gone.
This time last year my legs were shaky, and I was swaddling around in uncertainties. Disappointed in the progress of my first book I was pondering over whether or not I had the stamina I needed to be the kind of writer that I desired to be. Rise up my love. The winter is over, …
Walk On 