Reed in a frozen pond

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Lance Sheridan

Snow comes sifting down, layer after layer
To the bower of this reedy pond.
Overhead, the umbrella of winter
A chastely figure, augured in white lines,
Covers the clapboard grasses.

The wind stiffens into place over ice,
How its voice howls, how it blots up
The bones of water, shadows of fish;
Its black bunched fingers tug at me-
For a warmth, I seek the frog-mouth liquor.

I become a blunt, clumsy stumbler,
So slow against all that numbing;
I sink into a caul of forgetfulness,
Drowsy in a cold womb,
Slow effacement at the snow’s hand.

Winter’s mid-wife slaps my footsoles,
My nakedness is mirrored on frozen pond,
I wake to listen: Spring whispers in my ear-
I am a new statue in thawing air; the window
Square of warmth brightens, swallows the cold.

reedinafrozenpond

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#Writing #Music for the #FirstChapter in your #NewAdventure: @HansZimmer, #DavidHirschfelder, @Junkie_XL, & #StephenFlaherty

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Great Read 🙏❤❤

Jean Lee's World

Gosh, did I score on music this winter.

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Sure, there’s some sweet Christmas music in there (Yay, more Alan Silvestri!) but also plenty of fantasy and adventure, too. It’s the sort of gathering that makes me eager to close my invites me to hide from my kids for a few minutes with headphones, a chance to close my eyes and explore the possibilities…

…but which way do I go?

It’s a crossroads moment, to be sure. Maybe I need to be like Anastasia, and wait for a sign, like a magically house-trained dog covered in Don Bluth cuteness.

Whenever I feel tired of writing, this song makes me excited to get back into it again. There’s adventure in the mind, hidden deep in trees born of words and dreams. One just needs to take that first step in to see.

Perhaps that first step transports you into the…

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Hidebound Hump Day — Cornelis Drebbel 28

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All aboard ❤❤🙏

Teagan's Books

Wednesday, January 30, 2019

Purple lake with tree and mountainsKen Cheung, Unsplash

Hello, my chuckaboos!  It’s Hidebound Hump Day.  I’ve mentioned that originally, in 2015, this #steampunk story was also a culinary mystery.   I really miss the cooking bloggers who followed it back then.  This chapter reminded me of them.  Sometimes rerunning episodes of this serial can be rather bittersweet. 

Cornelis Drebbel’s magical submarine is at our port.  The klaxon sounds as the vessel rises to the surface, and we’re ready for another chapter of Copper, the Alchemist, and the Woman in Trousers! 

Previously with Copper, the Alchemist, and the Woman in Trousers

Chapter 27  “It’s an amethyst world!” Copper exclaimed when she saw the strange place where the magically whirling submarine went aground.

A purple ape wearing a three piece suit with a starched collar and a bowler hat came into view.  It seems strange to say, but the hat and…

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Chewing on the grey moon

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Lance Sheridan

This is a dark street, very big.
It has many cellars;
I stand in a quiet corner under a doorstep,
I must make more children.

A policeman stands in his shell
Bent under a bundle of crime,
His teeth are chattering like a poor leper’s.
He also is in the moon’s ball.

I am aware of an absence, presently,
Growing inside me, chalked-handed,
My belly does not move;
I eat my way to a fat sort,
Food smells in a potted chamber.

Here is a cuddly mother.
Little humble love though;
It is warm and tolerable
In the bowel of birth;
A stony hole. He is to blame.

I find no face but my own,
It is good for me,
For thirty years, poor and white.
I tried praying for forgiveness,
But God chuffed me off like a non-believer.

The child in the white crib revolves and cries,
His little…

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Citizen Sade

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cakeordeathsite

de_sade1 Imaginary Portrait of D.A.F Sade-Man Ray 1936

In 1789 the Marquis De Sade was one of eight prisoners held in the state prison of Bastille.For a number of years he had been detainedunderlettres de cachet, a system were the King could imprison a subject without trial and without the opportunity of appeal.Lettres de cachet were one of the most hated features of theancien regime, as it was open to a wide variety of abuses, notably the possible life-long detainment of embarrassing family members by wealthy and noble petitioners.

On the morning of July 2, the Marquis was in a highly excitable state and nervously paced the confines of his cell. His wife had told him about the chaos on the streets of Paris.The Marquis had noticed the stepping up of military preparations within the fortress. At noon his warden came to tell the Marquis that…

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Pierre’s Duel with Dolokhov

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A Russian Affair

fullsizeoutput_93It is one of the most memorable scenes in War and Peace: the duel between Pierre and Dolokhov. Tolstoy builds up the tension steadily. The scene is told from Pierre’s perspective, so that the reader really feels Pierre’s hurt feelings and damaged pride from a front row position.

Hélène

Pierre had married Hélène against his better knowledge. He knew that there was something strange about her, he had heard something about her improper relationship with her brother Anatole, but still he married her. It doesn’t take long for Hélène to show her true nature, but for now Pierre ignores his problems.

Rumours

Even when there are rumours going around that Hélène has an affair with Dolokhov, his friend who he has offered a place to stay, has lent money and knows only too well, he does not want to believe them. Bottled up feelings, however, have the nasty…

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THE MEMORY COLLECTOR

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- MIKE STEEDEN -

lily sized

Since Dawn of Time’s first chilly mists were devoured by a greedy, rampant Orange I have been collecting the apt recollections of those poor wretched souls about to lose their minds to the unforgiving void.  By preserving such memories I ensure that upon departure at least a snippet of the mort being is not lost to the nothingness.

Mostly, there is little of note to gather up. Just random details of new-borns, love lost, torn petticoats and fine sand between toes, yet every so often as I gather up such memories I unearth a golden nugget.  Such was the case with Lily. She was Parisian insofar as I was aware, of advanced years and was cursed with a wilting mind when we met. By then she had become a bedbound glorified wizened carcass in a spick and span care home within the Quartier des Invalides.

Before the war a then…

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