All posts filed under: Strange Discoveries

Checking In

Originally posted on Parhelion:
By Rebecca Moon Ruark The osprey came back. They came back, like they do each Spring, to perch where they will, high above the marine yard, atop the athletic field light poles, and in the stern of an abandoned sailboat on the river. The osprey own that boat now; it will never again sail the Bay, but the osprey don’t care. I have secretly loathed my fish hawk neighbors, for their shrieking cries that wake me before five in the morning. But I’m happy for them now, happy they’re keeping to their seasonal schedule of migration and procreation. Social media is speculating how many people babies will come from COVID-19-induced isolation. I can’t say, but there will be osprey babies again next year, screeching things that will draw graceful arcs in the sky like their parents and grandparents, before. They will protect their own, hunt, eat, and probably never experience ennui. The osprey came back, as did the daffodils, which I once thought of as only cheap harbingers of tulips, my…

Storm – Radhika

Originally posted on FREE VERSE REVOLUTION:
The Raging Orchestra! Tar grey clouds conquer the horizon howling gales pick up momentum   thunderous rumbles lash out rains pound down with vengeance the enraged sea seethes ire unforgiving, it devours all in its fold  monstrous waves build up a crescendo the livid sea sings a tempestuous opera! ? ? The fabric of life is sewn together with myriad hues of threads. My words find a voice to my thoughts which brings out a tapestry of seamless weaves on life. I stitch together the many intriguing facets of life on my blog It is a potpourri of photographs, poetry, prose and reflections. Currently I am working on bringing out my first book of poetry. Image by Gerhard Bögner from Pixabay


Originally posted on mindlovemisery:
Life insists on patience but once I have arrived at a destination how can I be content to wait outside? ? My heart falters mid-air clips the rim of the wastebasket and falls to the floor with an unsettling squelch. She will leave a stain no doubt. But isn’t that what we all want to leave something behind when we are gone and haven’t the impulse to make anything new? ? I watch her sputter and turn. Everything hurts, your absence, my disenfranchised life, even the crescents at the ends of my fingertips from scraping so long at the same intractable walls. ? I am afraid of my life, afraid of my heart  because even on the outside she has a knack for drawing me in. The butterflies in my stomach are made of wire. They jab and tangle. They perforate my insides whenever they spread their amature wings. ? I don’t want to die voluntarily incarcerated. I don’t want to go another moment without knowing you. The road between us…

My Favourite (Chill) Fairy Tale Retellings

Originally posted on the orang-utan librarian:
Today, I just wanted to share a super quick list of some of my favourite atmospheric, fairy tale retellings. All of these deliver on the wintry vibes- without you having to the hassle of going outside 😉 The Snow Child– it’s been a long while since I mentioned this exquisite historical fiction. Set in 1920s Alaska, it draws on the Russian fairy tale by the same name and delivers something utterly unique. The Bear and the Nightingale– also inspired by Russian folklore, this has a more fantastical touch and is set in an authentically medieval setting. If you’re in the mood for high fantasy, then I can’t give you a better recommendation for the winter months. Wolf in the Whale– this is more inspired by a patchwork of different mythologies, stories and histories- which I think qualifies it to be on this list. Plus, it certainly delivers on the atmospheric quota- you’ll need to be nice and snug while you’re reading this, or you’ll catch a chill! To Kill…

delicate decay – L. Stevens

Originally posted on FREE VERSE REVOLUTION:
slept too long, mushrooms bloomed a delicate decay beetles danced in the gloom slept too long, mushrooms bloomed the celebration will be over soon faded with the light of day slept too long, mushrooms bloomed a delicate decay ? L. Stevens is an intj who loves learning about everything and filing it away for later. She finished second in little infinite’s first haiku contest and her poetry been featured by Pack Poetry and Free Verse Revolution. She writes short stories and poetry about the moon, darkness, and anything else lurking in the deep abyss of her imagination. Occasionally, rays of light shine through her work to contrast the shadows.

The Best on WordPress

Originally posted on The Other Stuff:
I bailed on two more books last week. Something’s up. Either I’ve already read all the good books my library has to offer, or I’ve become too picky. I can’t find anything to read. I work in that library. Not as a librarian, but as a finance manager. I do the accounting, the budgeting, I shepherd the annual audit. I hole myself away in my office at 7:15 every morning and barely move until 4:30. I spend my days alone. This schedule suits me. 7:15 may seem early, but my kids leave for school at 7:00, so we all walk out together. Plus, I’m the first one at work. I love walking into a dark, quiet building and flipping on only the lights I need to get to my office. I’m embraced and protected by my cocoon of illumination. I envision the morning commuters driving past my building and wondering who starts working so early at the library. It sounds like a long, lonely day, but it isn’t. I…

Lone Leaf – prikcab (Ian Perlman)

Originally posted on Go Dog Go Café:
? this cold bright morning has me following a lone leaf with crisped edges  scratching the pavement as it tumbles down the street ? has it lost its way  as autumn is chased away by winter’s winds I hope it finds a settling place and warmth in togetherness ? 11.30.19 (irp) #loneleaf #lookinginyourwindow Read more of prikcab (Ian Perlman) at ?

The Dark Apostle

Originally posted on Extraordinary Sunshine Weaver:
Rising from the coals And shadows of flames, Dressed in deep void With eyes like portals To the dense bramble Of your obscure lives, I am your companion. There is passion in your fear that This blood fire is your last sunset. You smolder in my breath, and I thrive on your muffled screams. I hold you down as you writhe in agony, Locked under my gaze. My breath is odious; My face, repugnant. My laughter, the cackling of fire. You recoil, gasping for prayer, But little do you know, I am the answer you seek, For so long you have hidden Inside this clay façade. Living for self in idle pleasure, Slumbering like the dead in this carcass With no clear path to truth Beyond mindless habit and desire. Open your eyes! Can you not see! You rebuke this Demon, but I am the Harbinger sent to alarm and awaken. Look at the Foe who will crack open your heart! If you don’t do it, I must smash…

The Face in the Water – Basilike Pappa

Originally posted on FREE VERSE REVOLUTION:
I am a lake. I lay myself in the heart of this land where the snow falls soft, the rain sings gray, and the dark is trimmed with the song of the nightingale. I am smooth in serenity or ripple in mirth. The world around is mirrored in me – the traveling clouds, the austerity of the woods, the hills, and on one of them a castle of gleaming stone. I am water, that out of which everything is born. I have a million memories. ? She was a queen – tall and sinuous, with black eyes, opal skin and a voice sweet like deceit. She touched me and smiled at the way droplets hung from her fingertips like liquid diamonds. She looked into me, saw her face, and said: ‘How beautiful I am! Surely this lake hasn’t seen a face like mine. Nor should it ever see.’ I rippled in laughter and distorted her image. But she had the phases of the moon under her tongue and the…