20 Lines A Day

A Community of Writers and Photographers


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Switches

Identification never asked to be connection

never claimed such an occupation

 

Identification casts off synonyms, hyperbole

predicative nominative 

lost its copula

threw away stative verbs

 

Instead comes to prevent missed connections

correct misconnections

prays for disconnect

to find peace

* * *

Response wakes up

calls call

gets no answer

 

Switches from monologue

to soliloquy 

 


6 Comments

Stones

I have always related to stones, thought that somehow, in the kingdom of things, they speak a language. Listen. Listen hard. You’ll hear the water burble over them, the children’s laughter as they toss them here or there.

And look. See those colors, shapes, the veins? What stories might they tell? Where have they been and what might they have housed? How old are they?

Along the beach I pick up little stones, and big ones too, you know, those angular stones, gray usually, with holes and bumps, which I think are bruises from their journeys.

Kind of like us….we have holes in us, sometimes in our hearts, and bruises? Oh, for sure. Where are your bruises? I know where mine are. A stone is hard, yet water has given it a sheen, a coating, a shine on rainy days. When sun beams down upon a stone it seems to smile.

Me too. Hard. Yep, there are places that haven’t been softened yet, but I know that the “sun and water” of my life will touch and change them.

Pick up a stone. Imagine the conversation.


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Oration (a rispetto)

 

Who dares to mygle on the lart
whence the bartolodogs do prey,
crimming their crimley woos and snart
and from whence the satelines blay?

If only mighty danderspite
would cease the wootmas and debite.
Strike the spintler netherchrism.
Banish all foul maskered slism!

Melissa I. Hassard

 

(And oh, yes, it is political.  Heh.  M.)

Rispetto à la Carroll, with a nod to friend Richard Krawiec for the conversation that brought to mind The Jabberwocky.


2 Comments

New Toy

J’ai tellement amusement avec ce traducteur que je vais jouer avec elle un peu plus, cette fois en français. J’adore les français langue, il étudie au Collège, mais mes compétences a perdu parce que je n’avais pas la possibilité de les utiliser.

Je pense qu’un voyage à Paris peut facilement remédier que !

I have basically said here:

I’m having so much fun with this translator that I’m going to play with it a little more, this time in French. I love the French language, studied it in college, but have lost my skills because I haven’t had the opportunity to use them.

I think a trip to Paris could remedy this!


1 Comment

At Ease

Words never came easy to me

now I drink these words with a gulping familiarity, a familiarity

that soothes my throat with pleasure

frees my throat from this steel prison of silence.

How easy it appears to my starving unsatisfied soul

to pick up this glass full of language, full of words

and feel it glide like a cool river through my esophagus.

The wild well of pained/buckets full

of crap, releases like a snap snap/surging

fluently to the surface

it reveals itself

as if it were always there, waiting

waiting to speak. How easy it appears

from time to time the steel snap snaps!

and there you are

free, familiarity; facing directly

surly you speak, words surely familiar rise,

soothing my throat with peace

how easy it comes to be - 

at ease.

© [Jeanette Shihadeh] and [thepainterspalate.wordpress.com], [2012]. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material, artwork, or photo’s without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to [Jeanette Shihadeh] and [thepainterspalate.wordpress.com] with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

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