Dazzled
Found poem source: Gilbert, Elizabeth, Big Magic , Page 76 Continue reading Dazzled
Author: Charlotte Hamrick
Charlotte Hamrick’s creative writing and photographs have been published in a number of literary journals and anthologies. Her debut prose chapbook, Offset Melodies, is included in Grieving Hope (ELJ Editions), a collection of five microchaps. She is Managing Editor for Reckon Review.
Let Go
“Learning to let go should be learned before learning to get. Life should be touched, not strangled. You’ve got to relax, let it happen at times, and let others move forward with it.” ~Ray Bradbury Magnolia photo by me. Continue reading Let Go
9 Years 8 Months
You sat at the back of the room like a glacier, non-moving, non-blinking, arms crossed over your chest. I chattered on, ignoring you but sneaking a side-eye now and then. Thousands of days have passed, this thing moved way past estrangement into forever-gone land long ago. But you reappeared, hovering like fog over shifting ground until you finally walked over, handed me a letter,disappeared again. Fog. The first sentence read, I was sober for 9 years, 8 months. Now I’m not. I don’t know what to do with this, this unsettling psychic information. That’s the thing about dreams, where does … Continue reading 9 Years 8 Months
Listening
“we are listening through the longest night we imagine, which dawns between the life and time of stars.” ~ exerpt from We Are Listening by Diane Ackerman Read or listen to this beautiful poem here. Sculpture by Enrique Alferez in the New Orleans Botanical Garden, April 2017 Continue reading Listening
Your Slate is not Clean
and it never will be. That’s something people tell themselves to feel better about the crappy things they’ve done in life. The repeated mistakes, the thoughtless remarks, the pillage wreaked in another persons life. We say, “that’s in the past, I’ve changed”. But here’s the thing. The slate should never be cleaned because we need to own our mistakes. They’re what makes us human, what makes us grow. Our chalked-marked slates are part of us, our past make us who we are today. So throw away that eraser. Continue reading Your Slate is not Clean
Four Poems in Atomic Theory
I currently have four poems up at Atomic Theory Micro Press. Atomic Theory is the brainchild of Loren Moreno andd Nicole Cuffy who want to create a venue for emerging or unpublished writers, specializing in hand-crafted chapbooks. In addition to publishing chapbooks they will also publish poems and short prose on the site. Loren and Nicole have some serious writing cred and I’m confident this new venture will be a success. Big thanks to them both for choosing my work to be a part of their inaugural issue. Go read now! 😄 Continue reading Four Poems in Atomic Theory
Mother’s Day Coming. Again.
My emotions are mixed about Mother’s Day, not being a mother myself doesn’t bother me. I’m used to the automatic happy greeting from store clerks and strangers, I just smile and say thank you. (After all, I am mamma to my pets.) But there are plenty of childless women who feel a knife twist in their wombs when they hear that automatic greeting. Other women bristle at the thought that a mere pet makes one a mamma. On one hand, I think some people take the greeting too seriously but, on the other, I think these women have a right … Continue reading Mother’s Day Coming. Again.
NaPoWriMo 30/30: Because This is Life
Every morning we’re all still here. Well, most of us. We’ve survived the unknowable night when anything can happen and often does. It used to be monsters in the closet or under the bed, now they’re our bosses, our elected officials, even our neighbors and they prowl the day as well as the night. The news du jour catches us up on the past eight hours, the latest mass killing, the newest snafu in congress, the highest threat to humankind, while a tornado or snowstorm has devastated thousands. But still. We get up and move forward. Eat breakfast with our … Continue reading NaPoWriMo 30/30: Because This is Life
NaPoWriMo 29/30: Thyme in My Pocket
Thyme in my Pocket (After Lucille Clifton) I tucked a sprig of thyme in my pocket for courage, thinking about how it grows in the mountains between rocks in poor soil. I was climbing my own mountain, feet buried in poor soil to my knees. The Romans burned thyme as incense and bathed in its fragrant waters before battle. I rubbed the sprig between my fingers, absorbing its oil to assist me in battle for a new life. *** Prompt via napowrimo.net: “Today, I’d like to challenge you to take one of your favorite poems and find a very specific, … Continue reading NaPoWriMo 29/30: Thyme in My Pocket
NaPoWriMo 28/30: Drained
Ran out of steam Slid off the sunbeam Curdled the cream Lost the dream Thought I could Turned into dead wood *** Prompt via NaPoWriMo.net: Write a poem using Skeltonic verse. This is how I was feeling about NaPoWriMo this morning, lol. Two more days! (Although I believe I have one make up poem to write. Have to check on that.) Continue reading NaPoWriMo 28/30: Drained
