Hey all….

…Look!

The Magpie is back at it.

For those who don’t already know, The Magpie is my amazingly talented and creative (if I do say so myself) daughter. While she has had the hand and eye of a True Artist quite literally since she was still in diapers….

…and her talent (and creativity and imagination) has grown nigh exponentially…

(just a small sampling of the depth and breadth of her work over the last few years)

…she has now made made the written word her main focus. She is currently eating, sleeping and breathing the writing life, morning, noon and night. It is the first thing she wants to do every day and we must force her to stop every night in order to get some unfortunately necessary rest. And she is doing all this while somehow still maintaining her visual art pursuits, interests in science, math, mythology and literature and high honors in school. Her dedication to this new endeavor puts my paltry efforts to shame.

I hope you’ll take a look at her Magpies Menagerie and see what she’s been up to and stick around to see what she has in store.

Hi again

(Am I being overly indulgent or proud? Can you blame me?)

Oh….Looky….

/\ UP there! /\

….It’s an “About Page”….

…Of Sorts….

….Finally….

….Sort of….

Pfft!

Hey all….

…I know I have been rather absent lately, but…well….life happened, but I’m doing my best to put a stop to that BS soon enough.

In the mean time, Ms. Magpie has been posting again and I know that it would give her a great creative boost if some of you lovely folks would pop over and see what she’s up to, so if you wouldn’t mind…..check it out….

https://magpiesmenagerie.wordpress.com

 

Thanks bunches–

NaPoWriMo, 2016, Day 5–soft violence

soft violence

the soft violence of the sword
that severs flesh from flesh

that steals stone from soil
or holes in awnings from

falling bullets, silent as they
settle to earth, as they come

to rest through this, the soft 
skull of the city in the dark

The city makes ghosts of itself, 7

(please click on image to enlarge)

So close, so far

Why is time a woman 
and man a death?

Why do we give one force a gender
and gender the other with force?

Will our willing gender upon them
lessen the bite of their skin upon ours?

Can a persona’s presence
soften the blow for even a moment

of the two things most impossibly
removed from our personhood?

Do the masks we put upon their 
faces hide their horrors from us?

Will these suppositions 
blow the wind of these days

out of the eyes of our
oldest and dearest friends,

our most constant companions, 
our dearest foes?

Will they leave us any longer by virtue 
of what does or does not dangle between their legs?