Tuesday, October 31, 2017

A huge thank you to Editor Stacy Lynn Reynolds of Our Poetry Archive for publishing three of my poems today.





https://ourpoetryarchive.blogspot.com

Sunday, October 29, 2017

A huge thank you to Editor Raja Williams of Creative Talents Unleashed for today publishing 'Sanctuary.'


http://creativetalentsunleashed.com


Featured Writer: Linda Imbler 






Sanctuary


The man under the hoodie
once had dreams,
heard the clear, apparent,
lilt of children’s voices.
Then the liquid veil
came down,
obscuring and confusing.
Such songs now too distant.
They lie too far across the aural chasm.
His hood- a dome,
all he owns and is
and ever hopes or wants to be,
found here.
His sanctuary,
our acceptance.

© Linda Imbler

SONY DSCAbout the Author
Linda Imbler is the author of the published poetry collection “Big Questions, Little Sleep.”  Her work has appeared in numerous journals. Linda’s creative process and a current, complete listing of sites which have or will publish her work can be found  at lindaspoetryblog.blogspot.com.  This writer, yoga practitioner, and classical guitar player lives in Wichita, Kansas.



Creating "Sanctuary"

Understanding is not necessarily the key to acceptance.  It can also be the key to lending real assistance.  'Sanctuary' inspired by the song "This Night" by Black Lab.

Afterthoughts for "Sanctuary"


Understand who you are, so that you can be the same, whether you're talking to a homeless person or the president of the United States. You're the same person.



Ensanguining the skies, How heavily it dies, Into the west away; Past touch and sight and sound, Not further to be found, How hopeless under ground, Falls the remorseful day

Alfred Edward Houseman


I've been immersed in it too long. My spirit is wobbly and my mind is confused. The hurt has become too great.

Friday, October 27, 2017



Published by Editor Joseph Osel in The Commonline Journal, Issue #37.  Thank you, Joseph.








Victorious


Find your moment of courage,
wretchedness will help no one.
Find valor on your feet,
not fear.
Be not cowardly,
nor surrender,
nor be of disuse.
Begin when the sky is darkest,
when the road looks the longest.
Step forth, don’t lose heart.
Indeed,
having it in your throat already defeats you.

Creating "Victorious"

If you have never stood your ground on what you know is right, this is a great day for that first step.


Afterthoughts for "Victorious"

Work hard for what you want because it won't come to you without a fight. You have to be strong and courageous and know that you can do anything you put your mind to. If somebody puts you down or criticizes you, just keep on believing in yourself and turn it into something positive. 

Leah LaBelle

Human beings are born solitary, but everywhere they are in chains - daisy chains - of interactivity. Social actions are makeshift forms, often courageous, sometimes ridiculous, always strange. And in a way, every social action is a negotiation, a compromise between 'his,' 'her' or 'their' wish and yours. 
Andy Warhol
Courageous people do not fear forgiving, for the sake of peace. 
Nelson Mandela




Published by Joseph Osel in The Commonline Journal, Issue #37.  Thank you, Joseph.










Storm

He hears,
Raging,
Howling,
Thunderous bellowing.
He feels,
Slamming,
Wet,
Splashing,
On eyes and face.
He sees,
Bright lights
Flashing behind his eyes,
Sudden darkness.
The sound of sirens,
Screaming.
He awakens in an ambulance,
Remembers the savage beating
He endured
At the hands of an abusive father

When the storm came.

Creating "Storm"

Males are less likely to report abuse.  Sometimes, though, they have no choice but to seek help.

Afterthoughts for "Storm"

One who is injured ought not to return the injury, for on no account can it be right to do an injustice; and it is not right to return an injury, or to do evil to any man, however much we have suffered from him.


The most loving parents and relatives commit murder with smiles on their faces. They force us to destroy the person we really are: a subtle kind of murder.

Jim Morrison 

This will be our reply to violence: to make music more intensely, more beautifully, more devotedly than ever before.

A big thank you to Editor Sandy Benitez of Black Poppy Review for publishing my poem 'Memory' today.

http://blackpoppyreview.blogspot.com






Friday, October 27, 2017



Memory by Linda Imbler

Like a queen sitting on her throne,
commanding armies,
this disease commands me to forget.

He was there, the old man at the door
something about him seemed-
right.

His name escapes me as does my own.
I am someone caught in a war
between what I know and don’t,
a wounded casualty.

I fight to recall those who visit,
but my thoughts flee;
also there's that strange young woman
with golden hair, she calls me mother,
that must mean we're the same age.

If only I could win my memory,
the war could end, peace could come to me.


Creating "Memory"

Having watched the pain of those who experienced the loss of their loved ones through this horrible disease and watching the victims realize their plight and be helpless to stop it, I took time to listen.  This poem is what I learned.


Afterthoughts for "Memory"

If you don't have imagination, you stop being human; animals don't have imagination; Alzheimer's is the death of imagination.


I hate Alzheimer's. It is one of the most awful things because, here is a loved one, this is the woman or man that you have loved for 20, 30, 40 years, and suddenly, that person is gone. They're gone. They are gone.


I don't know why Alzheimer's was allowed to steal so much of my father before releasing him into the arms of death. But I know that at his last moment, when he opened his eyes, eyes that had not opened for many, many days, and looked at my mother, he showed us that neither disease nor death can conquer love.


Monday, October 23, 2017


Thank you to Editor Duane Vorhees of Duane's Poetree for
publishing "In Need of Company."


http://duanespoetree.blogspot.com







In Need of Company

Don't worry about me. 
I don't need company. 
I’ve a world filled with dreams and images, 
friends and good books. 

It may seem that I'm alone  
within this private zone, 
yet I have all things my heart desires 
to fill my days. 

But if you wish to help, 
then make my wish be felt.
Find someone without dreams or friends or hope - 
fix that for them. 

What a grand miracle.
Three lives now bearable,
such a large count at the end of all things.

We’ll change the world. 

Creating "In Need of Company"

We've all felt lonely at times.  The lucky ones' loneliness is temporary.  The last four lines speak for themselves.


Afterthoughts for "In Need of Company"


Great men are like eagles, and build their nest on some lofty solitude. 


Arthur Schopenhauer


The weight of the world is love. Under the burden of solitude, under the burden of dissatisfaction. 


Allen Ginsberg



Your inner voice is the voice of divinity. To hear it, we need to be in solitude, even in crowded places. 


A. R. Rahman


A POEM LOOKING FOR A HOME







Extract from "Grave"


Grave

"There's something wrong with your grave.
There’s not the wrong kind of grass covering you

nor an incorrect variety of flowers growing atop."

Friday, October 20, 2017

Thank you so very much to Editor and Poet Sourav Sarkar
for publishing "True Greetings" in the very beautiful e-book 'World Book of PoetryII (Peace Edition.)' There are poems from poets in 8 different countries included.  It is available from Pothi.com.






Thursday, October 19, 2017




Thank you so very much to Editor Glory Sasikala for publishing my poem "Blood" in this month's issue of GloMag.  There's a lot of really good writing in here when you get the chance to read it.










Blood


I have always been proud
of my distinguished benefit to this Earth, 

Yet, at times, 
my portrayal is less than benevolent. 

My most precious essence- 
as red as cherries, apples, Oklahoma dust, 
spilled in the street for the price of territory. 

Frozen by horrors of truthful revelation, 
thickened by cold, boiled by outrage.

Or depict me as the moon’s command over ladies, 
offering womanhood, granting new life. 

Some believe one shed me to deliver this world. 
Lifetime loyalties have been sworn in my name. 



See me as you will.



Creating "Blood"

There are inummerable references to blood throughout the Arts.  I addressed a few references.  I'm sure I missed many more.


Afterthoughts for "Blood"

God is dead. God remains dead. And we have killed him. Yet his shadow still looms. How shall we comfort ourselves, the murderers of all murderers? What was holiest and mightiest of all that the world has yet owned has bled to death under our knives; who will wipe this blood off us? What water is there for us to clean ourselves? 

Friedrich Nietzsche


The best blood will at some time get into a fool or a mosquito. 

Benito Mussolini


Make no little plans; they have no magic to stir men's blood and probably themselves will not be realized. 
Daniel Burnham

Thank you so much to Editor Rajnish Mishra for publishing my poem is his awesome e-zine.


https://poetrypoeticspleasureezine.wordpress.com/2017/10/19/ppp-ezine-vol-1-issue-5-october-2017/



Déjà vu
The sensation of returning,
To a place you’ve never been,
Runs cold in your veins.
What clues still lie in wait,
You help remind you,
Of when you had been here,
And what you had done whilst?

Such a common, human experience,
Unexplained.
A slippage of the mind?
Or in the fabric of the cosmos?
Too prevalent to be coincidence,
But its purpose still left unfolded.
A call back or forward?
If so, to where?
We do not know,
For now.


Creating "Déjà vu"

It's such an interesting sensation.  I just had to write about it.


Afterthoughts for "Déjà vu"


Deja Vu is the mind's way of letting you know that you are in the right place at the right time.

Anonymous

This is like deja vu all over again.



What if Deja Vu meant you lost a life and you are starting back off at your last checkpoint.

Anonymous now.

As Halloween approaches, here's something a little spooky.

Editor Adam Henry Carriére of DM du jour and Danse Macabre published this short story in April, 2016.  Merci beaucoup, mon ami.


https://dmdujour.wordpress.com

Linda Imbler ~ Dead of Night

While strolling late one night as insomniacs sometimes do, I had a most terrifying and perplexing experience. As I rounded the corner of some hedges, I caught sight of one of my dearest friends, caught in lamplight, some yards away ahead of me. As I opened my mouth to call to her, she suddenly yelled, hugged herself tightly and dropped to the concrete. Before I could take a single step toward her, something landed on the ground next to her.
I heard it speak in a soft, silky voice that seduces, makes you feel safe and warm, reels you in..… “I’m glad to find you here at this time. You see, I must stay out of the light. I only come out at night when evil roams.” It bent quickly over my friend and covered her body with its wings.
Then it rose and as I stood immobilized, it looked at me. I could see the wings, the long nails, flowing hair and tail of a beast. And the eyes, oh yes, the eyes, burning eyes that grip and hold one spellbound. My throat went dry. It remained, silently, and I continued to be frozen with fright. Then, with the strongest effort, I tore my eyes away. I felt a surge of strength in my legs. I fled.
At once, a shadow fell over me. I felt the air from beating wings bearing down, but the shadow passed.
I knew then, I knew what had accosted my friend. What pursues those who are lost, who are helpless: Abchanchu, Upyr, Vampyre.
Somewhat recovering my senses, I realize how much I feared for my friend. I was also recovering some of my courage, I returned to the site where she had fallen. Perhaps some help could be found for her before she became ——-
But strangely, there were no marks upon her neck, she was neither pale nor gaunt. She was slightly stirring. Using my phone, I called for help, emergency came. I made no mention of that supernatural observance.
One week to the day, she and I sat in a diner talking about many things. Suddenly, she told me that after her heart attack felled her, she had a strange dream. Something came, and breathed new life into her as hers was being spent.
At home that night, I thought about what she had said. Could it really have been?
Meanwhile, on the edge of forever, God looked and smiled upon one of his own. “You did well last week, Leliel, you did very well indeed.”

Creating "Dead of Night"

A new look at vampire stories.


Afterthoughts for "Dead of Night"

Night is a time of rigor, but also of mercy. There are truths which one can only see when it's dark.

Isaac Bashevis Singer
Teibele and Her Demon

What hath night to do with sleep?
John Milton, Paradise Lost
The night is the hardest time to be alive and 4 a.m. knows all my secrets.
Poppy Z. Brite