Quoted in the Grove: (reprised from archives)
We think caged birds sing, when indeed they cry. ~John Webster
Deep within the soul of the lonely caged bird
Beats the rhythm of a distant forest
Etched upon its broken heart
The faded memory of flight.
~Ginni Bly
If only I could so live and so serve the world that after me there should never again be birds in cages. ~Isak Dinesen
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Posted from the Grove:
Prewritten for Thurs (12/27) 5 pm Pacific/8 Eastern is: gift, tidings
A busy week, so this abbreviated edition of the Post & Review. One pleasure not to be missed is welcoming new members, so we happily welcome: xxxcometxxx, Mary Christmas, Martha Christmas and debzone. Readers are always welcome, but we are especially happy when new writers join in when they join. We hope to hear more from each of you
A reminder: Next week’s Post & Review will contain the theme for Wordgrove’s writing contest for the Wordgrove Prize. It is a single word theme. Those entering will have two weeks before dropping submissions begins, three weeks before voting begins on Sun (1/20/13), polls close at midnight, Mon (1/31)
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@Writers Platform
Library Table:
~Stejovis: The Night They Raided Min Ho’s
Misadventure as burlesque
~Greenie: A’Glow
After the sun sets into dusk and the ending of light, the beginning sounds of evening, the start of a Southern breeze, the bugs weaving light fly contrapuntally to the emerging stars of night; as written by one who sees, who pays attention to the moment
~
Prewritten: ballerina, heartbreak
~Stejovis: Ballet Shoes
The exquisite torture of anticipation and eXCiTeMenT of a six year old who needs (please? please?) her shoes for the performance before Christmas, and … and … she’s dead. What?! Can’t be! She can’t be! Gun shots, and empty shoes for Christmas
~
Impromptu: fire, silk
~Stejovis: two haiku and two tanka
Silk has the feel of transparency to fingers as they flicker over fevered flesh, there’s a sizzle, then the flash of hot desire; silk clings like a flame to skin, floating above it, rippling with naked color; ingredients ignite and it burns, a confession
~Piffin: .Cannibal Nights.
The short conscious journey to extinction and demise; the warring brain that kills the soldier prods the genius; is death today, what words to leave, and how to prepare?
~whitefeather: Fire / silk (haiku #2* )
Among his play things
Shadows dance in the moonlight
Her state of unpantiedness
*Quoted. How neologisms answer a need; you saw it first in Wordgrove
~BarTalk: 1+1=2
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Writers in Residence: No new work to review
Wordgrove’s focus narrows briefly and directs its attention to the upcoming writing contest. Nutters, friends of Nutters, members of other clubs and residents of There are all encouraged to enter. Nutters should have writing time penciled in on their calendar for the month of January, an excellent way to begin the year. Until Writers in Residence resumes at contest’s end, this space will be given to news, encouragement and comments at appropriate stages of the contest. Next week it begins
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