Friday, April 18, 2014

Beta Readers!!

I'm looking for a few beta readers for my sequel to "Whispers of the Dead":

So not a cover reveal! My cover artist is so much better!!

In order to qualify, you must be:

- familiar with Zoe's world and have read "Whispers of the Dead",
- able to read and comment within 48 hours of each chapter I drop,
- on Facebook, as the group for beta reads is set up there, and
-  professional. I can take constructive criticism, but I will not tolerate stupidity.

Still interested? Send me a message on my author page on Facebook and I will add you.

I'm looking forward to the exchange!

Monday, April 7, 2014

07: Heartstrings

for Cameron

It's not easy being green,
or blue for that matter,
as if you chose your life
and all the little pieces inside,
that sometimes, just sometimes,
cause you to stumble
right where you stand.

How can you see
the path laid out for you
when there are oh so many
whispering voices
begging for your attention,
slipping into dreamscapes
until you must face them.

But face them you must,
and demand that they be quiet!
or at least less loud, please
until you can find your feet again
to run free into your happiness
and only hear your special melody
played lovingly across your heartstrings.


Sunday, April 6, 2014

06: Tickle

There is a tickle in my head
that rambles on and on
about the things I'd done
once upon a time
and the dreams I've dreamt
that I cannot possibly do.

Sometimes I rub a little hope
like an herbal salve
atop of the curvature
of my pitter-pattering heart
to quiet the voices
whispering in my head.

But sometimes nothing works,
there is no solution,
no remedy to be had,
and the voice becomes a choir
a million pieces of thought
filling the harmony of my life.

And I am left trapped,
hostage to my own fears,
until I can find a way out again.

Saturday, April 5, 2014

05: Space Between

in the space between my thoughts
there is just a moment of pause
so filled with electrical stuffs
waiting for connection
that it may pass into being
and be pressed against its destiny
along the wallpaper of my soul

Friday, April 4, 2014

04: Anticipation

I have trouble connecting,
always torn between
being worthy and finding worth
in reaching out into a world
that has too often
bitten instead of bussed,
tired of the bumps and bruises,
the disappointing ends
to such promising beginnings.

I realize part of that is me,
my naivete that I am the exception
to the game I've watched play out
with those who have stepped in
just moments before me,
the explosive crash and burn,
and yet here I go into the fray,
surprised that I am not
somehow fireproof.

So this thing in front of me,
this new and different opportunity,
leaves me breathless and wanting,
but painfully aware of possibilities
that scream of the shattered pieces
that will remain to be picked up,
because I thought I was special,

instead of being left behind
by people who promised more.

But I want to be wanted,
and I wait as the details fall into place,
addicted already to the anticipation
of everything that can come.

Thursday, April 3, 2014

03: Breathe

It feels like a rollercoaster,
though my feet remain firmly planted
in the lingering fear and doubt
I cannot seem to brush off. 

I reach without grasping,
as if treading water amidst the air,
flailing, gasping at nothingness,
weary from the mental exercise.

Then you appear and touch me,
fingertips warm against my skin, 
the world slowing around me, 
giving me a chance to step off.

And I can breathe again.

Wednesday, April 2, 2014

02: Morpheus, Come Love Me

O' Darkest Prince,
why have you forsaken me?
What wrong have I done unto thee
to deny me the sweet succor of your embrace?

I long for the days before,
when we lay tangled in the sheets,
a halo of warmth and breath,
delicate whispers of contentment.

My nights are now ever empty,
as I seek you out in desperation,
to convince you that I am worthy
to find my place in your arms again.

Return to me, nocturnal beloved,
come back and fill me with bliss
that I may awaken from our rendevous
well-rested and ready until we can meet again.

Tuesday, April 1, 2014

01: Little Things

We speak of food stuffs,
of stuffed lovies,
of love for dirt and seeds,
my words filling him
with wonderment,
as his wonder fills me
with peace.

It's NPM!!

Ahem, National Poetry Month, for those of you less versed.

*LOL* I'm so punny.

So what does that mean here at the FlyPages? Poetry time!! One a day for the whole month! Now, ladies and gents, I'm not promising Illiads or Odysseys. There may even be a haiku or two (bless you!). And I can guarantee there will be very little rhyme (though I do insist on a rhythm).

Here's to making you smile. Laugh. Maybe even blush.

Let the poetic Olympics begin!