It's all over the news, bad news.
It comes and goes in heavy waves, and
your aunt has cancer.
It seems lately that all you do is lose
yourself, always seeing graves because
it's all over the news. Bad news:
this year is still ongoing. It's true
it feels unstoppable, and by the way
your aunt has cancer—
a snake-noose tightening grooves
into her neck and throat, giving it
its all. Over the news, bad news,
you have coffee and chatter moodily—
because what else can you do when told
your aunt has cancer—
Stare silent at the menus, choose
the easiest meal to stomach, because
it's all over. The news, bad news:
your aunt has ca
in a room dressed in their sunday best
i was glad for the styrofoam plate
it kept the soggy casserole
served by neighbors bustling in our kitchen
from soaking thru onto fingers and thighs
as we mingled in the front parlour
it didn't collapse under the piles
of aunt paula's tuna surprise
or aunt betty's ambrosia fruit salad
that's the one with the little marshmallows
the styrofoam plate remained unbent
as small talk and murmurs
swirled around the room
and face after face passed in front of me
the styrofoam plate let me shake hands
and offer one armed hugs
i didnt mind their tear stained cheeks
but if one more person says to me
"let me know
i thought i had grief down to an art:
throw the ashes to the wind,
catch them in your mouth,
and move on
but i can't work through this
as if it were a checklist
loss is not linear,
a recipe reading:
simmer in sorrow, sadness, anger
until it is reduced by half,
a glaze of grief
at the bottom of the pan
my doctor can keep
his Kubler-Ross model,
give her five stages
another five years
because i am not finished
tearing at my shirt,
painting mascara Roschorch
on my pillowcase,
letting my blood
of the oxygen we both breathed
i hear the respirators
when the rest of the house is asleep
your funeral flowers still
hang in the rafters of the at
I read a book that reminded me of you,
of all the complicated words you used to use,
how definitions fled your mind but synonyms were so profuse.
I read a thesaurus and every word was you.
Changing The Game Of Storytelling by techgnotic, journal
Changing The Game Of Storytelling
Archive
“The” Is A
Universal Story
`eawood (https://www.deviantart.com/eawood) eawood (https://www.deviantart.com/eawood)
:iconkilkennycat: kilkennycat (https://www.deviantart.com/kilkennycat)
Writing the Story About Flying
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In fiction writing, clarity is king
It is, among other things, why almost everyone knows of Ernest Hemingway. It’s also why we love this one-word short story from inknalcohol (https://www.deviantart.com/inknalcohol). It’s so straightforward and unambiguous, but at the same time it manages to say so much.
One Word Story
by inknalcohol (https://www.deviantart.com/inknalcohol)
The.
“The” is a universal story.
We can all relate to the protagonist because each of us is the protagonist. We fill the gaps
devNEWS Interview Series #3 GrimFace242 by WDWParksGal, journal
devNEWS Interview Series #3 GrimFace242
%DevNews (https://www.deviantart.com/devnews) DevNews (https://www.deviantart.com/devnews) :icondevnews:
:icongrimface242: inknalcohol (https://www.deviantart.com/inknalcohol)
DevNews (https://www.deviantart.com/devnews) Interview Series #3 ~ Today we welcome inknalcohol (https://www.deviantart.com/inknalcohol) one of the Community Volunteers for the Literature gallery, a Senior Mentor and admin to eleven groups! Take a seat, have a toasty beverage to take away the winter chill (or frosty beverage in warmer climates!) and prepare to be entertained.
:bigthumb503734186:
Q~1: You're nearing five-years on deviantART. What brought you to the site?
That makes me feel old. I remember joining and being lost because I had no idea where to start. I was actually forced into joining by my cousin. She was like that. Always m
I don't believe in beliefs;
I believe in cycles instead
to toss and turn into wisdom,
live and learn from, until then:
everything is a learning experience
and comes with a subtext that
if I can get through this,
it won't be forever.
When the lyrics of my favorite songs
won't let me get some dream sleep
I feel comfortable with the beats
in my head syncopating my heart
that someone might compliment,
I like your rhythm.
When the beat drops,
And when it drops off,
I will listen for the melody
of the memory, remembering
it doesn't matter to me if others
can hear the happiness.
It's all inside me and
I'll still be me without
outward music.
I b