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Lost entire piece and title but somehow undid all the damage? I dunno how.. won't question.. wouldn't be prudent! No one is as surprised as I was.. Some how lost piece somehow undid? Wha hoo.. Now only hope my laptop forgives me for hitting it! I do a lot of reflecting and most likely readers are getting sick of it. But perhaps can set into motion some reflection of their own.

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Just trying to end my day better than it started.. Wrong medication so little visit to hell.. I can't say much as would ruin it It is more for my own entertainment as needed to check out my 'thinking' I think I have caught all the mistake I made. Observations from somewhere! Flo

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WORDS that simply came to me. Do they make sense or not. I don't question when they flow so easily. Perhaps a muse or perhaps words held in such a tight grip I could not release them until now.

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This I wrote for my daughters ages 30 and 36. I raised them in somewhat of a fifty's generation as I was raised. I wrote it and enlarged it then framed it for them on Christmas about 4 years ago. I think every word of it is true, it does contain one quote from Mark Twain, and one from Einstein. Hope you enjoy it and perhaps learn from it.

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Just expressing that helpless feeling when you know a soul is in peril and there is nothing you can do to help? We can all help those we know or give to organizations but once in awhile I feel the pull of a one soul so very far away, Most likely my imagination but maybe not. Maybe just a symbol of many I cannot reach nor help. Any and all feedback welcomed.

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Observations from someplace unimportant

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Yes... there will be more but too much on my mind to follow up right now. Although, perhaps it says it all? Today is truly all we have and perhaps not even that long. Live in moment more? This is one of those little pieces that one simply grabs a pencil and throws down before the words escape. Especially an old mind like mine! I had forgot it was even here as had no title even. Stumbled across it this morning so here it is. Very brief so sorry about the fifty word limit!!! haaaaa

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This is a subject that has haunted me since I was a small girl with two uncles in the Korean War. One who slept with a gun under his pillow so we had to be careful waking him. He would break out in a sweat and moan. Most likely reliving. Which is worse? Dying on a battlefield or the walking dying who live each day on the battlefield they left so long ago. What are the 'trues reasons man goes off to battle?' I would thing they are varied but I would venture they had no clue what they were getting into. Nor did they truly understand who and why they were killing. To question your government was simply not done. Those who did lived in fear and isolation. I have seen the walking dead. On street corners, silent in wheel chairs unable to meat the eyes of the onlookers. For what will he or she see? Disgust? Pity? Any true understanding how devastated these souls are and how for some, death would have been kinder. There is no way I can understand nor fully see into the heart and life of one at war. I can't. But I do recognize the horror when I see it reflected and the total lack of life in blank staring eyes who long ago gave up the will to get anyone to understand.

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None needed really. This was a piece I wrote for my daughter who was more or less under attack on her stand against the hate monger Glenn Beck. All Christians... coming at her and all in laws!!! aaaaggghh All feedback is welcome but not written to really get reviews just my venting.

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Was originally posted as a tough drabble but didn't like the way it ended so shortened it. A picture of what was and is becoming again.. poverty-- broken dreams. Any and all feedback...

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Reflections of a summer day when first I heard the "chimes." Just putting an experience to words so simple yet to me a serenade.

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Poem about life also the use of allegories in expression in poetry or any writing. Hope is to get readers who hesitate reviewing poetry to take a leap in faith as there is no wrong way to review if you say how a work 'feels' 'provokes' or if it doesn't. Still good feedback and can help enrich one's own writing. Poetry is not my favorite genre. I don't even own a book of poetry except for my mothers. Only poetry I read in on this site. I write it as do not feel confident in other genres. I too am learning to try though. To stretch oneself is to grow and stay flexible.

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my first cousin died recently of a drug overdose. This poem is how I dealt with the grief. I am interested in how the style is perceived as this is a comfortable writing style for me. This is the first time I have posted work on this forum and I am grateful for the reviews. I am grateful for the editing comments by kiwi & ulli as I have incorporated them into my piece. My first time listening to constructive editing advice. There maybe hope for me yet. To you other kind people, thanks for your comments. I will be sharing this poem at a family reunion today. Hopefully it will bring perspective & healing... po

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How I evolved into becoming a writer. That ah ha! moment... All feedback is wanted and pleaded for as all who read my work know my weaknesses. Realization of who it really all began.

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