Twittering Tales: A Midnight Storm

A Midnight Storm

These dark reflections.

Storm clouds gather on a
midnight tear through
San Francisco.

He wants the storm to last
forever; he wants to be
hidden and faceless: dead
without dying.

(c) Rob Goldstein 2019

162 Characters

This is an entry for Kat Myrman’s Twittering Tales #135 – 7 May 2019

Twittering Tales Kat Myrman
Weather Phenomenon, Photo by jplenio at

For Willow.

#Poetry: Connections

    You have no business

no right to

tell me how I feel.

I do what I must:

I open my eyes and pull

down the sky.

I bleed myself dry.

Here where reality is

brutal and exhausting,

we are connected by lies

and anger —

We are one again.

(c) Rob Goldstein 1984-2019

Official Announcement And a Little Speech

A New Book from N.F. Mirza

Before I start shooting random senseless posts let me make the official announcement.

People of WordPress, my Debut book is finally available on amazon website on following link: Swinging Sanity

I am trying hard not to be emotional but I’m failing miserably.

I would never ever be able to do it had I not landed here.

I regretted my actual career getting derailed but yesterday a close friend of mine said she is glad that it happened. I think I am too. 

If my life went as planned. I wouldn’t be writing

If I never felt the pain, my words would be shallow.

If I had the love and support from where it should have been, I would never even discover this place.

I’m still not happy about what I suffered, but today I don’t regret it that much.

There is always a way to follow your dreams no…

View original post 96 more words

Diana’s March poem: you left me behind

from The Myths of the Mirror

Myths of the Mirror

pixabay image from Natan Vance

you left me behind

by D. Wallace Peach

you left me behind

because I was born in the barrio

in a shack by flooded rivers

in the dusty winds of drought

didn’t speak your tongue

or worship your god

the one who bade you

love the children

I am the meek

you left behind

because I toiled in cane fields

watched the dawn ripple through fish nets

over dying turquoise waters

tended my father’s reindeer

on the tundra’s barren crust

I bear no papers to witness my learning

my worth in coins or accounts

my worth in belonging

as a human being

I am too young, too crooked, too old

too homeless, too hungry

the wrong color emblazoned across my face

the wrong size, gender, ethnicity

the wrong way to love

to be

you needed a stranger to blame

and I am left behind


View original post 24 more words