Contest Entries

Author: Terrible Poem About Love💚

Prepare yourself. Take a deep breath. This week’s Terrible Poetry Contest theme is love. My entry is below. Best of terrible luck to you. May the bard’s strings break and curl from hearing your poem.

___

The Green Love

My love for you is like pickles, my dear
You’re like a giant pickle yourself.
Wrinkled, vinegary, tart and you make my mouth pucker

But frogs, my dear–consider
Will never croak our love ballads out the way you do
Birds fall out of the sky, dead at your winsome, cat crying tones.

Screams! My love for you is but a ballad of curled beards
Curled like your toes made of mahogany wood
Oh my dear, I sigh in love
Like a dill pickle.

-A. R. Clayton

Blogmas 2019, Christianity: My Journey & Thoughts

Blogmas Day 20 – 22: Morning Prayer for Prisoners (D. Bonhoffer)🙏

I came across a snippet of this prayer while reading a book. I looked it up and found what I believe is the complete version. The words really struck me and reminded me a lot of the Psalms. I’m passing on the prayer to anyone who needs encouragement and prayer themselves. Pass it forward, if you’d like.

To read more about Dietrich Bonhoffer, click here. Mr. Bonhoffer coined the term “cheap grace.” One day I will read a biography on the man. And I may try to memorize the below and/or put it in my writing room.

Mr. Bonhoffer died in a concentration camp during the Holocaust. He was a man who knew and lived St. Paul’s famous words: “To live is Christ, to die is gain.” Meditate, chew and listen.

Continue reading “Blogmas Day 20 – 22: Morning Prayer for Prisoners (D. Bonhoffer)🙏”

Christianity: My Journey & Thoughts, Ponderings

Author: Prairies of Quiet & Burning Out

I have come to think that burn out has different stages and scenery. It’s like watching a prairie fire over time–eventually, it burns itself out. You’re left in a quiet, peaceful, albeit grey area of ashes and soot. This is the layer that brings back life, if you let it.

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Ponderings

Author: A Quiet Look at ERs (Free Write) 🏥

“Hello. Is this is the ER check-in desk?”

The attendant looks up; I expect her to say something like “No, this is the Clown and Circus Motorcycle Club. You want down the hall and to the left, pass the screaming banshee who met with an unfortunate accident, but before the cafeteria and gift shop.”

I get a nod instead. I take a breath and plunge into the story, perhaps for the fifth time that day.

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