Prose from the attic, joggled from memory by Karla's beautiful response poem, inspired by Pablo Neruda...
If you were a poem I'd eat your words. Truth would spill from the corners of my mouth, merge with my tears and run down rivers. The convergent rapids would break this dam. My heart would flood the tributaries. Every stream would flow blue dreams, reflect red and purple sunsets and jump with salmon flashing neon that blinds my eyes. And lacking sight, I'd let the stream carry me fast and furious over the rocks. I become the current and explode into the foam. Hear me ROAR, my echo reverberates forever...
Powerful and full-flowing, Linda. I ADORE your prose. So controlled and yet unleashed and abundant. This is so very visual and yet the most wonderful sustained metaphor, too. Rocks my boat for sure! :)) LOL Kate xx
This poem roars out it's origianality and pure physical strength that the writer conceives and passes on to all. Well done and strong from beginning to end.
A remarkable poem of such romantic and insightful beauty..
When we write from the heart, as you do Linda, then we create works of marvel..
And I love that complimentary picture
Peter
Selected poems from previous & forthcoming collections together with Q&R apps on each page to enable audio rendition simultaneously with the written text
Contraband Marriage, traveling along the hemline of loving after incarceration, is a love story written in lyric and free form, set in reality with a different ever after.
Thank you for this beautiful prose; yes! Inspired by Neruda, you've penned a thrilling ride. And thanks for mentioning me in the summary. Honored!
(((HUGS))) and love, Karla.
This prose is bursting with passion. Inspired and inspiring.
Love & Light,
Joseph
is a wonderful current of magic
Love Tinka
fee
Susan
Love,
Eileen
The first sentence sets a remarkable tone for the rest of the construct!
Well done!
Richard
Brilliance...
Regis
When we write from the heart, as you do Linda, then we create works of marvel..
And I love that complimentary picture
Peter