Posted by SebnemSanders | Filed under Uncategorized
Happy Thanksgiving to all my American friends!
24 Thursday Nov 2016
24 Thursday Nov 2016
18 Friday Nov 2016
Posted Flash Poesy, Uncategorized
inTags
attachment, belongings, clutter, cuddly toys, dolls, friends, loneliness, minimizing, obsolete
She seems a bit strange, lately,
distracted, muttering to herself
about things.
Though she never stops talking to us,
she only shares her joys,
tells us jokes and stories.
We know her too well
to believe things are swell.
She weeps on her own,
has stopped playing music,
reads silently on her computer,
and sighs
The other day
she grabbed the fancy dresses,
elegant shoes and handbags
from her wardrobe and
tossed them inside a bin liner
Too much, obsolete
We could hear her thoughts.
She used to look so good in those
many years ago.
We stay the same,
only fading and fraying at the seams,
over time,
yet humans age and pass.
Will it be our turn soon?
Pondering on an orphanage,
she perused us.
Oh, no, not yet.
Maybe later.
She reached for the Raggedy Ann,
in her washed out dress and
pressed her to her heart
Then kissed all the other dolls
and cuddly toys, one by one, saying
“We are friends for life,
Till death do us part. “
15 Tuesday Nov 2016
13 Sunday Nov 2016
Posted Flash Poesy
in
Of absence
Copyright © Mark Sadlier (United-Kingdom)
https://www.artlimited.net/image/en/190633
In the silence of the night
the house creaks in your absence
sounds of agony and lament
pour down the halls
arresting my sleep
I rise and glide through the darkness
The old sideboard speaks
its obscure language of pain
the walls and the doors
agree in their still protest
Vibes of negativity amplify
as I stagger through our past
Maybe it’s me who should depart
and leave the house in peace.
11 Friday Nov 2016
Posted Fellow Writers, Uncategorized
inRest in Peace, Leonard Cohen, great poet, song-writer and visionary. 😦
“You Want It Darker”
If you are the dealer, I’m out of the game
If you are the healer, it means I’m broken and lame
If thine is the glory then mine must be the shame
You want it darker
We kill the flame
Magnified, sanctified, be thy holy name
Vilified, crucified, in the human frame
A million candles burning for the help that never came
You want it darker
Hineni, hineni
I’m ready, my lord
There’s a lover in the story
But the story’s still the same
There’s a lullaby for suffering
And a paradox to blame
But it’s written in the scriptures
And it’s not some idle claim
You want it darker
We kill the flame
They’re lining up the prisoners
And the guards are taking aim
I struggled with some demons
They were middle class and tame
I didn’t know I had permission to murder and to maim
You want it darker
Hineni, hineni
I’m ready, my lord
Magnified, sanctified, be thy holy name
Vilified, crucified, in the human frame
A million candles burning for the love that never came
You want it darker
We kill the flame
If you are the dealer, let me out of the game
If you are the healer, I’m broken and lame
If thine is the glory, mine must be the shame
You want it darker
Hineni, hineni
Hineni, hineni
I’m ready, my lord
Hineni
Hineni, hineni
Hineni
09 Wednesday Nov 2016
Posted Flash Fiction, Uncategorized
inTags
bombs, child, colours, dreams, explosions, protection, war
Many thanks to the Drabble for publishing my drabble. 🙂
He could hear the blasts from far away. It happened every day and night. Heavy eyelids lured him into a dream. Balloons, kites and the pretty prints his mother wore. She stroked his hair, saying, “Always take care of your baby sister.” He nodded, holding onto her sleeve. He was five, his sister two.
Loud noises tore him from the kaleidoscope. His sister wailed as the walls shook and crumbled down. In the foggy air, he dashed to her crib and picked her up. He squatted in a corner and covered her head with his hands.
Bio: Sebnem E. Sanders is a native of Istanbul, Turkey, living currently on the Eastern shores of the Southern Aegean where she dreams and writes Flash Fiction and poetry, as well as longer works of fiction. Her stories have appeared on the Authonomy Blog, The Drabble, and Sick…
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05 Saturday Nov 2016
Posted Flash Poesy, Uncategorized
inIt began with a single word
then words gathered in the sky
like dark, sinister clouds
laden with electricity
and they clashed
Noises rocked the earth
as torrential showers of tears
fell on the house,
drowning its dreams.
When the rains stopped
the house was gone,
washed to the sea.
Alone,
Hope lingered on the shore,
and wept under the rainbow
in the clear blue sky
No more words,
only sorrow and memories
of a love consumed,
recklessly.
05 Saturday Nov 2016
Posted Uncategorized
inA dark story from the talented Kate Murdoch. 🙂
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