After The Bluest Eye

The book weighs heavily on my left. The last page stares at me - Incriminating. My thumbnails hold on tight; Head tilted still; Eyes seeing all but finding none - Still in haste, refusing to accept that She has placed her period solidly, Defiantly, to complete her work: The first to her Nobel end. An...

Can’t sing but can read

The friendly editors at The Daily Post had prompted us (WordPressers at large) to write about/construct a soundtrack to our life a couple of days ago. It didn't inspire me then to write anything 'meaningful' or 'transcendent' even in the mildest sense of these words and the end result can be found here. It did however get...