A father & son take a rare journey across the DMZ and into the mysteries and mountains of the impoverished and occasionally starving nati…
I have some photos on display that were taken in North Korea, and I thought it only fair that I include the story that goes along with them. I entered this in a travel writing competition recently (it didn’t win) and I’m posting it here so at least some one might get some enjoyment out of it! Not technically related to ‘Japanfluence’, but I thought it might be interesting to a few of you Japonophiles – here’s looking at you TBO!
Tri-colored spheres. / A complete creation of two people who / brought him here..
Inspired by the birth of my son.
His father’s arms wrapped him tight / Whispering farewell with an early kiss goodnight / The boy held on not wanting to release / The father…
I guess I was thinking about how it would feel to not have a father always there that was dedicated to something else and someone else…..how would it feel if what a child wanted he never got…..
Since you came into my life, darling babe / I’ve loved to watch you sleep / In awe of you, so in love with you / I’d brush your velvet cheek…
A poem about a mother’s love for her son. I wrote this about my son, Aidan, one night after checking on him in bed. I did not know that at that time I was pregnant with my daughter, Julia. I am not a poet and have never written poems before or since, but perhaps a combination of immeasurable love and pregnancy hormones were enough to produce one nice poem that I’m proud of.
Look through rotted window pane. / through broken shades of glass.
This one was writen by my father M.A.Wells
With Ed on board the beast it flew / From Burtle on the Level / To Stoke sub Hamdon it was bound / And all that saw did marvel. Controlli…
Lost and alone to face the day / Will it be over, soon I pray Lessons learned no longer needed / For his life I prayed and pleaded
Six weeks after my son was killed in an arm robbery his son Ashton was born. It was on his first birthday that I actually saw his father’s smile shining through him and it etched a place in my heart forever.
Sunrise; dawn of his birth / Sally & Kim see the grin / Wuthering Heights in the mind / Heathcliff to Heath given unto him / A rising son; th…
I wrote this because it is how I deal with death. I like to write about someone when they were alive and rarely do I mention the death. It’s best to remember them as they were not final moments.
My little boy, / your so handsome and strong / let me tell you something / this wont take very long I want you to listen to me / AS YOU SH…
The big kids were smoking as they walked ahead of Peter down the sidewalk beside the Weston Plaza. They were in high school and wore uni…
I submitted this story to a peer for review awhile back and got the saddest response from them. “This is more appropriate as a children’s book than an adult short story.” This was not written for children, but through a child’s eyes. I hope that none of us ever forget what it was like to be eye level with the kitchen counter and to be brilliant and devious, repentant and loved by somebody bigger than us who could envelop us in one hug.
Close to the road into the woods Where we’d talk of fools and hoods, Watch for crickets and listen to cars Was a place that we c…
This poem depicts the close relationship between a Father and his son based on the Father’s memories of a special long ago period in his life. There really is a “Josh” and I’ve had the pleasure of visiting the “Josh and My Sittin’ and Spittin’ Spot” several times listening to the sweet memories of Josh’s Father, Richard Zuspan, as he related the comfortable bonding between him and his son in that long ago but fondly remembered era. During that time, the Father chewed tobacco, hence, the “spittin” part of the poem. Today Josh has a son about the age he was when there was this special “Sittin’ and Spittin’ Spot”. Josh doesn’t “chew” and lives far away but the bond between him and his own son is just as solid as the one between Josh and his Father during his young years in that very special place. With just a few word revisions, the poem should fit well into each of the many Zuspan generations yet to follow.
nor will i ever / forget the times, / when you stood / at my window / counting my crimes / watching me fuck / another guy / wishing / it was you…
raw, fresh, wounded, open and as yet, unedited… break ups are never good scenarios / irrespective of who’s calling the shots, / lost interest… / or simpy / just needs to / move on… The following poem, thoughts, feelings, or whatever… were inspired by the sad, heart-felt words written in THIS poem… Thank you liciouspoet, I’m sorry that your sorrow, provided me with a muse, for the following memory…
No hay riquesas sin trabajo, / No hay placer sin consencia, / No hay comercio sin moralida, / No hay siencia sin humanidad,, / No hay educasion
sad,bubble ,trouble ,life,sports,happy,work,funeral,church,house,friend,cousin,brother,son,father,
Abounding with energy / Overflowing with life / Constant questions for Mommy / Overcoming his strife
His mother carefully cared for her nest…
Frank Beardmore was my cousin on my father’s side. He passed away a few years back. I wrote this shortly after I heard the news.
Not once in your life have you caused me any pain or strife, all you do is just perfection,
This poem is written about my son.
The moment that my eyes laid claim / to every atom that makes you; / each pore, each crease, each shining truth / beheld upon your ancient f…
For my beautiful, beautiful sons. xxxxoooo
no kids laughter outside / unless pta organized / always arrive ontime / never free to watch the sky / fastfood drive thru suv smooth ride / t…
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