Welcome to Promote Yourself Monday. All Go Dog Go Cafe readers, guest writers, and baristas are invited to post one link to one specific post (600 words or less please!) from your blog into the comments section below.
If you post a link, be sure to read some of the other great writing people have linked to.
Taino although you’re not here anymore the Nirvana Arms still stand tall and even though our friendship was perplexing you taught me morality and how to see the goodness in the least expected people decency is at times not where we think it might or should be
And remember Waverly she’s a lawyer now but back then she was a lost kid we all hated you for calling the authorities on her folks for neglect although it was true we were mostly just tax exemptions religious guilt rescue pregnancies and a terrific pain in the ass to them but you saw us as diamonds in a very rough and unjust place
I learned how to walk in heels layer foundation insert a tampon and fill out job applications because of you and you sat me down to explain why i shouldn’t take my life all the while inside you were already dying against your will
No one came to say goodbye to you not even me and all i could think about was how you tore me away from rapists on Werdin Place and held me tight after the cops came never judged the look of my veins and gave me compassion at levels that until this day it’s so hard to take
Once in a while i see a strawberry blond wig at the Goodwill and smile or at Walgreens the cheap acrylic nail kits you were fond of tug at my very soul at Macy’s the tropical prints you admired and honored me in choosing for you and when we got into trouble and the hoosegow loomed in our future you were always a father and when needed for love advice calling off the school vice squad or a tender non judgmental kick in the ass you were always our mother
sun
stroking
my back
train is coming
across the tracks slowly
the songs of birds echoed
as i fell seven feet deep across the
mountain where the red tail hawk she greeted me with a gown of platinum jade and jasper and in her sigh
a woman mounted on Pegasus came to bless me she said to me the kingdom came and here we have the honorable nine dancing maidens whose Queendom we will share with you our guest
i raised my arms in disbelief and asked to be transported to the Southwest Museum where i was going the hawk she swooped and lifted me to show me the holy fields of rapture
we can arrange to take you back said the little maiden with tail of gold but we ask for a favor
you and your clan we hope respect the
remains of our sacred ancestors
i nodded yes and
in a flash
woke up
in
Toviscangna
with words and kind gestures we can open up tremendous possibilities for ourselves and the rest of all precious life, not only in this world but in the world of our spirits and souls
The universal declaration of human rights 10 December 1948 / public domain photograph
“Everyone has the right to freedom of opinion and expression; this right includes freedom to hold opinions without interference and to seek, receive and impart information and ideas through any media and regardless of frontiers.” United Nations Universal Declaration of Human Rights, Paris, December 10, 1948
Last week PEN America applauded the introduction of two tandem bipartisan Congressional resolutions marking World Press Freedom Day, recognizing “widening threats to freedoms of the press and expression around the world, reaffirming the centrality of a free and independent press to the health of democracy, and reaffirming freedom of the press as a priority of the United States in promoting democracy, human rights and good governance.”
In the United States Senate, the resolution was proposed by Senators Robert Menendez (D-NJ), Marco Rubio (R-FL) and Bill Casey (D-PA), along with…
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calma
se va
azul adentro de
mi
corazón que
late por ti
las
luces juguetonas
me llevan perdida
se
ríen de
mi dando pasos
circulares
buscando salida
de tu prisión
calma
vai azul
dentro meu coração
que
bate por
você o luzes
brincalhonas
eles me
levam perdido isso
eles
riem meus
passos tomando circular
procurando
saída da
sua prisão
calm
it goes
blue inside my
heart
that beats
for you the
playful
lights they
take me lost
they
laugh at
me taking circular
steps
looking for
an exit from
your prison
and so as not to dis the etiquette of my new found tribe i too partook of the shit on a shingle entrée… Saturday night with nothing to do i strolled down two quarter blocks on Virgil Avenue and turned left to order ginger ale from the one the guys called Mama San we were all AA students but the boys chose to ditch school 5 days a week they talked about the evils of malt liquor as they drank down their rye sharing army stories of the war in Viet Nam they hazed me into conversation but all i could muster was having read about Iran/Contra in current events for my 9th grade dissertation i called Susi over and asked for the check slipping off the bar stool they executed a synchronous head turn im not a drill sergeant i thought to myself i wiped my space dry with my over stretched sleeve and the guy with a Teamster’s Cap circa 73’ offered a story about Buffalo Springfield my stoic face gave me away and two old timers said i was a kid i sat back up and ordered Red Bull on the rocks knowing it would be a battle the Rolodex of my mind spun and whirred i lightly joked about Neil Young and Crazy Horse clarifying i got their CD from Target the soldiers they all had a chuckle detonating the wrinkles of suffering ingrained on their face i rammed through their barrier with my praise of Stevie Ray Vaughn and i wrapped up my ambush with a very harrowing rendition of Fortunate Son and as the cigarette smoke lifted their silhouettes shifted to a comfortable slump and they ordered some food so the party could start
Good morning, and welcome to your Friday Stream of Consciousness Saturday prompt! We’re back to our regularly scheduled whatever prompts rather than being limited to a letter of the alphabet. Phew! That was quite the month, wasn’t it? Here’s your prompt:
Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “fall from the sky.” Write about anything that falls from the sky–real, imagined, or idiomatic. Have fun!
After you’ve written your Saturday post tomorrow, please link it here to this week’s prompt page and check to make sure it’s here in the comments so others can find it and see your awesome Stream of Consciousness post. Anyone can join in!
To make your post more visible, use our pretty SoCS badge! Just paste it in your Saturday post so people browsing the reader will immediately know your post is stream of consciousness and/or pin it as a widget to your…
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the trance floats my feet across London Bridge where i meet the Sex Pistols for tea then i met the Dalai Lama for goat yoga and he read the Scottish Play to me i raised my head down from the clouds to capture the perfect hue of turquoise when Loololama cusped my hand to teach me Hopi geometry upon seeing the bracelets of my thoughts in such opulent colors Billie and Frida brought May West and we had a slumber party in the morning Rosa and Harriet took me to church in Aretha’s Pink Cadillac after June and Johnny sang Amazing Grace Bowie said to Lou Reed if she falls from the sky she’ll break her nose all the while Mother Teresa looked to Peter as she wildly agreed and while he did not stomp his feet Archangel Michael was ordered to fly me down and he dropped me off between Normandie and Western
Use the image below as inspiration to create a post on your own blog… poetry, prose, humour… light or dark, whatever you choose, by noon (GMT) Wednesday 8th May and link back to this post with a pingback to be included in the round-up. There is no word limit and no style requirements, except to keep it fairly family friendly.
For visually challenged writers, the image shows an ornately half-timbered house, bowed by the weight of centuries.
All posts will be featured in the round-up on Thursday May 9th at 10am GMT, linking back to the original posts of contributors. Throughout the week I will feature as many of the responses here on the Daily Echo as space allows and (more or less) in the order in which they come in.
You can find all last week’s entries in the weekly round-up. Please visit and read the stories and poems…
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the tenderness in your folds
the secrets that you keep
the closets where i hid
to get away from him
the cinnamon babkas tickled my tongue
while your eyes smiled to hear me
mis-pronounce chicken schnitzel
through my missing front teeth
words less spoken 