Daily Archives: March 18, 2017

Descent #writephoto

Posted on March 18, 2017 by Sue Vincent

Originally posted on Observations of The Urban Spaceman:
The darkness swells around you It fills your heart and mind Beneath your skin, you burn with fever Stung by words unkind You try to rise above it all To take the higher…

Posted in Uncategorized | 1 Comment

Deep #writephoto

Posted on March 18, 2017 by Sue Vincent

Originally posted on Isabel Caves:
Deep in the bowels of hell, a heart glowed fiercely on a cave wall. The devil found this most unfortunate. He tried having his minions scrub it off. That didn’t work. They poured water on…

Posted in Uncategorized | 2 Comments

Comfort

Posted on March 18, 2017 by Sue Vincent

I leave my dog curled up in bed, I say goodnight and stroke her head. The bed she’s carried to the hall To guard my door (and guard her ball) So all night long, I’ll know she’s there And I … Continue reading →

Posted in Humour, Poetry | Tagged bed, cushions, Dogs, sleep | 48 Comments

No other way?

Posted on March 18, 2017 by Sue Vincent

A chill flame burns in the hearth Where the embers of warmth Should smoulder golden In the morning Carrying the gentle night To a new dawn. Dew falls, salt and bitter On the sapling Torn from earth To become a … Continue reading →

Posted in Poetry | Tagged anger, spear, tree, war | 13 Comments

Are computers the death knell for writers? Ask Google…

Posted on March 18, 2017 by Sue Vincent

A writer’s rant from the archives… It was the final straw… yet another article about how a stupendous programme can increase your readership. This one touted its ability to engage a reader’s emotions, based on statistical analysis of the emotive … Continue reading →

Posted in Books, Poetry, writing | Tagged computer generated novels, computer generated poetry, computers, digital art, fiction, imagination, mankind, Nick Verron, Photography, technology | 46 Comments

White-Skunk seeks medicine II… Stuart France

Posted on March 18, 2017 by Sue Vincent

* ‘How you must have stopped and wondered How I must feel Out on the meadows While you roam the fields.’ – Shaman Blues * … So Skunk went on the land but before long he accidentally stood on and … Continue reading →