Category: The Short of It

G.A. Neal

Published on by Susi Bocks12 Comments
Steve Knutson – Unsplash

Afterglow

Her beauty was stunning. You didn’t notice her metal crutches as she danced.  They were part of her, hiding behind the wispy flows of her costume. The fact that she could do the intricate moves with only one leg was astonishing. Upon completing her dance, the audience gave a heartfelt standing ovation.

Backstage, her director and best friend fiercely hugged her. “See, I told you you could do this. You were magnificent.”

“It felt good to be back out there.”

“You are welcome to come back anytime. The stage loves you, and I think you love it as well.”

“No, I think I will go in a different direction. I was asked to come teach other handicapped students.”

“Wow, that would be marvelous. Showing others the beauty that can still be made by each of them regardless of their injury.”

“Yeah, that’s where I’m needed.”

Anger Cycle

Anger that breeds regardless
Makes chances of change hopeless
With hope taken out of the equation
Life leans more toward abrasion
With abrasion, there is more tension
Any thought of love…no mention
Life without love is meaningless
Making anger breed regardless

Smiling

Joys of smiling come from things we love
The smell of flowers or the warm sun above
Maybe it’s the squeal of a child with a toy
Or snuggling a puppy that brings us that joy
Regardless of what it is for each individual one
It’s a practice we continue for love or for fun
For a smile with others also makes them smile
Helping us carry life’s joys for a good long while

Our Dream

Mark stared at the embers, still smoldering. “It’s all gone.”

“Not really,” said Samantha, “we will start over.”

Mark looked out across the hill down into the valley. Everything was burned beyond understanding. The wildfire got caught in the storm, sending it ravenously along, eating everything in its path.

“I don’t see how,” he said. “Maybe we should go home.”

“No. We will rebuild. It will be hard, but we can do it. The house was spared. This was our dream.”

Mark stood looking at the charred vineyard, feeling hopeless. “Our dream gone,” he thought.

“Come,” beckoned Samantha as she bent down to the vines closest to her. Taking a small pocket knife, she cut off one of the charred vines. “See, the vine is not dead. We lost this year’s new growth, but the main stalk is still green.”

“Rebuild, really?”

“Yes, this was our dream.”

Memories

Sleepless night…fearful thought
What will be the outcome brought
Day of fun, no need for a gun
Scattering many from this deed done

What purpose comes of thoughts this bad
For deeds so dark and outcomes so sad
Engulfed forever of what was to be fun
Are memories now of deeds that were done

~~~

G.A. Neal is a writer who loves to tell stories from her heart that hopefully encourage others. Her words remind us that whether the world surrounding us is bright and beautiful or dark and scary, we can always have a hand of hope holding us keeping us safe. G.A. was first featured in 2020 and then again in 2022. Click HERE to see her previous features. In 2021, she was a Pushcart Prize Nominee for her piece A Monarch Task. This is her second feature this year.

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If you’d like to be featured on The Short of It in the future,
click here for the submission guidelines.

– Vol 1 The Sound of Brilliance and Vol 2 Reflections & Revelations on Amazon

Kritika Maheshwari

Published on by Susi Bocks16 Comments
Hush Naidoo Jade Photography – Unsplash

For Years?

Now, seems broken
Past, went in tears
Future, will one live for years?

Trap

unwrap
the deep knowledge
is a trap
swap

It’s No Hustle

love is no hustle
there is no pain
without any suffering
and no thoughts of gain

But Your Heart

own the path
follow none
but your heart

~~~

Mostly she pens her works on her personal blog – valorousbird.wordpress.com. A few of her submissions have made it through to international and national online publications. One of her works can be found in an anthology, And I Healed, published in 2022. Many of her short poems have been featured in the two anthologies The Short Of It – The Sound of Brilliance and Reflections & Revelations. She writes because it’s magic. A solo traveler, a seeker, and a believer that life is magic if you are aware of your breath. Kritika, a Yoga Professional, can be contacted at valorousbird@gmail.com. This is her second feature this year.

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If you’d like to be featured on The Short of It in the future,
click here for the submission guidelines.

– Vol 1 The Sound of Brilliance and Vol 2 Reflections & Revelations on Amazon

Timo Schmitz

Published on by Susi Bocks11 Comments
Annie Spratt – Unsplash

Helpless moment

Down deep in the ocean, no light,
Darkness, no breath, a hurried tide,
A wall of ice pulls me down on the ground,
Glittering darkness’ silent sound,
Broken glass, broken inside, broken shadow,
Restless fires freezing inside the snow,
Ceasing in a ray of hope.

My fear of losing you

When I have fears that I could lose you forever,
I panic –
I become afraid of messing things up,
And as much more I think of it,
As more as I mess it up.
Because if there is one thing in the world
One wish
Then it is not losing you.

Insecurity

When I see in your eyes,
I get caught by your love,
And your tender replies,
I know you connect with my soul.

Yet, it is my worst fear,
Is to disappoint you,
Because to me, you’re so dear,
Like no one was before.

I don’t want to say anything wrong,
Not a broken word at all,
Because too well we get along,
And I know I’m good in destroying it.

I know you accept me as I am,
And yet my worry does not vanish,
I wish I could be more perfect,
But all I can see in myself is my blemish.

Walking through the river

Walking through the river, wet are my feet,
Thorns on the ground making them bleed,
The water is becoming red all around,
Its burbling around is making a sound.

Frightened or released, I do not know,
Whether the thorns will stop to grow,
Revealing jewels in the riverbed,
Tons and tons are miles ahead.

It is for better

It couldn’t be better,
The way things are,
After life hits you,
One might think:
Why am I this unlucky?
But in fact,
There is something better
Waiting for you.
Take the chance,
Grasp it!
I am happy
The way it went.

~~~

Timo Schmitz is a language fanatic, philosopher, journalist, poet, and book author from Germany. He authored poetry books in German, English, and French. His poetry was also featured among others in Luna’s Poetry Bar, I Write Her, The Short of It, and the anthology Social Justice Inks. Schmitz is currently doing his Ph.D. thesis in philosophy. Timo was first featured in 2022, and had his work appear in The Short of It – Volume 2, Reflections & Revelations. This is his second feature this year.

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If you’d like to be featured on The Short of It in the future,
click here for the submission guidelines.

– Vol 1 The Sound of Brilliance and Vol 2 Reflections & Revelations on Amazon

Amrita Valan

Published on by Susi Bocks7 Comments
Jéssica Oliveira – Unsplash

Flesh Memoirs of Touch

Your lips are pillows
Mine, pressed petals
Your kisses,
Urgent raspy barbs
Punctuated by vellum
Tranquilizers delivered
In sharp, sweet darts.

All Encompassed

Before your grace, I knelt,
Far too low to deserve
Your embrace, beaten
Down, was how I felt.  
In your tendresse, my soul
Transcends, disrobes from
Mortal pelts, of sin and shame
Guilt and blame.

Now I rise and fall,
Brave sea wave
Engulfed in 
Lovely gallant ocean.

Parched

Hope and
Love,
Keep.

Tears scorch
Fierce dry eyes
Wildfire cheeks.

I weep.

You are the elixir
I could not sip.

Reading Your Body

You can kiss me in ten different ways
I can deduce your day from each.
Have you been good, my love?
Has the world been the same 
To you?

Seeing by Touch

Breathing me in deeply
You go in for a hug
A long deep one.
I know you need comfort
And draw you in tight.

Faith is Love Expressed 

You will be alright.
Healing with kisses
Sealing faith
The inner goodness
Of warm bear hugs.

Moon Gazing on the Eve of Her Wedding Night

Silver scythe ebony night
Heart unveiled, virgin bride
Crimson love, lust for life.

The Story of Her Life

She never meant to hurt anyone,
But invariably, did.
She gave up caring.
People took to her
Like a duck to water.
She is so agreeable,
Such a caring empath.
Quirky teacher life,
Plans strange lessons.

~~~

Amrita Valan is an Indian writer of stories poems and essays. She has been published in online journals nationally and internationally. Her published works are Arrivederci Fifty Poems and a collection of short stories on Amazon – In Between Pauses: US & In Between the Pauses: UK. Amrita was first featured in 2022. You can find her features HERE, some of which were featured in Volume 2 – Reflections & Revelations. This is her second feature this year.

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If you’d like to be featured on The Short of It in the future,
click here for the submission guidelines.

– Vol 1 The Sound of Brilliance and Vol 2 Reflections & Revelations on Amazon

Rebelle Fleur

Published on by Susi Bocks5 Comments
Giulia Bertelli – Unsplash

My Heart  

bullet shells and shrapnel 
cannon fodder for your laughter 
this land lays barren hereafter  
no glint or glimmer 
no shining spark  
this was not your playground  
It’s my heart 

Signs 

caged by your ignorance
and sealed without thought 
the little starling locked in a box 
there were so many signs 
but none of them said stop 

Savor the Losses 

your name is the calligraphy coursing through my veins 
reverberating in the echo chamber of my heart 
rest your head on my chest 
can’t you hear how it is sung  
every anecdote 
every insecurity  
every insult  
is etched into the darkened stone of me 
the scent of you seeped into the marrow 
before each regretful whisper escapes my mouth 
I hold it at the tip of my tongue 
so I can savor the losses 
I would happily dine on your laughter 
even If I can never be the source 

There are gifts in forgetting 

the last time I saw you 
you were just as handsome as the first 
before I could ask if you ever think of me 
you smiled and quickened your pace 
I felt the river of my heart spilling past your face 
on its way to the place where eternity is born 
and there is no reference point for north 
I watched the crescent waves of hope crashing and ebbing  
and just past the shore 
I laid your name to rest amongst an elephant graveyard  
whose bones lack the gift of forgetting 

Blue Eyed Boy 

boy with the eyes of fathomless oceans  
and hair of tendrilled sunbeams 
the blue-eyed boy with the drum in his throat 
you are still a thing I’ve touched but never really held 
I love you, boy made of hyssop and hematite 
I love you, hands at the small of my back  
I love you, lips at the hearth of my ear 
I love you, fingertips on rib bones 
I love you, strained from my chest and drawn from my breath 
there is no “un-making” of what we’ve made 
the claim has been staked  
if you wanted to be rid of me 
you shouldn’t have stayed

~~~

Rebelle Fleur is a poet of Hispanic descent hailing from the Midwest. Often focusing on the esoteric, transmutational, mystic, or even macabre, her brand of introspective poetry can be found at fleurpoetic-blog.tumblr.com, where all weirdos are welcome. She spends her free time doing taxidermy of insects and small creatures. This is Rebelle’s second feature with The Short of It. You can read her first feature HERE.

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If you’d like to be featured on The Short of It in the future,
click here for the submission guidelines.

– Vol 1 The Sound of Brilliance and Vol 2 Reflections & Revelations on Amazon

Elisha Ager

Published on by Susi Bocks6 Comments
Tom Barrett – Unsplash

Tired

Lacking energy,
Passion drops like the climate, 
A long slog ahead. 

Boreas

Cold seeps into bones,
I ponder the sweeping wind,
On his trip up north.

Persevere

Shimmering glass stars,
Frost shatters into fragments,
The illusion lifts.

Vibrance

A monochrome world,
White fields below black heavens,
But, orange hues dawn.

Cozy

There, in the darkness,
Bright warmth in a log cabin, 
Joy will rise again. 

Rain

Crystals on windows, 
Pitter patter, the drops laugh,
I will sit and read.

~~~

Elisha Ager, an avid follower of traditional Japanese poetry, studied the art of haiku during their travels. Having returned to the UK, they enjoy weaving the precise cadences of haiku with the nuances of the English language, infusing their personal experience with cultural insights. This is Elisha’s first feature with The Short of It.

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If you’d like to be featured on The Short of It in the future,
click here for the submission guidelines.

– Vol 1 The Sound of Brilliance and Vol 2 Reflections & Revelations on Amazon

Ash Jaudon

Published on by Susi Bocks6 Comments
Benyamin Bohlouli – Unsplash

Fated For Loneliness

Sleep eludes the silent voice of suffering
Quiet nights endured alone wreck barren souls
Universal oneness with darkness
Universal separation unfolds
Pockets of light kiss the skin on occasion
Imitating joy others daily know
Solitude calls weary heads to rest
Solitude, the only place that feels like home

Color Theory

Green radiating from my imbalanced heart chakra
Powered by the aventurine in my pocket
Its glow dulls every day I don’t meditate 

Matching the dead green that overshadows the blue
In my eyes on my darkest days
Green, the color of health in my soul and the Earth
But the color of sickness in my body and mind
A color of duality
A color of mystery  

Mind Palace

I light up again in the pale moonlight
Silence is here
Not even a raindrop could make me listen
Dusk is my home
Nesting my loneliness in the shadows

The Son of Night

If the sun shines
And flowers bloom
Even in the most
Desolate of places
Why then can’t we propagate
Ourselves in foreign spaces

Thoughts on Duality

Like the red-stained ground of the morning
Or the powdery pink overtones of dusk
We are all tinted differently
Where the dark and the light meet 

Climate Change

I can hear the conifers crying
Decades of deciduous growth destroyed
I can feel the trauma of trees
Calling out in fear

Curtail

How do you slip out of the plane of existence
Not to a higher place
But to a nothing place
Everyone else traps you here with selfish insistence
By imitating love
Obligation isn’t love
Is there an exit that doesn’t draw a witness
Not out with a big bang
Out with a flickering

~~~

Ash Jaudon has been writing for a lifetime, but only in recent years have they challenged themselves to publicly share their written and spoken words. Emerging as a poet has been the next step on an intense journey of authenticity. They are becoming known for their tarot-inspired typewriter poems, which can be found on their Instagram @liminal_luminarian . This is Ash’s first feature with The Short of It.

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If you’d like to be featured on The Short of It in the future,
click here for the submission guidelines.

– Vol 1 The Sound of Brilliance and Vol 2 Reflections & Revelations on Amazon

Tina Stewart Brakebill

Published on by Susi Bocks5 Comments
Andraz Lazic – Unsplash

silence (I)

before the phone rings
one last moment ‘til it ends
peacefully silent 

silence (II) 

in the silence, hope
boundless in the fleeting hush  
undone in the roar     

silence (III) 

the surge overwhelms
unsaid words are swallowed whole 
silence turns to grief

silence (IV)

memories undone
a feast on display for all
silence is welcome 

silence (V)  

coffee and biscuits
hummingbirds breach the silence
the morning opens

~~~

Tina Stewart Brakebill loves words. She has written two books, but creating meaning with fewer words has become a recent passion of hers. She has been featured in The Short of It, Pure Haiku, and 50 Haikus. Please visit tinastewartbrakebill.com to find out more and read fewer words. Tina was first featured in 2020. You can click HERE to read her previous submission as well as some reblogs of her work.

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If you’d like to be featured on The Short of It in the future,
click here for the submission guidelines.

– Vol 1 The Sound of Brilliance and Vol 2 Reflections & Revelations on Amazon

Akhila Siva

Published on by Susi Bocks6 Comments
Jackson Simmer – Unsplash

Leave her alone

The wildflower heart
strums to the pace of
evergreen woods.
She unwinds her infinite
tears of hues and blues
inside a silver dew drop.
She renders to the beats of
autumn leaves under
the blanket of a misty fog.
She sleeps under the stars
cherishing solitude.
Stop staring at her
And leave her free.
She is not a wallflower
But a wild flame of love.
Leave her
Leave her alone
She belongs to herself

Tranquility

The ocean, a tranquilizer, does croon,
Healing the scars of the lone, distant moon.
Along the waves of affection’s sweet kiss,
In the dewy night, they find moments of bliss.

Lawn of thoughts

The soul bleeds letters, an artful stream,
Words flow in tendrils, like a poet’s dream,
Notions bloom, like buds at dawn,
In the lawn of thoughts, a muse is drawn,
In the realm of verse, an inspiring scheme.

A journey of passion

I’m a canvas of emotions, colors rich and true,
Expressing my feelings, in hues bright and new.
I’m not a woman who never wearies or tires,
But within my heart, dreams shine like fires.
A journey of passion, a flame burning bright,
I’m a spirit unchained, in my own radiant light.
With strength and purpose, I reach for the inner light.

Orchestra

rustle of drizzle
chirpings by the window pane
nature’s orchestra

Futile heart

cradle of uncertainties
stretching out their limbs
entrapped futile heart

~~~

Akhila Siva is a self-motivated, lifelong learner. Passionate for quantitative data analysis, her analytical mind flourishes, while her heart resonates with the expressiveness of poetry. A Dew Chimes – Misty Poems is her first published poetry book. She has also authored a book titled Know Them: One Answer to Many Questions Akhila was first featured in 2020 and then again in 2022. You can find her work HERE.

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If you’d like to be featured on The Short of It in the future,
click here for the submission guidelines.

– Vol 1 The Sound of Brilliance and Vol 2 Reflections & Revelations on Amazon

Bartholomew Barker

Published on by Susi Bocks29 Comments
NASA Hubble Space Telescope – Unsplash

Astrophilia

I love the warmth of moonlight
as it flirts with my skin.

I love when wandering Venus
returns, chastened to my twilight.

I love the glowing blue nightgowns
of the Pleiades as they slink
their way across my bedroom sky.

Countless hours in backyards
and darkened parking lots
with telescopes, binoculars
and my naked eyes

and despite my attention, my ardor,
none of them ever loved me back
until you.

Attachments
for Roxanne

Breathe deep before taking the shot
so you won’t smell the liquor
and it won’t taste as bad.

At least that’s what I’ve heard
as I swirl the wine and smirk
at my companion with her tiny glass.

Wine is superior. Inhale the bouquet,
note the shade of purple, indulge
all your senses in the vintner’s art.

She flicks her wrist to send the tequila
lying over her tongue then squints,
neck muscles tighten and her smile
turns upside down until the chaser.

I’m glad I didn’t convince her.
I’d miss that expression
washing over her flawless face.

Escape to the Kuiper Belt

If offered a one-way ticket to Mars
I’d renegotiate for Neptune or further
where the ice is hard as stone
and our sun is just the brightest star.

I’m done with this warm rock,
that got a little too wet
and is smeared with something
fussy green and growing.

Send me to some distant pebble
shaped like a celestial peanut
without enough gravity to stand
I’ll cling to the surface.

Watch the heedless stars trace their orbits
and barely notice the Earth flare and fade.

First Thing in the Morning

When that old man
who resembles my father
looks in through the window
over my bathroom sink

I ask him how he got there
and he usually replies
with a shrug

Love Sprouts in Unlikely Places
per mi amore

Vacationing in a foreign land
on a crowded beach with less swimsuit,
she lays her towel and book
next to me but doesn’t speak.

That night I see her alone
at a sidewalk table for two.
She smiles an invitation,
the only common language we need.

Together, we’re discovering
the cracks in the concrete of life,
where beauty blooms like a rose
proving us all wrong.

We’re writing our own story—
without any words.

(Third stanza image stolen from Tupac Shakur.)

~~~

Bartholomew Barker is an organizer of Living Poetry, a collection of poets in North Carolina. Born and raised in Ohio, studied in Chicago, and worked in Connecticut for nearly twenty years before moving to Hillsborough, where he makes money as a computer programmer to fund his poetry habit. www.bartbarkerpoet.com Bartholomew was first featured in 2020 and then again in 2022. You can find his work HERE.

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If you’d like to be featured on The Short of It in the future,
click here for the submission guidelines.

– Vol 1 The Sound of Brilliance and Vol 2 Reflections & Revelations on Amazon