Thursday, January 30, 2025
1248
Tuesday, January 28, 2025
1247
Easy Peasy
NAME: she scribbles on the form,
Use this basket for completed forms,
Completed means you can leave the form,
She arose from her seat, form
In hand, near the standup fan,
Can i help you? asked the clerk,
Remove your pen from the clipboard,
"Sure" she replied.
© gillena cox 2025
Monday, January 27, 2025
1246
Delish
She cut a slice of
The warm sweetbread,
The butter melted quickly
Into the aroma of the slice .
She bit happily into her treat,
Hmm, her nose actually quivered,
A hint of nutmeg,
Her favourite spice,
What' s not to love
About this afternoon's snack?
© gillena cox 2025
Thursday, January 23, 2025
1245
Tuesday, January 21, 2025
1244
A CHANCE FOR FRESH IDEAS : Erasure poem
What will you quit?
Quitting dosen't mean you lack perseverance;
This sudden declaration,
This announcement
Will offer a chance,
To seize this moment of transition,
To foster growth.
© gillena cox 2025
Monday, January 20, 2025
1243
Fires ablaze, the winds rough enough to spread mayhem and catastrophe. People left homeless. Such is the mood of January in LA as a world watches and weeps at the plight of one another
Power shifts and power sits. With its quota of conspiracy theories on an important and significant day of memories
One significant question is posed: “where can we find light in this never-ending shade?”
In Trinidad and Tobago the vibe is hot and busy. Preparing for the street event of Carnival where a State of Emergency lurks in the shadows overseeing crime and criminal elements detrimental to life and peace. This truly is a world of chiaroscuro. © gillena cox 2025
“where can we find light in this never-ending shade?”–From Amanda Gorman, “The Hill We Climb” is to be used in our prose or flash fiction write today
Tuesday, January 14, 2025
1242
Yet Another
The sounds of last year fights
The eve of New Year;
Booming noises, sparkling lights,
Questions arise,
As sounds of last year fights:
With our hope spirits,
Will it be better even if in slight?
Pondering is always the mood;
As this margin in time so slight,
Becomes the reality of yet another,
For sounds of last year fights.
© gillena cox 2025







