Posted on April 11, 2012 by pittsburghflashfictiongazette
The Pittsburgh Flash Fiction Gazette averages well over 300 hits every day. But the Old Soldier dreams of the day when it averages over 1,000, 2,000 and even 3,000 hits every day.
I dream of the day when I can pay local women, who have never posed nude for anything in their lives, a nice fee to pose nude for the PFFG. I dream of the day when the local movers and shakers in the city want to be interviewed by the PFFG. I dream of the day when I can pay a respectable fee to poets, non-fiction and fiction writers for their work to be published by the PFFG.
I dream of the day when I can pay the Love Doctor a generous fee for her work and to give her an expense account so that she can not only investigate a story but can also bring back photos.
Oh, well, everybody should have a dream.
Keep reading and keep writing that flash fiction.
Read. Study. Write. Submit.
- Thinking About Boobs In Pittsburgh (pittsburghflashfictiongazette.com)
- A Truly Unique Reading Experience (pittsburghflashfictiongazette.com)
- Sexy Flash Fiction And A Woman’s Naked Butt (pittsburghflashfictiongazette.com)
- A Beginner’s Guide To Flash Fiction (pittsburghflashfictiongazette.com)
Filed under: Blogging | Tagged: blog, blogging, boobs in Pittsburgh, Dreams, fiction writers, local women, love doctor, Pittsburgh Flash Fiction Gazette, pose nude, submit | Leave a Comment »
Posted on October 21, 2011 by pittsburghflashfictiongazette
Image via Wikipedia
An epilogue to the hours on a canvas
brushed with words
And the years reflected in a wavy mirror
Opaque images____ of spaces among spaces
I wander through dreams turned ashen
And feel the tremors of yesterday
Tapping on the door of my soul
Shrunken now to a hollow vessel
To ply the melancholy waters of night
With currents of starlight spreading
Through the skies like spilled milk
Passions run parallel with time
And swallow the distance___ of spaces within spaces
To fill them with sprays of bygone springs
When violets wore purple capes
And rain fell warm as throats
My memories thick and moist as sixteen
My feet tripping on dreams cluttering my path
My body now___ all but forgotten
It trails after me like an absent-minded apostrophe
Many spaces behind my memories
I wear them in a crown of thorns
To pierce my head with here and there people
Absent in time but fastened in my veins
Against my back they brush
In soft breaths of remembrances
Or in sudden shadows falling from trees
And when in a quiet sphere of night,
They pass across the moon
In slow-motion wing beats,
They whisper goodbye.
Susan writes regularly for print magazines WestWard Quaterly, Pegasus and Hudson View. Online she has poems and fiction on Ken Again, Smoking Poet, Eastown Fiction, Jerry Jazz Musician, Tryst 3, Word Salad and Pens On Fire to name a few. In 2007 she won the grand prize for poetry from One Swan. She had a chapbook on http://languageandculture.net and her chapbook Bending the Spaces of Time was runner up in a chapbook contest on Shadow Poetry and won first prize in JMW poetry contest with Sleep and the Way It Dreams.
Filed under: Poetry | Tagged: Dreams, Hudson View, images, Pegasus, Poetry, Somoking Poet, Spaces Among Spaces, Susan Dale, WestWard Quaterly | 3 Comments »