October 2020

Inspired by the prompt, My favorite little things

Cobalt blue glass, white bed linens, copper flecks in anything, Terra napping with her computer still on, Misty sitting in the sun under the dining room table, yellow enameled teapot, Skye on FaceTime in and out – close ups of her lips, her eye – the one blue with copper fleck, the overrun garden in need of mulch, the golden pine needles of the neighbor’s tree, the muffled sound of Max calming families grieving, Ash tucked into the bottom of the sock drawer, his stripped, snakelike tail the only clue of his presence. Heather M. Sloane 2020-2021

Halloween Writing Workshop
October 24, 2020
Spooky Season

Its starting to get a little more strange out. It gets darker earlier and everything is so darky & gloomy. All the leaves are falling and the trees are starting to look more naked. The wind is a little bit more thing and harsh, while the sun is starting to fade away. The pumpkins are out and the costumes are starting to appear. Spiders,globlins, vampires are showing up more and more on everyone’s door. The spooky season is finally among us.

Uh Oh…

There are scary things that lurk in the dark. The shadows are lurking up behind you and there is strange chill running down your spine. There are whispers going past your ears, but who is there? You want to run but you can’t see anything ahead of you, it’s to dark. Just as your about to take your last breath. Something grabs you arm and then….

He was supposed to be dead…

He was supposed to be dead, but I saw his leg twitch. This cant be happening, how is he still alive. I have to kill him, I need to find something stronger this time. As I look around to find anything, I turn back around to look at him, but he is gone. What am I going to do? There’s nowhere to run or hide, I have to fight him, so I won’t die. I look find him standing behind me, just glooming. Its between me and him, who will survive? – Dai’Ja Banks – Fearless Writers 2020-2021

1. They say she’s a healer
left her doctrine
kneeling at the altar
dusted off the eucharistic crumbs
and stepped onto the fiery path
bathing in the moonlight and blood red leaves
her hands carry magic
she never knew to imagine
now she looks for the fog
settled above the trees
thick in her mouth
as a deer appears
majestic and still
drawn to the healer’s energy soul
she lifts her lands
wide open as if collecting earth dust
light flows in stars
filling the creature
with solace
and at once they know
they both
are healed

2. Once upon a time
the house was full
life and voice and movement
now empty
it sits
atop a barren hill
looked at only out of the corners of eyes
never daring a full gaze
the trees once were heavy with fruit
and green
and now they stand with roots so weak
they turn to dust in your fingertips
what happened to the family
will never be known
once upon a time
a man fell in love
built a house atop a low hill
put in fruit trees to grow
with his family
babies were born
a life built
then suddenly
nothing
the home began to change
from deep blue to gray
the grass grew
the fruit falling rotten in the weeds
the voices gone
the life disappeared
some would say the house moved
like breath in lungs
swelling a shrinking
but only when you turned away
not looking with your full gaze

3. he loved October and what it held
his birthday came early
costumed kids rang the doorbell
he loved the leaves
changing
reminding they were alive
just as him
but soon the leaves let go
leaving behind
bones of the trees
and he thought of his family
he was supposed to be dead
they mourned and held each other
that gray October day
thirty years before
his kids never knowing he was sick
only a phone call
we are calling to inform of a death
he would never know what took place
he awoke
somewhere he had never been
alone, yet whole
walking out the door
nothing familiar
excuse me
who am I
no one would answer
so he kept to himself
not noticing the icy draft
or hunger pains
only digging earth
to make a garden full of pumpkins
leaving a bowl of candy for trick or treaters
breathing prayers to the wind
longing for his family – Lori Lux – Fearless Writers Intern 2020 – 2021

Inspired by ‘I am a Black Woman’ by Mari Evans
October 12, 2020

Power is a Woman

In her stance is a confidence, power is a woman. In her face there is a story, a journey in her eyes, depth to every breath her nose releases. Her ears have taken in with every lesson learned and wisdom received, she is power. Power is a woman. The way she loves, teaches, nurses, and embraces her people. There is power. – Amariano Williams – Rogers High School 2020-2021

Strong as I am, I carry the load well. I take on the world, work, kids , husband and put myself where I fit in. I can take care of the family, community, and managing to do all the little things in between. We do it all and keep everything together, but when it’s all over who protects me? Dai’Ja Banks – Fearless Writers 2020-2021

Can I look at you and say
you are more than your tears?
more than the pain that comes
brick after brick
building you into a box so deep
you cannot pull yourself out?
Tell me how to make it better.
I am listening.
Can I listen? Cry? Go away?
Do I have a place in your experience?
I am a white woman and I battle
the unfair grip I get to have on my life
my freedom.
You are a black woman.
I see you. Lori Lux – Fearless Writers Intern 2020 – 2021

Inspired by Mari Evans ‘Celebration’
October 28, 2020

Together United

Bring everyone that you can, get everyone together. Everyone is welcome to join. The broken, whole, used, abused,loved and unloved, just bring them all. Gather everyone you can so we make each other whole again. Feel the love that we have to offer each other. Make this a celebration where all hearts gather together and become one. Dai’Ja Banks – Fearless Writers 2020-2021

How do you become whole?
So often we walk
heads down
eyes shadowed
feeling the weight of it all
and waiting
waiting for someone or something
to make us whole
to make you yourself
but aren’t you already?
why do we walk with a limp
as if half of ourselves
were left behind
we were born Good
we were born Whole
we were born to the Music
of ourselves
why have we stopped dancing? Lori Lux – Fearless Writers Intern 2020 – 2021

Inspired by Langston Hughes ‘Dream Dust’
October 14, 2020

Dream dust my own little slice of happy. My hopes and dreams are all I have. They seem so small but they mean the world to me. My dreams are all I have left to offer in this world. They are so special to me and that’s all that I have, so they can’t be for sale. Dai’Ja Banks – Fearless Writers 2020-2021

Here I’ll show you
the bits of yourself
that you left behind
never knowing you
leave a trail of stars
along your path
for the next person
to stop and notice the shine
pocket the star
and walk on
it reminds you of that moment
Ash Wednesday
knees to the rail
as the priest dips her fingers
and claims you with Earth Dust
of palm leaves
only to connect you then to the person on you left
ashes to ashes
finger to forehead
to neighbor – Lori Lux – Fearless Writers Intern 2020 – 2021

Inspired by Langston Hughes Freedom

Freedom is waking up and feeling good that your in a peaceful world or place Freedom is being able to look back in the past of the privileges you could’nt do back when you were younger to up the things you can do now. Freedom is being able to show love to the ones you care for or showing all the things that you are the most thankful for. Freedom is facing real exciting energy developing out of miracles – Amariano Williams – Rogers High School 2020-2021

To think of freedom as a seed – to have freedom is only the first part.

To know you are beautiful, worthy, strong is just the beginning.

It takes time to be nurtured to be soaked in acceptance, to feel the sunshine of praise, love is necessary to put down roots and to hold your head high.

To bask in freedom is not enough. To share freedom , to demand freedom for all takes courage and is necessary to maintain the feeling.

Freedom does not eliminate struggle it motivates a collective joy. It is a cycle – freedom brings joy and joy brings freedom. It is the joint practice of the cycle that eliminates the struggle, until all there is…is…is…is…is

To rob anyone of freedom is to rob us all. To rob anyone of freedom is the origin of pain and suffering, oppression. The solution could be rather simple. If we say so. Heather M. Sloane 2020-2021