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Members of the Month!

Members of the Month Member of the Month by Scarlettletters


Tanka Set 91.
to embrace
a lover's warmth . . .
in flowers
in a cool glass
of apple ice wine
oh! so many ways
to slowly measure
our short time:
    a clock's hands
    the body of night sky
needing fellowship . . .
two small children
endlessly agaze
at the sun's glimmer
from light years away
this galactic meadow
rolling across darkness
while the world goes on
I slip into silence
camellia pressed
into murky water . . .
    my grandmother stares
    asks me again
    who I am
watching planes
disappear into gray . . .
how I long
for my own piece
of unencumbered sky
teaching lessons
on the subtle ways
to feel a lover's presence
    these shoots of wild ivy
    now atop the clock tower
morning glories
curled around the banister
all the petals
of my young life
finally unfurling
Tanka Set 101.
lost amid
this shutdown
in America
all these tanka
with mouths to feed
how lost . . .
early morning
somewhere atop
the trinkets
to fruitful lives
now lost
we toast to memories
of rusted pennies
where is
this looming promise
of change?
    the stray cats at play
    lifeless baby squirrel
so sunny this noon
near Capitol Hill . . .
a man jumps
wades through rivers
of strewn litter
trying hard
to write
compelling tanka . . .
I look at myself
how I've effected change
how does one
a broken gate
with cracked hammers
with planks of tired wood
adorn the piano casing . . .
new blooms at ease
in the cadence
of a lover's hands
country meadow
growing ever longer
each blade
never afraid
of the end of days
atop thunderclouds
I am lost
in early morning
Tanka Set 111.
night already
has taken over
the harbor
still covered
with snow and ice
five minutes . . .
the kettle
has cooled
has cooled
has disappeared
my cat
the adventurer
on the face
of my face
slow meander
through New York . . .
off snow, the sun
brightens everything
the meadow
all this winter
covered with snow . . .
the comely lovers
begin to sprout
how fast
the peregrine . . .
shadows at dawn
over the great hill
and into the valley
from the air
bodies appear
as if in paintings
    tiniest of dots
    all so vibrant
from my office
an obscured view
of morning sky . . .
just enough blue
to dream of more
- complete -
Villanelle Penned on the Cusp of a New WorldChildren follow you, hoping they will learn to soar, fly
on warm winds of dream. America, witness how far
you've fallen. How quickly you've forgotten Holden's rye
martyrdom, his gift to youth, as he sought to defy
Charon and the precipice of innocence. You scar
our children by letting them follow blindly. They fly
as well as any clipped bird, praying they endure dyes
of soot and snow, skin fissures induced by night. The stars
in their bodies lead with neither light nor warmth. The rye,
to which some turn, does the trick. It makes the strays decry
their masters, then lets them rest. Others begin to spar.
Some children still follow, scrawling, making pencils fly
along the paper's face. For what? To be doused in lye,
left screaming in ditches by the wayside? You are harming
these small bodies by leading this way. Turn them from rye
to stone path, let them strum the lute strings. Do not make lies
to these babies; they have no view of flame beyond hearth.
They will follow blindly, wa


Amber Hueswarm hued swirls
swept from west-south-west
tattered clouds streaming
this orange flitters east
…the butterfly rebels
The Orchid BrewA hardy folk of weathered hand
Which roam the steppes and grazing lands
The Ottoman
It came to them, a folkish brew
Tubular roots and slender stalk
And blooms of royal hue
The legends grew…
Imbued it’s said with potent power
The Orchis strength on scented beds
Within a lover’s bower
Salep, salep
The common folk eschewed such views
Had plainer cause to make their brews
Powdered tubers for drinks to sweet
With orange spice or silken rose
Here’s a drink to warm a heart
And take the chill from night
A heady fare to charm a tongue
With flavors to delight
EmbrocationOften as a healing balm, soothing flesh and nature
Aging monarchs held a custom, conquering lands in yester-days
– culture then of different sort; by modern mores, unswayed
To bed a host of lissome maids, their visage pure and spotless
Strumming harps and singing songs of aching love mellifluous
No dalliance these before his throne, nor flash akin scintilla
But trophies of majestic power, warming chamber silks at night
And sweetening regal bower
Revolution's End by rlkirkland

Outstanding Works:

Dead Skin DeepMom juts
from the morgue's grey face,
a flesh-and-steel tongue.
The mortician's a magician,
the plucked sheet flung for dead skin to spiral
through the gloaming's red wine. Mom's flecks mix with strangers'
in this atheist shrine. Liquid moons,
what my cataracts fired off warm cheeks,
splatter on stiff, grey terrain,
densely layered sheets of bloodless epidermis.
I rake her dead hair: it feels alive.
Pulseless split ends grow longer where no longer inspirations derive;
so I've read.
"Nothing ever really dies," the mortician said.
the man who offered peaches to the mooni was meant to be a painting
in a world where crocodile glitter
and the taste of sequins greet
each other hustling on the corner
i forgot my path club-
                  diving in the night
all the pools were
                 spiked      i hoped
someday the starlit highway would explode
and it would rain
               husks, so
i went back to the place where we first met,
my torn suit and the worst of business attire,
my wet palms and the rustiest of escape
i went back to the place where we met
and your cheeks were so round
and glistening with fat
i went back to our pentagonal arena,
cctv tinsel pythons were glaring at me
and i heard "streams of garbage will finish these streets"
i had grown out of peach fuzz but you
seemed so naive then
i stretched out my hand
and the stars,
and the stars took out their tiny cameras
Tired eyes lever themselves open,
moonbeam melted tranquility
sliding down the waking drain;
The onslaught begins.
Pillow buried faces contorting,
phantom expressions of twisted rage
branding screaming flesh;
You should have stopped him.
Salted nectar bleeding slow,
screwed up eyes watching all
through tightly squeezed shut lids;
You blocked it for a reason.
Desperate for annihilation,
scarlet tendrils sharp and lithe
crave teasing oblivion;
Please make it stop.
Exhaustion takes over,
relieved respite warm and welcome
as consciousness slips away;
Please let me forget.
The Gentle are the Strong“But her finger burned,” I said, dazed, when they came in the evening to tell me about my sister’s death by fire.
I remembered it: the brown diya filled with a pool of oil with a white thread running through it, the flame making the oil look like liquid gold. My sister’s hesitant finger had hovered on top of the flame, callused from sewing, but no less elegant, before it settled firmly in the middle of the flame.
Then, her gasp of pain, and the way she'd snatched her finger back.
One of the gora officials looked at me, his eyebrows coming down. My comment must have been nonsensical to him. “I think you had better sit down,” he said, gently, in an English so English, I found it hard to understand. Once I'd haltingly translated that, I sat down, and prayed he wouldn’t say what he did next, to no avail. “I’m sorry for your loss, child. I heard she was a good woman.”
I flinched. The word sati meant good woman, I knew
Three Movements of Noise In Voice Speech and SoundVoice - Black Noise
i hear █████████ my name
███████████ the ████ damn thing
is █████ one thing ██████████████
i'm ██████ tired of ████████
███████████ the ████████████
█████ sweet talk sound███████
when I don't ███████ need
my heart starts slowing ██████
██████████████ me
Berlin sightseeingNikolaiviertel
I lie where tiles, cobblestones and linden trees used to bloom: buried deep and deeper yet, as the new town regrows over the old. I don't remember the light. I am the interior of the bar behind doors taped closed, a yellow band and windows shut with cardboard, naked plaster walls, the floor covered by newspaper sheets speckled with sneaker soles in chalk. It was worse than this, I can tell you, it reeked; a man took me from my mother's hands and lifted me over his shoulders where there might be some fresh air left, and I banged my head against the ceiling of the shelter. The flowered balconies and the brightly painted façades are enough to trick people like you, eyes and hearts. So that you take photographs and buy postcards - one euro per each or a batch of ten for seven euros - of the same spot you have taken your own photograph of.
Zitadelle Spandau
My voice is recorded on paper and ink, the paper becomes yellow and torn at the edges and tiny circ










About submitted work that is not put in our gallery...

1. Did you refer to the submission guidelines governing acceptance and rejection? The gallery contributors are obligated to base their decisions on acceptance using these guidelines.

2. Did you inquire to the group as to why your specific submission was rejected? You have every right to request an explanation. It is reasonable to expect that anyone voting to reject your piece should be prepared to defend their decision. However,contributors are not obligated to specifically respond to your request for explanation of submission rejection and/or may choose to simply direct you to the general guidelines.

3. Do you feel like you submitted your very best work? Perhaps you were asked to participate in this group based on the strength of other works in your gallery.

4. Is the person that invited you to the group a contributor for the specific gallery to which you submitted your piece? Perhaps you were invited by a contributing member who is a big appreciator of your work, but does not vote in the gallery category where you chose to submit your piece.

5. Did you consider re-submitting your piece to the Critique Requested gallery? Contributors may choose to provide in-depth feedback and ideas for improvement on your piece.

Group Info

Joining and submitting:

In order to join, you need at least three pieces of literature in your gallery.

Submissions are limited to one per day. Only members of the group may submit work. Please submit to the appropriate folder, and do not submit to Featured.

We are not an exclusive group. We do, however, want your best work. We want poetry and prose that says something - tells a story; evokes a mood or memory; stirs an emotion; takes the reader out of him or herself. Only finished work, please - and only what you consider to be your best.

If your work is declined, please contact us and we will be happy to explain. Critique is time consuming and not always met favorably; therefore, we would prefer you tell us if you want it. If your work is declined, do not take it personally.

As members, please only critique the works that ask for it. And if you do, please be respectful - no flaming or negativity. Please use constructive criticism only.

Poetry: Your poem should aim to: "Convey experience(s), ideas, or emotions in a vivid and imaginative way. It should be characterized by the use of language which is selected for sound and suggestive power. While cliche is not always 100% avoidable, it should be at a minimum.

Meter, metaphor, alliteration, personification and/or rhyme, for example, can all be used to aid effective delivery, interpretation, readability and heighten sheer reading pleasure. Fixed form in particular should have a consistent meter and free verse should flow easily. Imagery is very important and we do look for it, especially used in unusual ways.

Prose: We accept all genres of prose except fanfic, character profiles, and erotica. With horror - please make sure your gore factor is intrinsic to the plot and not for its own sake. We want a story, not a blood bath. Originality, creativity, imagery all are important.

Submissions which, (in the opinion of the group's relevant reviewers), demonstrate the following attributes will be rejected (compassionately):

"Trite, unimaginative, weak, stale, lifeless, lack-luster, poor spelling, poor grammar, the extended and detrimental use of simple, monosyllabic wording".

We are asking that you not submit work that is trite, stale, cliche or employs the use of simple, monosyllabic wording or phrasing. Please keep spelling and grammatical errors to a minimum. We are not grammar police, but writing is more enjoyable when it flows well.

Please note that this list is not exhaustive. It is simply intended as a guideline.
Founded 3 Years ago
Aug 30, 2010


Group Focus

1,297 Members
1,187 Watchers
72,782 Pageviews
Daily Pageviews
For the month of April we have four great pieces each from jswebb and rlkirkland and we have six pieces from six of our other talented members. Each piece is a wonderful revelation in the art of poetry or prose. Check these works out and give each of their galleries a sweep; you will not be disappointed. Also be sure to give each of them well deserved congratulations!

We here at Word-Smiths hope the Spring sun finds you and delights you. Be safe and be well.
More Journal Entries

Gallery Folders

Colors Contest
Poetry - Free Verse
Poetry - Fixed Forms
Poetry - Eastern and Haiku
Poetry - Romance and Erotica
Poetry - Experimental
Prose - General Fiction
Prose - Erotica and Romance Closed
Prose - Sci-Fi and Fantasy
Prose - Horror and Mystery
Contest Prompts
DDs and DLDs
Poetry - Horror
Concrete Poetry
Flash Fiction
Prose - Essays and Reviews

Newest Members



Add a Comment:
BlackBowfin 8 hours ago  Hobbyist Writer
Hello there.  Much and many thank yous for the request and featuring of Our Weight and Ropes.
rlkirkland 5 days ago  Hobbyist Writer
Thank you for the honor of being included in "Member of the Month' feature. :faint: And I can't imagine anyone I'd rather share a plug with than jswebb; a most astute fellow!
As usual this group features a great variety of work of high caliber:
Congratulations all! :sun:
And congratulations to you, Ronald! You are both very wonderful writers. :nod:
fableweaver55 Feb 28, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
Thank you for accepting me in this group :)
flummo Feb 5, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
Thank you for requesting science & faith! :heart:
Thanks so much for the request! I'm honored!
WindFragments Jan 6, 2014  Hobbyist General Artist
Thank you for the request :hug: :)
You're quite welcome. :)
bookloverblue Dec 9, 2013  Hobbyist Writer
Do you accept scripts?
I'll jump in here with my unofficial two cents. We don't have a policy stating *no scripts* but the problem is getting enough voters who have the time to read through lengthy submissions. So while you can technically submit them, it may be some time before you get a decision.
Add a Comment: