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Twirl: A Poem

White Scarf Spinning Woman

Twirl for Today. Photo Source: Bennington Purcell, CC BY 4.0, via Flickr.

Twirl

Commit to the moment of
Now,
Twirling your mind along with
Your body,
In a relay race in which everyone wins.

You spin while you
Smile,
Soaking in the rays of acceptance
That flash around your
Divine soul.

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Book Review: Accursed Women by Luciana Cavallaro

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Accursed Women by Luciana Cavallaro (it’s on my bookshelf now!). Photo by Poetic Parfait.

Bring on the book reviews!

I plan to do one from now on every time I finish a book. It will be a new feature for my site. I’ve done a few in the past here, but I plan to do them more regularly now. I hope you enjoy them!

I recently finished reading Accursed Woman by Luciana Cavallaro. It contains five short stories that are all loosely based on Greek myths. Each myth has a female at its center, which is where the title of the book originates.

I found the concept of the book to be quite creative! While the author could have chosen to focus on retelling the Greek myths, she instead puts a spin on them that is playful and intriguing. For example, imagine a grandfather telling his two grandchildren about Pandora, Epimetheus and Zeus around a kitchen table in the present-day world. That is the basis for one of the stories in Accursed Women.

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November’s Guest Storyteller, Christy Birmingham

Christy Birmingham:

I am excited to debut this flash fiction piece as the November storyteller over at Sarah Potter Writes! I hope you enjoy the read of my story “Shoveling Conversation.”

~Christy xo

Originally posted on Sarah Potter Writes:

Christy Birmingham 600x600

Christy Birmingham is a poet, author and freelance writer in British Columbia, Canada. Her debut poetry collection Pathways to Illumination is available exclusively at Redmund Productions. If you haven’t been by her blog Poetic Parfait yet, check it out. You can also find Christy on Twitter.

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Shoveling Conversation

We stood, I threw onions, we never left… in our minds.

It was Thursday, and we weren’t any more drunk than usual. Only a few bottles of Merlot in and already Alex was throwing words my way that amounted to a hit that felt like a shovel to the face.

“You can’t tell me that,” he said. “You told me – you said you wanted to give her up for adoption. How was I to know you didn’t mean it?”

I didn’t hear anything other than give her up for adoption. His mouth moved in ways that I wish…

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