Wander, Wonder, Wake
Inspired by the letter W.
We wild warriors wait. Watching wallowing worlds wilt while wicked wealth whirl wars. What wool will wolves wear? War wheels will weave, weighing winners with wasted wrongs. Wayward wounds which weapons wreak, wishing waters would wash what was. What's worthy without worry? Why wrestle with wasted welders who wreak weaponry? Whose whining woke winter? Who? What wretched wolf works with waste without worry what will wane within? Wandering words which whisper woes. Winds will worsen, winds will wisp ways whirling, weakening wings. Widowed wombs wait wondering when wretchedness will weaken. Wise words woven within while we withhold wishes. Wishing what worlds will wake.
About the Creator
Julianne Algueseva
Just your friendly neighborhood writer and craftswoman. Doing all what I can to spread kindness and creativity throughout this wide world. I enjoy reading fiction and non-fiction books, as well as writing from my own life's journeys.
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The stinky old man
~ I wish this was just a funny, fictional poem but it is not. This poem is based on experiences both my mother and myself went through. I could write more but I really don't want to stir up my PTSD. This poem was written in 2012 when my mom was several months into dating Mr. Tony. I published it about a year later on my blog. I know this person was one of my mom's friends back in highschool but still, time can change anyone. As she put it towards the end of their relationship, "he was not the man she once knew." Almost for a four year period both of us saw how toxic this individual was. Mom went through a lot of hell with him. She really tried to help build their relationship but things only got worse. I know the poem doesn't explain the other nightmare incidents that occurred at my moms house and at my apartment. Over this course of time, we noticed that not only was he a narcissist he was also a liar and a manipulator. Tony hurt my mother in so many ways, and some of these she still wont discuss with me but only with her therapist and doctors. I can only imagine what horrors he put my mother through. I am still grateful to this day that he didn't put her in the morgue. Several times she came so close to death because of this man and his so-called ‘needs’. The apartment was one thing but hurting my mother was another story within itself. I am also grateful mom kicked him out when she did and brought me back home. I still pray that the woman that he's with now sees what a monster Tony truly is before its too late. I hope he does not hurt her or her family members. No soul should put up with this kind of behavior. Without further adieu, here’s the poem.
By Julianne Algueseva3 years ago in Poets
Getting Serious About Comedy (Part I)
If I were asked to remark on my life and the childhood that paved some road leading me to this point, I would have to say something about all the funny people who surrounded me for the last 26,872 days (and counting). Somewhere along that road, I became a big fan of laughter and the comedy that spawns it – and, I mean not only my own laughter, but the laughter of others, some of which I have actually been responsible for inducing.
By John Oliver Smith7 days ago in Humor
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