Quiet Rage


A quiet rage, felt 
as each word 
bled upon the page.
  
The keys succumbed, 
as she pounded out the passion 
of her emotions.
  
The white page, 
dirtied with ink, 
poured from her veins;
 
her fervor, 
a torrential flood.  

Each falsehood, 
each deception, 
released amid the black letters 
carried along behind the cursor.  

The innocence.  

Once, 
a clean view of the world, 
heaved up like a sick dog.  

That pure vision, 
flung carelessly aside.  

She wrote for the 
pain 
of it 
being torn from her.

The keyboard let her
scream
and cry
and curse.

Ignoring the 
polite 
civilities of 
society.   

The filth 
her heart now consumed, 
left her feeling vile, 
empty and diseased.  

The words, 
an outlet, 
for the injustices 
of her past.

Copyright (C) 2019 Penny Wilson

*The words “quiet rage” came to me and would not let go of me until I did something with them.  

Cranky, Crabby People


Ok, I’ve had a little backlash over a post I did on Internet Dating.  You can find it HERE.    Geeeze!  You just can’t say anything anymore without someone getting their panties in a bunch!  I KNOW that women are just as bad as men are out there.  I even state that in the first paragraph of the post.  If it looks like I took a female point of view on this, well damn!  I’M FEMALE!

I tried to make this post light-hearted and humorous.  If something like this gets you all shook up, you’ve got bigger problems than just finding a date!

If you leave me nasty comments, you are wasting your time because they will not be seen.  They will be swiftly deleted! 

Happy Wednesday My Friends!  🙂  Penny

Intimate Endeavours – In the Dark 3


If you are unfamiliar with Michael’s work, you are in for a treat! This often naughty, irreverent, and funny man is also extremely talented!

Afterwards

Another month of M’s writing prompts lies ahead.  I did them all in December but was less successful in January.  Let’s see how we do in February shall we.  These pieces tend to be excerpts and flashes of something that could be.  The exploration of an idea…

You can see the prompts here.


He pens soft verse and longs for hours

and buys her gifts then sends her flowers

and writes of walks in April showers

His love and longing born

His hearts desire is not reflected

in her look, he stands rejected

her response not as expected

And so he stands forlorn

Perhaps, he thinks, this is the game

I’ve been too sweet, he does proclaim

and confident, her heart to tame

Craves rose but feels the thorn

But every time he is refused

his heart in tatters ego bruised

lost and angry frail and used

And hate spring…

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Siblings


There were four of us kids growing up.  I’m the only girl.  I love my brothers.  I really do.  I even loved them, admired and respected them when we were children.  But this (the picture above) is usually what most interactions looked like between me and my brothers.

We fought horribly!  All. The. Time.

I’m sort of in the middle in birth order.  I have 2 older brothers and one younger one.  My poor, sweet younger brother…  Since I could not direct my anger at my older brothers, I aimed my hatred for the male species at him.

Continue reading “Siblings”

Finding Inspiration


Despair makes for an interesting muse.   I write a wide variety of things.  Poetry, short stories, fiction and non fiction.  I find that my sad or darker stuff is usually better than something that is more light-hearted.  I also find that I seek out the keyboard more readily if I am in a darker place than if I’m happy, as a way to express myself.

I have a theory about why this is the case.

Continue reading “Finding Inspiration”