Published in Scuzzbucket·PinnedBrow Catches FireOn seeing myself in the oil lamp — Blue smoke billows from the corner of my mouth. Eyes fixed, intent on yellow glare, Into the reflection of a lamp I stare. Blown glass and faded weary light render my face contorted. Brow catches fire, cheek is concave, and the imagery is all lost with the burden of translucence. …Poetry1 min read
Published in Scrittura·May 18Shadows and WineWednesday Prose Poem: Talk to Yourself — I’m the ventriloquist. My voice inhabits reflective devices. Through the bathroom mirror, it says “Hey that serum has brightened your skin!” “Thank you, I most agree,” I chirp. “And look at you! Up at six to hit the gym! Get rid of that belly!” the mirror exclaims. It fist pumps…Prose4 min read
Published in Scrittura·May 15PearlsSaturday Poetry Prompt: Take it from JD — The evening gas lamps stand in a row like soldiers with their heads on fire. Black cobblestones absorb the misty light. The alleys are pitch, and the fountain is dried up, so the revelers come out to clink steins and strike matches. Frosty hands toss crispy, tinkling coins high into…Surrealism2 min read
Published in The Brain is a Noodle·May 14Dark Rainy StreetsWhat can someone do for you when you are hurt? — Dim bulb in the fog, Love is now wet, ruddy cheeks. Do you see me all alone? Child, dark rainy streets Run down your cheeks, letting me Find you, run to you, hold you. Josie Elbiry, 2022 A Sedoka is a two stanza poem, and each stanza has three lines…Poetry1 min read
Published in Paper Poetry·May 7Mothers to ManyEven if you’ve never had one, you’ve had plenty — Open your hearts you who feel motherless and brace against the dawn, Armed to the teeth, cheated and snuffed resenting a void. Recall and recount, for on each little finger a mother stands, open and soft, sent to you no less by God than had you been born by her. …W 11 Prompt2 min read
Published in Scrittura·May 1Breaking PointSaturday Poetry Prompt: provoking the theatrical — My day-dream self was a champion water-skier by age ten, horizontal to the water on a razor edge. She held close the fantasy of being a doctor or a writer or a baseball star. …Depression2 min read
Published in The Howling Owl·Apr 6RamadanA portrait of the Central African Republic — A snapshot bares the veiled face of a child. Giggling eyes and a faraway smile tell the tale of one born to live this way and no other. The whole world is merely one house, two houses with thatched roofs and noisy goats. The dome of bright blue and sunshine reach only…The Howling Owl1 min read
Published in Scrittura·Mar 2SwallowSaturday Prose Prompt: Soothing Fires — Obsession is a wandering ghost with arms like undulating ropes in a trick show, rattling chains, allowing me to doze only to shake me to waking. Taking snapshots, a torture upon the hour as the clocks smack out their tick tocks like the chewing gum of a haughty young girl…Love2 min read
Published in Genius in a Bottle·Mar 1Wedding BandsGiaB writing prompt #2–13: jewelry — “I have sold all of my jewelry, and some of yours, too,” he said on a recent call. “All I have left is my wedding band.” When I left Lebanon, we said “I love you” and kissed because it was familiar. He urged me to be careful because he had always treated me like a child, and I had always let him. It was October 2020, the beginning of what should have been a two-month stay…Giabprompt4 min read
Published in The Brain is a Noodle·Feb 21Last Week’s WinterSnow holds on to our dreams, and releases them to Earth in the spring — Writing is a foreigner who’s bumped into me on the street without saying sorry, or excuse me, as my food tumbles to the pavement and rolls away in the rain. Creativity, the dragon’s lair that once lured me, fizzled to a snuff, and just let me crawl away from the scattered, pitter-patter applause that…Life Lessons2 min read
