Wrightings

  When I am in the city When I am downtown in the city especially near the towering buildings the street vendors, the traffic, and the crowds , they give off such hints of filth. I would almost say that we all deserve to die. I am so distant from hope  in which goodness, and discernment, ever existed in the world so I walk quickly, holding my bag tightly. Around me the throngs stir in their fast pace and call out, “Tourist, go home.” The disdain flows with each word. And they call again, “It’s simple,” they say, “you have to keep moving, don’t look up at the buildings, don’t block people trying to get somewhere, and  don’t be afraid to eat on the street.”

 March should hold no terrors, so they claim, Beneath the glow of full moon’s watchful eye; We count backward, reckon loss and gain, And whisper debts we fear we can’t deny. To Jupiter, great lord of sky and flame, Whose thunder shakes the hearts of mortal men, We cast our sacrifice, invoke his name, And pray misfortune shall not rise again. Yet shadows stir where trust once firmly stood, For closest hands may turn with hidden blade; In halls of power, masked by noble good, Ambition’s cost is dearly, darkly paid. Heed well the signs ignored in fateful hour— Pride invites the fall of mightiest power.

           WRIGHTINGS and friends celebrated poetry on PI day with PI-kus from Washington, D.C. to Washington State, from Minnesota to Corpus Christi, TX. Please enjoy and share the idea for next year! 

  I was bumped, tagged, notified  that we would be all a Glo for poems in 2026 we’re looking for a home a Facebook prod made me smile my words will be expelled not judged for more than  first pass through or  ‘New Shit!’ as some might refer to But it’s begun so let have fun plan your April writing this way and stop by here for some cheer of poems written each day

  They say you killed yourself, but don’t we all The pain thickened when your first husband called you fat even after you had the surgery he insisted upon.   The pain intensified    by your second husband loved you so much and worked so hard that he didn’t have time to be with you. And when you wanted to finally give him a child. He dropped dead of a heart heart attack.  The pain deepened as an alcoholic after the stomach surgery, which you were warned about.  The pain darkened because your mother needed assistance and you couldn’t give it  Then as your third husband used PTSD as his excuse for his affair and you finally came home to help — everything was already taken care of.  Everything except you. So as you tied    to piece together a life with the car given to you    in the home given to you, and the jobs given to you, your life became disposable.  Like all of ours.  For me, I give mine up little by little one ho...

  January 24, 2026 Dear Northern Weather The temperature is when I awoke at 6:30 am was a balmy 71°. I had my usual cup of coffee in bed, scrolled the internet for a few minutes, before getting dressed to walk my dog.  But, arrived. You’ve come to Corpus Christi on a breeze so strong it nearly blew me down. Before I got home at 7:30 AM it was 52 degrees. My bare arms and legs tinging. The temperature continued to drop, 32 by 4:00 pm.  I understand everybody likes to come south for the winter, but some are not welcome here. You frighten us with your frosty fingers and icy streets.  You nip our toes in our January sandals.  You have arrived. You may stay for one day only and then you must go. Please do not break too many pipes during your visit to our beaches.  Sincerely,  A South Texas resident