A NEw Call to Action: Call YOUR Senator about #RBG’s Replacement

Calico Jack has lots of reasons to call you MOC and Senators.

The Psy of Life

Howdy y’all!

22 SEPTEMBER: It’s been too long between updates to Call Your MoC, but #RBG’s passing has prompted the next installment, Call Your Senator about Replacing #RBG. Call your senator TODAY!

Call Your MoC About

Mea Culpa

This is my solution to the problems with trying to post about bills and issues that we as members of the informed electorate should be contacting our members of Congress about. A weekly column proved to be too much both timewise for a part-time blogger and a full-time citizen as well as taking up too much space on the front…

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Don’t go home tonight

TheFeatheredSleep – Please, stay


Don’t go home tonight

don’t leave this warm circle we built with our skin and bones

I killed an ant earlier and I felt badly

as I had watched it climb up a book and grab on to a little morsel

it has always made me feel remorseful for killing even the smallest creature

I don’t eat flesh for that reason

aside, you, I eat you, feast upon, alive and laughing your deep throated mirth

it never occurred to me one day I would have in my arms

the vibrating surround of a whole woman

the majesty of her glory, how she shifts like light

from somber to ejubilent in the fracture of a moment

women are not easy creatures, to tame a little, or keep satisfied

their minds, their bodies, are compartments of mystery

open the same drawer twice, out comes a different response

I will never understand or…

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Creativity Prompt Challenge: Mad World

A creative opportunity

Brave & Reckless

Like many of you, the last six months have taken a significant toll on me physically, emotionally, and cognitively.  I have been a sporadic blogger at best, sharing more information about Indie Blu(e) Publishing and other writers’ work than my own.  It has been so hard to decide what actually matters when 2020 keeps throwing punch after punch.  The loss of Ruth Bader Ginsberg yesterday has simply gutted me and has me feeling like I am living in a prequel to The Handmaid’s Tale.

I am thinking that many of us could use a creative outlet this week as our social media feeds are full of photos of orange skies, vitriol filled political rants, and fear for the future.  In honor of Pentatonix’ powerful and haunting cover released earlier this week, I have decided to host a ‘Mad World’ Creativity Prompt Challenge.  Hopefully it will help us write out some…

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The Great Lady has gone today. And tomorrow, the really sick & twisted games begin…

The Chatty One on a great loss

The Chatty Introvert

photo from commons.wikimedia.org

I saw a brief blip when I was scrolling through YouTube earlier (which I mostly had on for noise) and it said that Ruth Bader Ginsburg was gone. I didn’t react at first, just read the clip title and moved on.

I suppose I wasn’t ready to think on that. I just kept painting bookmarks and making coffee, anything to avoid clicking on those articles or video clips.

But now, I am. After sitting down and actually doing some searching, to see that there are multiple sources confirming it, I’m sitting on my couch with a big glass of wine, not sure if I plan on going numb or if I want to just start the screaming early.

This just seems like the all-too-perfect ending to a shitty news week. How many things have happened this week that just makes you rub your eyes and wonder what…

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TheFeatheredSleep – A touch lost to silence



I slept though I did not sleep

onboard the memory of you

wrapped around my legs

entwined we touched, we did things

in real life we would not

like thirsty vines found purchase

I wake hot with a sore-throat

for calling you in dream

you stay just far enough away to be

exquisite, painful

still, you are with me

all throughout this fatigued day

my hair matted with thought of your voice, your mouth

heart faster for desire unspoken

recollections like film reel

thin wrists, strong arms, long neck

slender back of an archer sending her arrow

colt legs as brown as sundown eclipsing

autumn leaves

the bedroom lure of your perfumed eyes

I saw it years ago and it pierced me

as keenly as a real knife might

cut through something willing and laid it open

to conquest

I said nothing then,

my tongue in my mouth


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