Chelsea offers up a short poem on her multi-layered TBR pile. I could post the whole poem here, but she’s worth a visit. A very funny lady who hosts a weekly Terrible Poetry Contest. It’s a hoot if you want to join in.
***
The tow’r beside my bed, you see
is quite the work of art
attempting to break all the charts
for manmade apogees….
(continue reading Here)
Ack, I meant this to post at 9AM and scheduled it for 9PM! But oh, are you in for a treat! Master storyteller Teagan Geneviene outdid herself with this one. Enjoy!
***
The letter came at last. On the back of the envelope was a blob of green wax, sealed with the royal crest. Beulah Andraste swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. Hands shaking, she ripped the paper while trying to open the missive.
“Look at you, woman!” Beulah’s reflection chided her. “Nervous and weak-kneed as a girl. You’re teasing yourself. What foolishness for you to apply to be the Great Drake’s reader. You already know that envelope contains a rejection. And worse still to be accepted! As soon as your dried-up old voice creaks, the old serpent will roast and eat you.”
“Don’t be silly,” she told herself.
“Silly? You know there is a reason why there are frequent calls for new readers! And just look at you. The Great Drake collects more than just books. It hoards beautiful things. Shiny new, pretty things. You are old and disgusting,” came the reflections of her true thoughts.
Turning her back, the old woman walked stiffly to her table. She glanced at the single bookcase that held her treasures — twenty or so books that she had read dozens of times.
She had not applied in hope of the posh accommodations, or the status and admiration accorded the royal readers. No, Beulah simply desired to read the books amassed by the Great Drake. She sat down on the hard chair and perused the letter beneath the royal seal. She gasped!
“Beulah Andraste, your application has been processed. You have been…
(Continue Reading Here)
Dharkanein shares a poem about some TBR struggles that many of us can relate to. Happy Reading!
***
History and historical fiction
Lie on top of all
The books that describe romance
Come next to horror and thrill
Biographies, self help, non-fictions
And travel stories with memoirs
Lie just below them
Or shall I say…
(continue reading Here)
Abbie has a teetering pile of audiobooks! I hope you enjoy her poem. 🙂
Today, I’m taking a challenge from a blog called Myths of the Mirror to write about your to-be-read (TBR) pile. Below is a poem I wrote about piles of books past and present. You can click the link below the poem to hear me read it.
by Abbie Johnson Taylor
Copyright 2022
In my youth, before Kindle and Audible,
it stood on my coffee table,
threatening to fall at any minute,
a pile of green boxes containing books on cassettes
borrowed from my regional talking book library.
I read one or two, then added one or two more,
never ran out of books.
Now, there’s no leaning tower
but a list of titles in my Kindle, Audible and other libraries.
I read one or two, then acquire one or two more,
will never get through them all in one lifetime.
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Cheryl offers up a lovely intro and a poem with some clever rhyming. I hope you enjoy!
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Good morning friends! In my current state of inspiration, I decided to follow Dan’s lead and participate in the writing challenge hosted by Myths of the Mirror. Dee’s prompt for today is #TBR. Visit her blog at the link to get details about how her system works.
In short, TBR refers to those lonely books waiting patiently for us to turn or return our attention to them. While most folks say they don’t use e-readers, I am different in that I do both. I love a great book in hand, smelling the pages, looking at the illustrations, seeing the typed print on the page, etc. But in my current circumstance it is not possible to have all my treasured friends with me so I must depend on the electronic readers I have. Notice I said ‘readers’, as in plural…
(continue reading Here)
Lenora’s TBR pile thinks she’s shirking her duties. I hope you enjoy her response to the prompt. Happy Monday!
This is part of Diana from Myths of the Mirror‘s writing challenge for January. Check it out here!
My TBR
My TBR is tottering over me. She has claws, and stern eyebrows, drawn tightly towards each other.
Some would call it a monobrow.
She wears tweed, and always looks so very cross.
Brown clothes, brown hair, whisked back into a knot.
Oh the tightest knot you ever saw.
My TBR is tall.
So tall that her shadow looms over my shoulder whenever I deign to do something she doesn’t approve of. Which, come to think of it, is EVERYTHING.
I wonder what makes her so mean?
Dan Antion brings us a great short story. His challenge is keeping his wife happy while also keeping his books within easy reach. Read on to learn his clever solution. Enjoy!
This little bit of fiction was created for the “TBR Pile Challenge” fromD. Wallace Peach. Writing fiction on demand, as it were, is not easy for me. However, I do enjoy it when I have a subject that suits me. I have been working on some serious fiction projects, and I am finding it easier to dig in when challenged. Thanks to Diana for a prompt that bounces between two things I enjoy – reading and woodworking.
On Top of the Basket
After a loud knock to let me know she was coming, in case I was using a power tool, she enter the shop. She had brought me a new cup of coffee, but her expression told me there was more to this visit.
“Here, I figured your coffee was gone or cold…” She blew a small pile of sawdust off the top of my to-go cup…
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Aroosa shares her treasure of gems… her books in this poem about her TBR pile. Enjoy.
A pile of gems
“To be read” as they are called
resting on my shelves.
Just off one more burden
and I shall commence
to feed my soul with them.
This commitment to self
every time I device
Being a part of that race
where everyone must chase
career, success, love
or maybe to owe allegiance
to the circumstances
for, if I choose to exit
the race that defines
I shall be left to efface
The gems- waiting for me to embrace
long enough by now-wearing off
a layer of dust
covering their shine
as I see them weep_
or maybe, it isjust
my soul weeping
and reflectingthrough
the long-kept gems.
-Aroosa Zamarud
A lovely poem from Her Nightly Muses. Those TBR piles do call to us. Enjoy!
I can hear you
Groaning
Every time I tiptoe past you
I know that the burden
I’ve placed on your shoulders
Matches the burden
I’ve amassed in my phone
My kindle, my bookcase
Forever collecting
Piling
Instead of filing
Like washed and dried clothes
All types
Every genre
I’m no snob
I’m a hoarder
Their pages
Quietly teeming
Biblio-screaming
Full of wonders
Filled with dreamings
Intrepid, informing
But gathering dust
Their mistress
Steps hasten
Cannot stop to reassure them
Failing to resolve
Their need for
Having eyes
Engage core
Book hoard
Shelves of treasures
Every realm comes to clamour
Tolkien
Stephen King
Christie and Bronte
Some of Chaucer
Bits of Carroll
Snippet of Shakespeare
Tippet of Austen
Beatrix Potter leaning on George
Orwell and Martin
Even a Picoult
Crammed in with some Wilde
All the others
Squeezed and crowded
Choking out that
Their pages can’t breathe
Ashamed
I don’t look…
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(A short break in the TBR Challenge reblogs for a little poetry)
She is fortunate to read at all. Her slender fingers stray from the pages, unblemished but for a random papercut. Beyond her window, other women toil until their skin toughens into leather, and raw knuckles wear down to bones. Their spines crack beneath the weight of necessity, poor lots destined from the day they were born. She is privileged. This she knows. Granted by happenstance her wish to learn the arts of anatomy and history and politics. To peruse through pages of poetry and philosophy, to dip her quill and tally accounts. She will excel in the learned world of power. But she is still a girl.
studies surrender
lost in red velvet daydreams
murmurs of passion
love’s silk breath blushes her cheeks
wishes in a crystal ball
*
Thank you to Colleen over at Wordcraft Poetry for the lovely image to use as an prompt for this week’s Ekphrastic poetry. Ekphrastic poems respond to a piece of art. I went with a tanka prose poem. It has one paragraph and one tanka with 5/7/5/7/7 syllables.
Myths of the Mirror 