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.
THE LEANING TOWER OF BOOKS
by Abbie Johnson Taylor
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.
Cheryl offers up a lovely intro and a poem with some clever rhyming. I hope you enjoy!
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…
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…
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.
(A short break in the TBR Challenge reblogs for a little poetry)
A Learned Girl
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.
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.
I’m delighted with the number of poems about TBR piles. Here’s some syllabic poetry from Gwen about her books waiting to be read, as well as a sweet look into her early love affair with books.
Hello blog friends! A colleague and writer friend, D. Wallace Peach, posted a challenge for writers to submit a poem or story about their To-Be-Read pile. If you are like me, that list is huge. Part of my problem is that I have eclectic interests and if I’m reading a story that involves an historical event or a medical conern, I’ll pause and research the topic.
When I was just a kid, the library was my favorite spot. We didn’t have many books on the farm, just the Bible and an Atlas. But I learned to dream with just these two. Then one day…
There is, in WordPress Land, a marvelous source of inspiration for writers, authors and poets. Her name is D. Wallace Peach. I offer this entry into her fantastically wonderful stories and to the opportunities she creates for the community of writers who connect with her through her blog called Myths of the Mirror.
To move us forward into the New Year she presents this challenge:
Write a story or poem about your TBR pile.
This is familiar territory for book lovers: TBR = “To Be Read”. The books that sit on your shelf waiting for you to get around to reading them. I have many such stacks and collections. So, even though I have never attempted a writing challenge, I felt compelled to jump in and add my voice. Thank you, Ms. Peach for providing the diving board!
Annika Perry’s muse ran wild with her story about cleaning out a TBR pile. Can you imagine that emptiness? See what happens and Enjoy.
They were all thoroughly fed up! Admittedly some would have phrased their feelings rather differently, an eloquent speech from the literary members, or perhaps a sonnet or haiku from the poetic ones. Whatever the term there was a revolution on the way!
The book pile-up in Maggie’s e-reader was catastrophic. That was the only word for it. Over one hundred books and some poor souls had languished for over ten years in the digital dungeon.
With bubbly byte of delightful data every novel, poetry book, each memoir or factual book had in innocence landed upon the confines of the little handheld device. Eager to be released from the darkness they waited … and waited.
Many of their comrades got the call and in a jiffy off they flew upon the screen. Oh, how the others they longed for the honour.…