Letter to the Editor
By Charles Brooks III A man said to the universe: “Sir, I exist!” “However,” replied the universe, “The fact has not created in me A sense of obligation.” “A Man Said to the Universe” -Stephen Crane … Hear my problem, Old Man: I wear the world, anguished by its lacking. I write. I write so others might wail as well. They don’t. I do. That’s the problem.
December 11, 2014From the Archives: “Dancing for Exercise” (3rd Place Winner in Poetry)
Dancing for Exercise By Barbara Loyd When my parents divorced our move ended my tap and ballet dance classes; now, decades later, a new opportunity to dance at the YMCA has rekindled my passion. Offerings such as tap, ballet, belly and Latin Dance tantalized me. It became hard to choose, so I signed up for all classes. For four days a week I perform tap routines, plies, and Sambas with lively groups of women, some older, most younger. We give it our all, fascinated to see our progress move from awkward to graceful after a few weeks. I cannot keep my feet or hips still once the music starts. Now, the rhythm in my soles finds expression. Others like to exercise using machines, but my ...
August 13, 2012The Plucky, Lucky Grasshopper
The Plucky, Lucky Grasshopper By Lucy Redding On a summer’s drive down ’95, A hitchhiker took his place. He was browny-green and barely seen, Till noticed by keen-eyed Grace. A little grasshopper, just one inch long, Apparently wanted to come along, As we drove to town from country. He must have thought he was running late – Perhaps for dinner, perhaps for date – So as we zoomed down the interstate, He managed to cling to the window. Grace and I were safe inside, But much more daring, he chose to ride Outside, on the window. How did he do it? We started to wonder, For surely ...
February 28, 2012Armor
Armor by Gila Heller raw onions attended my father's funeral they sat in the back of the sanctuary and listened with bulbous ears to the eulogies by then I was accustomed to the stinging pain of onion eyes but I had never known the bitter aftertaste of death I started cooking because I loved food because my mother was always too tired to cook because I didn't want to live on casseroles made by well-meaning family I started cooking because the drugs that prolonged my father's life also had some nasty side effects and for weeks he couldn't swallow I started cooking because my father had loved food because I imagined that he had forgotten what it felt like to chew dinner instead of ...
October 4, 20112011 Watch Me Bounce Contest Results
Watch Me Bounce is pleased to announce the winners for our debut "Resilience" Writing Contest. We received scores of submissions from around the world, and were introduced to many passionate writers with important stories to tell. Below you'll find our picks for first place fiction story, first place true life story and first place poem. Accompanying each winner is a Critique conducted by the Editors of Watch Me Bounce and the contest judges. We congratulate the three winners and thank all the writers for submitting. There were many entrants with great stories to share but unfortunately we could pick only one winner for each category. Contest Judges: Linda Penhall (Fiction, True Stories); ...
September 4, 2011Poetry Winner: The Broken House by Neni Iryani
The Broken House By Neni Iryani Raspy whisper of wind is still rumbling through a house fallen into a ruin one night storm made it rubble-- salient proof of fall. I now rare to know if resiliency will rummage the broken house!
September 4, 2011