Thursday, May 31, 2018

...On Poetry and Fiction - Just "One Word" Away (Mirrors)


       
            One word becomes one idea, becomes one sentence, becomes one poem, becomes one story. It must start from just “one word”. Today my one word is “Mirrors”.

                                                            MIRRORS   (The Fiction)

            As I walked past the old antique shop, the only one in the neighborhood, I stopped to peek into the window. I love antiques. Every item told a story. Whether it was a piece of wooden furniture, an old tarnished photo frame, a worn out clock, a porcelain doll, chipped serving platters, ornate jewelry, or exquisite vases, it didn’t matter. There was a special tale hidden within each item that held the secrets of its time and the emotions of its owners. These pieces came to life within the walls of the antique shop.

            Suddenly, my eyes came across an attractive elderly woman who stood in front of a long armoire mirror and stared at her reflection for quite a long time. I watched as she turned and twisted, moved closer and farther away again, then stood still and stared into it for a second time. She leaned in closer and gazed at her face. She ran her aging fingers across her forehead, her cheeks, her lips, her chin…then pressed out the many folds and wrinkles she discovered around her eyes.  When she turned to walk away, she noticed me staring at her, and invited me into the shop with a wave of her hand. As I approached her, she asked me to stare into the mirror and tell her what I saw. I said I saw a reflection of “me”. She asked how old I was. I told her I was twenty-five. She replied, “When you get to be my age pretty young lady, and you look into a mirror, you will no longer recognize your image as ‘me’. One day you will understand. You will see someone you no longer recognize staring back at you with foreign eyes.” Then she walked away with a sad smile on her face and exited the antique shop.

            I continued to stare into the mirror, hypnotized by my own reflection. The mirror spoke to me through subtle images, and I listened as it taught me about life. It showed me that mirrors are reminders of who we are, who we once were, and who we may become. It explained quite clearly that mirrors reveal stories of our past, present and future, through reflections and images that tell no lies.
           
MIRRORS (The Poem)

“Look at me”, the mirror said
I’ll tell you things you’ll want to know
I’ll show you images of your life
The past, the present, the future “glow”

You’ll see reflections of passing time
Aged perfection, like pricey wine
You may see tears and smiles, my love
You may see the innocence of a precious dove
You may see evil and madness too
But keep in mind, you will see “you”

So “Look at me”, the mirror said
Study your likeness; then forge ahead
At times you won’t like what you see
It is then you must act, and set yourself free

Embrace the stories the mirror tells
Embrace the glories the mirror sells
Purchase those images and make them yours
You’ll have bought the keys to your life’s doors
Fear not what I tell you, or what you see
Come closer my dear, and speak with me

You see the eyes that stare back at you?
The hair, the nose, the full lips too?
It’s the mirror’s truth; it will never lie
Come say hello, and not good-bye

This is your life, the way it should be…
When you look in the mirror
What do you see?
Say it proudly, dear!
Say it loud and clear!
Shout it out and say, “This is ME I see!”




Thursday, May 24, 2018

An Excerpt - An Untitled "Work in Progress"

https://www.amazon.com/Phyllis-P.-Colucci/e/B00VMU8B44
http://spillwords.com/author/phyllispcolucci/

Good Day All! - I am working on my 5th ebook (Fiction/Novel) (currently untitled, and still a work in progress). This is a story of danger, suspense, romance and some bizarre happenings...Check out an excerpt from it, below -





   Susan pushed open the door to “The Heirloom Room” as clumsily as an excited and hyperactive child. She was breathless from anxiety and desperate for answers. She lifted Ramona up off the old wooden rocking chair, sat herself down, placed Ramona on her lap, and proceeded to speak with her friend. She nervously spoke, non-stop, until she finished her entire story about Joe, the limo incident, his confession to her, and his threats. She begged Ramona to advise her. Susan cried and sobbed until her nose clogged up so badly, that she gasped for air which just couldn’t make its way through.  She fought to calm herself while she continued to choke on her own tears and mucous. When she finally cleared her throat and nostrils, able to take in much needed oxygen, she yelled out Ramona’s name. She begged Ramona for answers. However, nothing came from the ragdoll who seemed to have lost the sparkle from its rhinestone eyes. The doll lie dead and limp in Susan’s quivering lap. Susan was not having that. She could not accept nor tolerate any lack of response from Ramona!

          Susan shook the doll violently with terrible force from her bare hands. Then she hugged it close to her heart, and tearfully apologized for her fierce outburst. She whispered, “Please forgive me Ramona. I’m so very sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’m just so frightened, and I have nowhere to turn and no one to turn to for help except you my dearest friend. Please Ramona. I need to protect David, Sara and Lisa from Joe. He’s a monster! Help me! Tell me what to do!” 

          Susan stared deeply into Ramona’s rhinestone eyes, and conjured up the answers she needed; the answers she believed came from Ramona. She placed her ear near Ramona’s mouth and let out a sigh. Susan replied, “Oh no. I can’t do that Ramona! What are you saying? There has to be a better way! I’m not capable of doing something like that!” After a few eerie moments of silence and some deep reflection, Susan nodded and whispered back to Ramona that she would only consider doing that as last resort…and only then. She added that she needed to play by Joe’s rules first so she could gain his trust...then she’d do whatever was necessary from that point on to keep everyone safe.

         Susan held Ramona up in the air with both hands and faced her directly as they stared eye to eye, until she was convinced Ramona had given her blessing. She then got up from the rocking chair, sat Ramona upright in one corner of that chair, kissed her cheek, gently ran her fingers through her soft-yarn hair, smoothed out her ruffled satin dress, and left the room. She turned back and said, “Thank you Ramona. I love you, my friend. I love you dearly.” Ramona seemingly smiled as Susan raced out of the “Heirloom Room” and into the kitchen. She heard David’s key in the door.

Monday, May 21, 2018

"Christ Revealed"... Episode 8 (The Tomb of Jesus)

(CHRIST REVEALED) Episode 8 (Limited Viewing) - http://freeviewing.christrevealed.com/och-episode-8-deliver…
Just had to share this bit of info which I take as a sign that the Lord is making a statement...(I question my faith and always seek answers)...as I was watching these video episodes for the past eight days "Christ Revealed", I've leaned over my computer in the same manner each day, and wore the same crucifix around my neck that I wear everyday, but never did I lean in such a way where it made a perfect indentation on my hand/wrist area (ever) as it did when I reached the part of the film where they took us into the "Tomb of Jesus". I had my son take a photo of my hand as proof of what I am saying - of both the INDENTATION and the PORTION OF THE FILM at which I noticed this. It caught my attention at this particular time, by a burning and itching sensation. When I looked at my hand, this is what I saw. I'd like to believe it was a sign of faith and The Lord to me, and I'd like to pay attention to that message as I continue to seek answers.
YOU BE THE JUDGE! See photos below...


Wednesday, May 16, 2018

...On Poetry and Fiction – Just “One Word” Away (Love)


                                                                                            

            One word becomes one idea, becomes one sentence, becomes one poem, becomes one story. It must start from just “one word”. Today my one word is “Love”.

                                        Poetry and Fiction - Just "One Word" Away (Love)

                                                                    
            She searched for love as if she were searching for a lost child. She called out its name in the lonely darkness, and hoped for a quick response. She ran against the wind as it slapped her face with its stinging fingers, yet she continued on with the roar and strength of a lioness. She ran aimlessly in search of something she couldn’t see or touch. All she knew was that something was lost, and she had to find it. She left her family behind in order to search for whatever was missing in her life…She licked the salt from her quivering lips as the tears of her soul streamed down her cheeks. She ran on, however, with no compass, no map, no direction, no plan. She just screamed out for love to answer her. Yet, only her voice echoed in the night. Her heart shattered by another failed attempt.

            She soon turned around and made her way back home, only to find that which she had been searching for all along. It was right in front of her. It waited for her. - Her sweet dog greeted her at the door as his tail wagged wildly. Her children ran to her as she cuddled them in her arms. Her husband prepared dinner and poured her a glass of her favorite wine. There was music on the radio, sounds of a television in the background which no one watched, roses on the counter, and a table set with mismatched dishes. Everything was in chaos. The napkins, glasses, knives and forks were strewn about as if a hurricane had hit the kitchen. The children ran around, and played and screamed with no restraint, while she tripped over the toys that were in her path. She looked around and simply smiled at the disorder that captured her heart. She became whole again. It may have been disguised in chaos, but love lived within the walls of her own home. Once she recognized it, she never had to search farther than her precious backyard.


LOVE

Love is loneliness served on a platter
Love is heartbreak in the fact of the matter
Love can hurt, love can cure
Love can focus, it can obscure
Love can hide within a song
It may invite you to play along
You may not recognize its gentle way
Or even listen to what it has to say
You may search for it in the strangest places
And never see it in familiar faces
It may not look the way you thought
The way you struggled, the way you fought
And you may fail, as you search afar
Only to collect another scar
Because love will come in a simple smile
It will caress you for a little while
It will set your yearning heart on fire
It will sing like an angel from a church choir
It will make you laugh, it will make you cry
No matter what, it will tell no lie
You must embrace it with open arms
And recognize its many charms
It will visit you, it will visit me
It will capture us or set us free
So with open eyes, please look and see
Love will be nestled within your own family


Thursday, May 3, 2018

...An Invitation to Follow FictionTarot's Facebook Page (also known as Phyllis P. Colucci, Writer)

Good Day to All You Readers Out There:

It's a bright, sunny 92 degrees in New York City today. I'm home in Brooklyn, enjoying the A.C. as I post on my blog.

Writers love to share and promote their work through Social Media. Creating a Facebook Page dedicated to their love and passion for writing is just another great way to do that. 

I would like to invite those interested in reading fiction and poetry (mystery, suspense, with a touch of romance and that New York edge) to Follow my page and check it out. If you like it, keep following; if not, feel free to unfollow. It costs nothing but a bit of your time, and you may gain a new perspective on fiction with that New York edge. 

You will find articles, stories, poems, information on my ebooks (Amazon, Amazonuk, Goodreads), excerpts, editorials and various writings submitted to Spillwords Press, which is a wonderful world-wide writing community for not only writers, but readers as well. 

There are many interesting reading/writing links you may access through my page below. Please feel free to take a look. It is for me to give and for you to take. Enjoy. 

I am also open to questions, comments and reviews in and about "MY" personal literary world. Come Visit...


https://www.facebook.com/FictionTarot-369300330178894/


Tuesday, March 27, 2018

...On Poetry and Fiction - Just "One Word" Away (Loneliness)



                                                                                             
            One word becomes one idea, becomes one sentence, becomes one poem, becomes one story. It must start from just “one word”. Today my one word is “Loneliness”.

            Poetry and Fiction – Just “One Word” Away (Loneliness)



            Last night I heard a knock at my door. I looked through the peephole, but no one was there. I slowly opened the door and looked around, but still no one was there. I walked over to the mailbox to see if it was, perhaps, the mailman who might have dropped off a package. Still, no one. Nothing. Suddenly, I heard a soft voice call out to me. It said, “Hello there. My name is ‘Loneliness’. I stopped by because you are in need of a friend. You feel as though everyone close to you has disappeared, moved away, passed on, and now you are on your own. Nonsense! Go back into the house, put on your best casual outfit, and meet me out front here.”  I did just that. Someone or something was speaking to me, and it was magical. I had to listen.

            Well I couldn’t see “loneliness”, but I sure felt its presence. I followed it to the Brooklyn Pier. I looked out over the river towards the glow of the City lights, and I smiled. “Loneliness” led, and I followed. I followed it to a park bench not far from the water. I sat alone for awhile until a stranger approached. The stranger turned out to be a friend from the past. Actually, an “old flame” as they say. We talked, we laughed, we reminisced. Then we headed for the water taxi, which took us across the river to the Big City. I heard “loneliness” whisper in my ear, “My job is done. Move on my friend, be happy, and start tonight. Best Wishes and God Bless…Until we meet again…”

            If it weren’t for my encounter with “Loneliness” on this very night, I would never have stepped out of my shell, gone to the pier, met an “old flame”, or headed to the City. I joined life once again. I learned “Loneliness” may be the only friend we have left at any given moment. We’ve all been there. Embrace it. It just may take you places you may not have been able to go on your own. It will move you forward, not backward.

LONELINESS

When “Loneliness” comes knocking,
You must answer that door
It will speak softly, in a whisper,
It will shake you to the core
It may ask you to follow,
as it leads you to a place
That teaches you a lesson
which you will soon embrace
It will take you from your place of pity
And back to life in your “Big City”
 There will be lights and smiles and love galore
An old friend or flame will come once more
And off you’ll go, in true delight
While “Loneliness” leaves you on this magical night.






Saturday, March 10, 2018

"Our Lady of the Snow" Society - 130th Anniversary (2018)

The below poem is a poem I have written dedicated to "Our Lady of the Snow" Society - an Italian/Catholic Society which was founded in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, 130 years ago, by Italian immigrants from Sanza, Italy. The Society was started in order to help those who had left their loved ones back in Sanza, Italy, start a new life here in America. This was a new world for them, and this Society became their lifeline as they adapted to life in a new country. Their dedication to "Our Lady of the Snow" helped them focus, helped them cope, as they honored her in love, hope and prayer. The generations who have followed have vowed to keep the Society alive and well. To this day, they continue to take on the role of their ancestors as they remain dedicated members of "Our Lady of the Snow" Society. Happy 130th Anniversary! God Bless!

http://ilregno2s.blogspot.com/2013/08/feast-of-madonna-della-neve.html





“OUR LADY OF THE SNOW”
written by: Phyllis P. Colucci
(March 3, 2018)

‘Twas 130 years ago when “they” settled in this town
They came from Sanza, Italy
And placed their roots down
They started this Society
Called “Our Lady of the Snow”
For all their friends and family
Who needed somewhere to go
A place to meet, a place to greet, a place to call home
A place that offered love and warmth
So “they” were ne’er alone
They left their hearts and loved ones
Back in Sanza Italy
To start a new life here in Brooklyn
And raise a family
Their patronage to “Our Lady”
became the focus of their life
In prayer, in honor, in hope, in love
In good times and in strife
New generations have joined the cause
And vowed to do the same
To pay tribute to “Our Lady”
And forever speak her name
In memory of our beloved deceased
Former members of this group
We will proudly carry on your role
With respect from whence it came


Dedicated to our Grandparents, Felice and Fortunata Marotta, early members of "Our Lady of the Snow" Society.
All our Love
Phyllis and Son Ralph (Colucci)
(Society Members)