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

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

 

 

                                                                (Pinterest Photo)

 

SILENCE - Yes, it is golden! Yes, it is magical! It is wordless and it is speechless; yet it speaks to us in ways our talking world cannot...

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 “Silence”.

                                                           SILENCE

“Silence” speaks to us at moments when our world is mute. It may not come in words or sentences, but it will come in spirit and you will hear its voice. You will know its message through its speechless tales of comfort and woe. It may grace you with a memory you’ll be happy to recall, or taunt you with a memory too sad to ever think about. No matter what, “Silence” will visit you often. It will remain by your side for as long as you are listening. Take it by the hand, and welcome it into your life. It will speak to you in ways that a noisy and chaotic world never could. Chaos is terribly loud and quite annoying, while “Silence” is wonderfully placid, soothing, golden - and honest. Let it live in your world! Let it speak to your heart!


                       SILENCE

If “Silence” stops by to speak with you
     Will you ever know?
Will you hear its quiet voice
     Within the fallen snow?
Will you see its shadow watching
     In the sunlit morning glow?
Will you hear its placid whisper
     While the darkened night’s in tow?

Silence speaks of seasons
     Through nature’s changing face
Winter, Spring, Summer, Fall
     Await your kind embrace
They say “Silence” is truly golden
     As its words are never heard
Yet soundless endless banter
     Is as sweet as it is absurd

You must listen as it echoes
     In your ever-eager ears
From the sounds of gentle murmurs
     To the sounds of voiceless cheers
The speechless tales of comfort
     And the speechless tales of woe
Will always speak of moments
     From the highest to the low

Moments worthy of a memory
     Moments sadder to recall
Yet moments of a full life
     From the climb to the sudden fall
The enormous valiant victories
     And the Decorated smile
Revealed through sounds of silence
     Delivered in humble style

Allow this golden silence
     To calm you as you sleep
To cuddle you in wordless love
     And cause your soul to weep
To weep from your elated heart
     One that showers you with bliss
So you may know that silence speaks
     When your talking world’s amiss

"HALLOWEEN HORROR" (13 Days of Halloween - 2018) (Spillwords Press) - Poem

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

                                                                    (Pinterest Photo)

Below is a Poem I wrote and submitted to Spillwords Press (Spillwords.com) for their "13 Days of Halloween" Presentation (2018)...So embrace the holiday...Accept the tricks as well as the treats, and you'll do just fine...Boo! Boo! Boo! Boo! Boo! Boo! Boo! Boo! Boo! Boo! Boo! Boo!

HALLOWEEN HORROR

From my humble abode -

From “My window on the world”

I can see them as clear as the day!

I know them quite well

And I fear them for sure

For their venom will spill today!

They’re the Ghosts and the Goblins

The Witches and Warlocks

The Spiders that weave wretched webs

The Skeletons, the Bats – and all that is bad

The broken, the violent, the terribly sad

…The aura, the mark of the macabre…

Riding in on the souls who pave their way

They’re alive in the shadows

Of this outlandish night

They appear in October when the time is right

They frolic about with strength and might

Hissing aloud to their own delight

Their silhouettes dance behind shades of gray

So oddly happy and strangely gay

Their windows are adorned with iron bars

Like insane asylums and killer jails

They gaze out into darkness and grin with ease

Such sinister laughter, such cold wicked wails

Their house is quite evil as wooden shutters flap loudly

To a choir of maligned beings who sing harmony, proudly

They cast spells from a Witch’s kettle

They take turns stirring the brew

I have but one question

- Will their next victim be you?

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

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

 

 

 

 


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 “Shadow”.

                                                            SHADOW

            “Shadow” will walk with you on a bright sunny day and play hide and seek with you while the clouds settle in. You’ll be tempted to chase it, but unable to catch it. It will make you happy and it will make you sad. Sometimes you may play the fool, as you fall in love with its elusive spirit. You may run with it – skip, dance and hop along with it; but you will never enjoy its company if the mighty sun fades away. Perhaps it will join you once again so it can tease you, love you, leave you then embrace you - all on its own terms. It will always have the upper hand. You may follow the shadow as far as it will allow, but you will never capture it for the long-term. It can never be controlled with such an independent nature. It will come and it will go – but you will always be there; happy in the sunlight or suddenly lost in a cloud. What will you do? Your only choice will be to say good-bye and walk away until the next time. Isn’t that what life is all about?

SHADOW

I lost it quickly through a cloud

But yearned to make it mine

It came and went so gallantly

I prayed the sun would shine

“Shadow” lived in nature’s light

It danced and played to her song

I finally thought it came back to me

So I danced and played along

Unfortunately it slipped away

So callous and so cool

Through darkness and a raging rain

Again I played the fool

Its elusive spirit so selfish and cruel

Pretended to be so kind

I fell for its antics again and again

While it continued to torment my mind

It made me quite happy

And it made me quite sad

But most of all

It made me quite mad

So I made a decision

To say good-bye

I walked away from its truth

And I walked away from its lie

This “roller-coaster ride”

With my shadow of choice

Enlightened my soul

And gave me my voice

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

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

 

 

 

 

   

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 “Books”.

                                                                     BOOKS

            What are books? To some they are inanimate objects that sit upon shelves and collect dust. To others they are spirited beings who come alive when someone picks them from the shelves, wipes away the dust from their covers, and allows them to speak with each turn of a page. They speak about romance, mystery, suspense, humor, families, friendship, adventures, science, history, foods and more. They take us on journeys to faraway lands. They teach us about life, the world, and everything in it. They speak through colorful words and sentences that form magnificent imagery in the minds of all readers. Then they find a way to politely say good-bye once the last page is turned. It is then that those books are returned to their shelves, until someone picks them up again and invites them to speak.

BOOKS

Like soldiers at attention

The books stood on their shelves

So tall, so brave, so silent

While dust fell upon themselves

The people came and chose them

Then invited them to speak

They came alive with the turn of a page

Each word allowed a “peek”

The books told tales of romance

Intrigue and mystery too

They led us forth to foreign lands

Where we freely wandered through

We read aloud

We laughed and cried

We danced and pranced

And sometimes sighed

We learned about others

As we marveled around

We tasted new foods

Through words and through sound

They taught us great lessons

in science and history

Each spirited page revealed

quite a mystery

When the last page was turned

and they said their “Good-bye”

We were left with huge images

and answers to “Why?”

…We knew it was time

to put them to rest

On their dusty old bookshelves

with the Best of the Best

"Lives Unbalanced" - A Work in Progress (Ebook # 5) - Phyllis P. Colucci (FictionTarot)

"Lives Unbalanced" is a work in progress. It's a novel about human nature, people's lives, love, loss, danger, loneliness  - and the bizarre consequences. (Amazon/Goodreads)

...He said, “I heard enough about Ramona. If that doll comes out of my closet, I’ll shoot her right between the eyes.” Susan whispered to Joe that he’d better keep his voice down because if Ramona heard what he just said, she’d be very upset and that would be a dangerous thing for him. 

#amazon #goodreads #writerslife #nyc #kindleunlimited #amwriting

(A work in progress #Ebook #5 "Lives Unbalanced")

https://www.amazon.com/default/e/B00VMU8B44

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

http://spillwords.com/author/phyllispcolucci/      

https://www.amazon.com/Phyllis-P.-Colucci/e/B00VMU8B44

 

 

 

 

 

            

            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 “Dreams”.

                                                            DREAMS   

            

            As you fall asleep at night, pay attention to the “little writers” in your head who wake up to create the most magical stories for you; stories filled with supernatural powers and never ending possibilities.

            You will be taken on journeys to the most fascinating places, where it rains flowers and snows fairy dust. You will be transported from place to place on the golden wings of smiling angels. There will be music in the air sung by a choir of exotic birds, with wings the colors of the rainbow and beaks as bright as the sun. You will fly across regal blue skies, land on cotton-ball clouds, and enjoy one fabulous view of a fantasy world below.

            Your angels will vividly narrate these divine stories and weave them into breathtaking dreams, as you visit many faraway places enchanted by the little writers in your head. These unique writers will continue to entertain you through their kaleidoscope of words, until the time comes when they must close their eyes and rest. At that moment you will wake up in your own bed, back to your own reality, and ever so grateful to have visited a euphoric world beyond your wildest imagination.

  DREAMS

A kaleidoscope of words

From “little writers” in your head

Who tell enchanting stories

From a world beyond your bed

Where angels lead you

on golden wing

To faraway places

Where exotic birds sing

Where raindrops are flowers

And Snowflakes are fairy dust

Where soft clouds are seat cushions

and sky views - a must

Where fantasy worlds

Exist just below

For only you to see,

To embrace, and to know

Where great stories are woven

into the magic of dreams

where the supernatural lives

and euphoria beams

Where make-believe is real

And imagination runs wild

Illusions grow stronger

Through eyes of a child

Where castles are built

On wide candied streets

And edible trees

Are filled with sweet treats

What a wonderful world

Made word by word

Which serves you great stories

…the silly, the absurd

Exuding with laughter

pure love and joy

Entertaining the adults

Spoiling each girl and boy

Until such time comes

When “little writers” must sleep

As WE wake from our dreams

With fine memories to keep

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

http://spillwords.com/author/phyllispcolucci/      

https://www.amazon.com/Phyllis-P.-Colucci/e/B00VMU8B44

 

 

 

 

 

 

       

            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   

            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 

“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!”

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.