This week Denise Douros usually found on Six Sentence and Thinking Ten; graces cavalcadeofstars with a couple of her short stories. Enjoy!
Dots on a Page by Denise Douros
There is something special about
a lined page of paper from a notebook.
The parameters are all set
Uniform equality of margin, space and lines,
but when it is marked with ink,
all formats become null and void of their existence
And are no longer adhered to, at least by me.
This is how I see that page,
then I find reason to make an imprint,
which at times gets erased, but more likely
gets additional markings of ink doodles.
Circles are drawn around words
to be used somewhere else in the draft.
Lines stretch to where they are
better suited to make sense.
Writing a story or poem or love letter
often finds that I’m not satisfied with my initial inkings
and rather than start over with a fresh page,
I create these,
almost hidden to the non-composer’s eye,
It would be a high order
to take on the markings I make
to make sense of them.
That is why I haven’t hired someone
to take dictation, or lease a stenographer for the afternoon
or even still, harass an Editor!
Part of this dance is that I am in charge
from thought to thought to conclusion.
When the music stops,
and I am fulfilled and satisfied with my mind’s creation,
I type it to a virtual page, in a virtual book,
press, PUBLISH, and hope I made a point of those dots on the page.
-dld Nov. 3, 2010
Implied Coffee with Sounds of Percolation, Details to Follow by Denise Douros
Leafing through the diary, I found one date that stood out.
It was a long entry, so I grabbed a cuppa and propped the pillows
As I read of the tortured soul of a woman in love, I noticed a smear.
The drop of a tear evaporated, yet distinct in its outline. It spoke to me
with such clarity, and of defeat.
By page six, I became so embroiled in her affair. Her handwriting was
beginning to look like mine and her words, I could have spoken
If not for the fact that she was of Mandarin origin and I,
a mere Bhutan refugee’s daughter. Meant not to touch the spirit of such
deities, but, I have.
This is when it occurred to me that emotions know no language,
and certainly do not mark separation of one’s wealth.
~dld October 14, 2010
dld, Denise Douros, is from the Garden State, where the snow has replaced sweet summer corn and blooming Tiger Lillies. She has been published in Contemporary World Literature’s Journal http://contemporaryworldliterature.com/) and will be in the February issues of both Viral Cat Press http://www.viralcat.com/) , as well as Contemporary World Poetry I http://contemporypoetry.com/ if you would like to see her other short fiction pieces, as well as her poetry, please go http://dldselfnarration.wordpress.com/