Barb Dukeman
Bio
After 32 years of teaching high school English, I've started writing again and loving every minute of it. I enjoy bringing ideas to life and the concept of leaving behind a legacy.
Stories (118/0)
Truth escaped
(This was my entry for the eclipse contest a few weeks back; because I screenshot the poem from Word, the resulting jpg didn't count as individual words and sadly didn't count. Concrete poetry is difficult to replicate on this platform although I think Vocal is working on a solution. However, concrete poetry is very hard to replicate through AI, and so I thought the shape in addition to the acrostic element would stand out as different. AI has been infesting many writing platforms, school assignments, and social media that it alarms me that some might use AI to create original pieces.)
By Barb Dukeman9 days ago in Poets
Just 105 Miles South of Key West
A short window of time opened during the Obama administration allowing Americans to visit Cuba for family or educational reasons. To celebrate our 25th wedding anniversary in 2017, my husband and I booked a cruise and tour in Havana. My father's side of the family came from Cuba, and I have always been curious about his homeland. Although I don't speak the language, just being there would rekindle interest in my heritage.
By Barb Dukeman9 days ago in Wander
That's Not What You Think It Is
We were at a fancy sushi restaurant. I, never having had sushi, had picked out an entree with an exotic name; Pink Lady, Passion Luck, or something like that. I admired the decor of the room, a mix of Asian cultures wrapped into a riot of colors, birds, and dark wood. I had both chopsticks and silverware to choose from. The food was delivered quickly.
By Barb Dukemanabout a month ago in Fiction
A Lifetime in a Minute
His name flashes on the giant screen, a photo taken from the granite monument outside the capitol. His widow takes the hand of their 7-year-old daughter, too young to fully comprehend the truth of this moment. They are flanked by uniforms she knew well, crisp and polished, white gloves gently touching her shoulder. Men and women with somber faces, leaders and guest speakers, are up on the dais watching the ceremony. Cameras all around capture this for posterity.
By Barb Dukemanabout a month ago in Fiction
A Dragon at the Gym
My personal trainer, Carrie, has me focus on how much weight I can handle at one time as she counts sets and reps. This is a different concept for me; I like the safety and comfort of a simple countdown. This tests me on a different level: it’s me against myself. Can I do two more? Yes, I can. I realize, though, that sometimes I don’t know how much I can truly handle. She usually waits until I click-hiss like a cat or make a high-pitched squeaky noise, which is my version of grunting and saying I’ve hit a wall.
By Barb Dukeman3 months ago in Motivation
The Anniversary Waltz
The morning haze of June 10, 1994, was particularly tiring for Shelley. Two months of pregnancy have started taking its toll, from the dreaded morning sickness to the backache that no Tylenol could kill. Taking it easy around the house, a restless Shelley figured today was just going to be another typical hot summer day. Mark, who started work earlier in the day, came home early, catching her off guard.
By Barb Dukeman3 months ago in Families
Love Still Makes Our World Turn
Peeling apart the layers, love can come through looking unrecognizable, not like the puppy love we felt in middle school. Through time love can morph into thousands of facets, a shiny diamond at times, and an ugly rock at others. It has the same elements, but like physical matter has different states, love has different forms also. It often starts with butterflies.
By Barb Dukeman3 months ago in Marriage