I write stories and articles. Sometimes they're good.
As the Frost poem proclaimed, "Some say the world will end in fire, Some say in ice." But I posit a different conclusion,
By CD Turner11 months ago in Poets
As a little girl I was told I was a pearl Who needed to keep myself Clean and pure. We were compared to used cars And spit-on candy bars,
I'm so tired of hearing what the Bible says, What the preachers say, What the men in blood-soaked suits say. I am past the point of mourning
First, they'll silence the teachers, The writers, the theaters, The arts and the poets, Gone before you'll know it. / Soon after, it's the radio waves,
By CD Turner12 months ago in Poets
There is a difference Between the two states of being. They seem like a paradox On the surface. Yet under the cataclysmic waves
CHAPTER 20 Offred and the Handmaids file into the house where Ofwarren is to give birth. Offred notices the large amount of food placed out for the celebration. It should be noted that in the sequel, The Testaments, food wastage is considered heinous because of the ongoing war slowing supply lines. This extravagance of food denotes the Wife's and Commander's status, especially the coffee and wine. Handmaids are not permitted caffeine or alcohol and have strict diets because of their role as breeding slaves. The inclusion of wine is also interesting because many modern day evangelical beliefs claim alcohol and drunkenness to be sinful. This is a symbol of privilege, a brief glance into the moral hypocrisy of the elite families that supposedly represent the utmost godliness.
By CD Turner12 months ago in Viva
I feel like a five-year-old tattletale tugging on the teacher's dress, screaming, "Teacher, Konami's doing bad things again!"
By CD Turnerabout a year ago in Gamers
This a low Beyond tears, Under bedrock, Into the core Of the Earth we maimed. / I do not weep; For this sadness transcends emotion,
By CD Turner2 years ago in Poets
I have been fossilized, Buried in the strata of collapsed society. I have become stone, Trapped in time, Like a cage, Like an insect caught in amber.
I sense the end Blowing through the streets Like heady breezes making the windbells chime. I want to believe In a dream of permanence
This can't be the extent of life... Suffering among a merciless game Of privilege versus disadvantage. I can't have wasted 29 years...
Sperm to egg, A zygote forms. Zygote to embryo, Ultrasound performed. Woman to doctor, "I'm not ready to be a mother."