Readers who write in response to one of the prompts listed each month in Splintered Glass, may see their work presented here on the last week of that month. Though poems are preferred, short prose work will also be considered for publication.

Guidelines for submission:

  1. List Splintered Glass prompt which inspired the work in the text of your email.
  2. Submit material to be published as Microsoft Word document. Submission should not be longer than one page. Editing will not be provided, please be careful.
  3. Include two brief sentences about the author. Example: Michael Whozits is the author of A Book and The Curl, a blog. He is a retired pilot and avid surfer.
  4. Submission must arrive no later than the 3rd Wednesday of the month in which the Splintered Glass prompt appeared. Only one reader’s submission will be selected for any given month.
  5. Send submission to karoxby@gmail.com.

 

April has several special days that might inspire a writer. Here’s a few:

    1. Name Yourself Day. Don’t like your name, explore options and the reasons. Or, as a writer, create a (new?) penname for yourself and let reader in on the nature of the material this penname will provide.
    2. National Poetry Day, International Haiku Poetry Day, and Poem In Your Pocket Day. Poets, this the month for you. Work on new material, design a chapbook, re-release material
    3. Tell a Story Day, UN World Press Freedom.
    4. Love Our Children Day, Siblings Day, Kids and Pets Day, Scrapbook Day. Scrounge up your memories, borrow those of others or present day observances.

 

For just a blink of the eye in time

They seem frozen, as if in flight…

Those tired, black-dusted miners’ faces,

Down-beaten and old before their time.

The mine mouth at their back seemed like

An inanimate, all devouring, beast

With an insatiable hunger for flesh;

No bargains, no special discounts here.

A penalty applied for any sloppy work–

A broken arm, a leg, a crushed skull.

At times a surtax was extracted–

Someone’s life and perhaps many more.

The coal mine never forgives a mistake

And the price of coal remains the same:

A pound of flesh for a pound of coal.

Even those small frame houses on the hill

Exact their special toll on miners’ folks.

Too many people in too small a house;

Children playing on toxic piles of slate;

Mothers with hands and knuckles scarred thin.

Sometimes, death seems to be a release;

No more coal, no more sleepless nights,

No haunting heartache of a hungry child.

Only a few ever escape this dreariness.

Rest will end as always before.

Somewhere never seen,

in far land spring of cherry tree,

blossoms await

Easter is a time to express

Love in all our communications,

To speak with long time friends,

Renew love ties with old loves,

Touch the heavens in thanks,

Remember why we are here.

Easter, peaceful bliss,

Omen of what we all owe,

Divine help when needed most.

May I thank you for your love?

One more reason to be glad.

Happy Easter to you all.

 

GLASS RAIN—the poetry by Margaret Roxby

“SOMEWHERE” appears this week for April 17, International Haiku Poetry Day. The author shared this in 1992 with her “Round Robin” poetry friends who shared and commented on poetry they exchanged by mail. On her original she wrote the following:

“This is a little poem which I wrote many years ago, but I thought it might be appropriate since we have lost one of our “robins”—I am sure she has seen those blossoms.

Speaking of syllable count as I have in comments, this haiku or senreyu or whatever, the last line has just 4 syllables. Someone once suggested changing it to “blossoms are waiting”—but that says something entirely different, so I never changed it. and I’m glad.”

REFRACTIONSpoetry by Robert Roxby

“THE MINERS” is included this week for That Sucks Day, April 14. The scenes in this poem were a daily vision in the poet’s childhood. The 1930s Depression had hit his area by the time he graduated high school (the only one in his family to do so), and so his family talked him into a job as a coal miner. Even having seen and felt what he reveals in this poem, he spent the day in that particular hole. But when he emerged, he declared he would never again enter a mine to work, even though jobs were so scarce during the Depression. This poem first appeared in the author’s collection, Reflections on a Lifetime.

THROUGH THE LOOKING GLASS—the poetry of Kathleen Roxby

“EASTER” is a piece the author intended as a sort of Easter Card verse to share with family when her grandmother was still living.

 

 

 

Readers who write in response to one of the prompts listed each month in Splintered Glass, may see their work presented here on the last week of that month. Though poems are preferred, short prose work will also be considered for publication.

Guidelines for submission:

  1. List Splintered Glass prompt which inspired the work in the text of your email.
  2. Submit material to be published as Microsoft Word document. Submission should not be longer than one page. Editing will not be provided, please be careful.
  3. Include two brief sentences about the author. Example: Michael Whozits is the author of A Book and The Curl, a blog. He is a retired pilot and avid surfer.
  4. Submission must arrive no later than the 3rd Wednesday of the month in which the Splintered Glass prompt appeared. Only one reader’s submission will be selected for any given month.
  5. Send submission to karoxby@gmail.com.

 

April has several special days that might inspire a writer. Here’s a few:

    1. Name Yourself Day. Don’t like your name, explore options and the reasons. Or, as a writer, create a (new?) penname for yourself and let reader in on the nature of the material this penname will provide.
    2. National Poetry Day, International Haiku Poetry Day, and Poem In Your Pocket Day. Poets, this the month for you. Work on new material, design a chapbook, re-release material
    3. Tell a Story Day, UN World Press Freedom.
    4. Love Our Children Day, Siblings Day, Kids and Pets Day, Scrapbook Day. Scrounge up your memories, borrow those of others or present day observances.

 

We always called her Nervy.

She was not really nervy but,

Always she was in trouble of some kind.

She was too soft hearted for her own good.

Someone was always taking advantage of her.

Three of the homes she lived in while married

Were so run down, old and weather beaten,

It’s a wonder she was allowed to live there.

Her husband left when she needed him the most.

Cancer dogged her life the last few years;

She always tried to hide how much it hurt her.

 

She would give you anything she had if

You said you really needed it.

One brother finally figured how to help her.

He built a concrete block house on his property,

Furnished it so she could look after Mom.

When she finally died of the cancer

My sister, Dorothy, was there and her last words

Were, “I’m coming Mommy. I’m coming.”

Are there watchers in the sky?

Do they see us, wake us from dreams

and mark with hope the wonder

that we might now remember

time-travelers of the past?

Wait! they somehow seem to say.

Wait! we will come back someday.