Parker Owens
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Everything posted by Parker Owens
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A Long Way From Anywhere
Parker Owens commented on Parker Owens's story chapter in A Long Way From Anywhere
Thank you for reading this prompt response. Your words are very encouraging. I enjoyed the challenge, though I fear the story might have seemed a bit long. Perhaps Justin will have more than a squeeze for Bill once the plane lands. Again, I’m most grateful. -
Prompt 3 - . . . In the Night
Parker Owens commented on Cole Matthews's story chapter in Prompt 3 - . . . In the Night
What is in that box? And how fast can the narrator run? I'm hearing stark atonal music shrieking in my head as I read this... -
Prompt 4 - Degradation of Memory
Parker Owens commented on Cole Matthews's story chapter in Prompt 4 - Degradation of Memory
This is spooky. I may not want to go to bed tonight, 'cause of the dreams I might have. Well done. -
“It’s looking awful.” “I know.” Bill looked over his partner’s shoulder at the tiny screen. “I don’t like the look of it.” “Environment Canada just issued an advisory.” “That’s nothing. Advisories just mean there’s a chance of a chance of a storm.” “What are they calling it?” Bill inquired. “Tropical Storm Fred. It’s a monster; the Advisory says it came up the Mississippi, merged with a Pacific low and then sucked in a system that moved in behind it from Alaska.”
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This is the result of a randomly generated prompt.
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Yes, I well remember him. Like you, I recall details of outline and shade of flesh in the sun. The recollection is bittersweet, and melancholy too - just as your lovely poem is.
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I know the sounds and songs you bring to mind, and your words stir sorrow in my heart for places to which neither of us can return. You wrote it beautifully.
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Prompt 2 - The Motherland Calls
Parker Owens commented on Cole Matthews's story chapter in Prompt 2 - The Motherland Calls
Very interesting... someone or something blinded a statue? A case of mistaken identity, or just demonstrating something to a party who needs to know? In either case, I don’t want to annoy that someone... -
Those Moments of Silence
Parker Owens commented on Drew Payne's story chapter in Those Moments of Silence
How terribly sad and yet too familiar for many. But maybe this story is replayed less often now than it once was. I sure hope so, anyway. -
This story was a lovely song in itself, sung in a major key with harmony upon harmony. Thank you for this.
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Ouch! Not a nice way to say ‘thanks for the ride!’
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So sad, that Simon must hide. But not everyone has the brass to be out and proud and defiant at bay at that age. The question is: why should it be necessary? I cannot think Simon is a coward. He’s a survivor.
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Vireos and the Carolina Wren
Parker Owens commented on Parker Owens's story chapter in Vireos and the Carolina Wren
I’m very glad these open a window on the North American birds for you. The Carolina Wren is actually singing in the woods not far away right now. Thanks so much for reading and considering these. -
April 15 through April 21
Parker Owens commented on Parker Owens's story chapter in April 15 through April 21
April 16 actually has an old Appalachian hymn as its inspiration. I’m glad you picked up on that. Those tomatoes are my height now, reaching for the sun. Thanks so much for reading these and for your thoughts. -
Already the cicadas are being replaced by katydids, proclaiming the end of summer. But maybe these lines will make the glow last a little longer. You’re very kind to read these, and to comment.
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It’s a wonderful picture you paint in words. I can feel the thrill of standing there with you.
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I’m glad these lines made you smile. Perhaps they’ll help us savor the season a bit longer.
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I love this! I have nearly all of the main ingredients growing in my garden...
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Thank you for reading these. You are right in saying that the sensual pleasures of summer are best enjoyed when they are shared. Perhaps these lines will help the warmth linger into the autumn.
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The pup might have his work cut out for him here. Thank you for reading these and for responding to them. My hope is that you and I can read them in January and feel the warmth and the sunshine.
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And I neglected to mention the drone of the fans - no AC here, alas and alas.
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Thank you, tim. All sorts of strains make up the music of these days. I'm sweeping cicadas off my front steps, too - though soon they will be supplanted by katydids announcing the end of summer. You're very kind to comment on these.
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Summer tastes like warm, blue afternoons and ghost stories told by campfirelight; it’s flavored by peach colored clouds before sunrise, by tangy rainbow clad thunderstorms or meteors sprinkled in the stars. July’s song is the crunch of fresh beans, and the sultry alto tanager blending with a chorus of mournful cicadas sounding over the food processor as it transforms basil to sunlight.
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and i can’t tell if i want him or want to be him This cuts to the heart of the yearning that flows through this poem, and which surrounds me still.
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This makes me so very sad. It’s enormously powerful. You’re quite real to me.
