Parker Owens
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Everything posted by Parker Owens
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Thank you very much. I’m most grateful.
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Thank you. That last stanza let me stand against those who would make my choices for me, and who would deny us the chance to say for ourselves who we might be, or where we might land. Thanks again.
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Each raindrop is buffeted and torn in its way down. You’re right though: the clouds have as little choice about their speed or direction as the raindrops do. Thanks for your thoughts and for taking time with these.
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Thank you so much for taking time to read and consider these. I’m hopeful your imagination takes flight to see as I did.
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You’re very kind, and I thank you for your thoughtful response to these. The last skyscraper’s bite came naturally, especially as I consider the false choices that are being forced upon yet another generation of kids subjected to this era’s neopuritanism. Thanks again.
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I hope you realize I want more. Like, now. Please.
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Thank you, tim. These came to me in a rush one morning, arriving with the ducks on the river. They helped me see the connections.
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Thanks for reading and responding to these. We are who we are, and choice doesn’t truly enter into it.
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Thank you very much. These five all arrived in a rush one morning. I appreciate your taking time with them.
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I had to love The Garlic Question. It made me smile, and l may never be in the kitchen without being reminded of that poem. Choosing’s last stanza was powerful enough to make me reread it several times over. I may put it on my classroom door. My students will say I live by red ink. That made your poem by that name stand out to me, and I read it, nodding as I went along. I’m delighted with all three of these!
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A small offering to the Poetry Anthology for 2026
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About Choosing Does the rain opt to let its cloud go, and can it select its landing place, either parched plain or fever swamp or tidy lawn, as if its preference might matter to a tired, thirsty world where it falls? Crocuses don’t choose which sunny day to open themselves to birds and bees, for it is in their nature to spread wide their arms joining earth to sky and sky to earth before the ground can warm to spr
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Let me add to what ought to be a loud sound of applause for this story. I’m enjoying it very much. As in any mystery, I’m keeping my opinions - my suspicions - to myself, lest I inadvertently give something away. Well done!
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Thanks for taking time to read this. As often happens in science fiction, real life overtakes fiction - AI may put Loy out of a job, or make surveillance impossible to evade. But as we discover in the text you quote (and in our own time), AI is only as good as the sources from which it gleans information.
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This is one of your most beautiful and rich poems. In it, I experience your walk along the street, through the simple powerful images you use. Trees that do not ask for much, and Loneliness dragging its coat make me want to look about my own world to see who’s there.
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Chapter 93 The Demon King
Parker Owens commented on Headstall's story chapter in Chapter 93 The Demon King
I enjoyed this; it is indeed a gift to know when to retreat, and when to advance. You made me visualize the scene perfectly. -
Yes there is interest from me! I almost missed a class reading this. I was on the edge of my chair.
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Thank you. I’m glad it has stuck with you so long. I’ve tried to start Reed’s story, but have found myself blocked, as if there’s something to the story I’m not able to hear yet.
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I really liked this insight into Malik and his existence. The open door doesn’t merely beckon; his life pushes him toward it, too.
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I read this chapter, which sounded so very true in many ways. And then I read the Author’s Note, and my eyes teared up and I wept. Loss and grief are seldom handled with such honesty and grace. This story was beautifully written and told.
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@Wayne Gray said it perfectly: I felt exactly the same way. Yet, one can feel sadness and pain for that manifestation, as I do. Lonnie asks a good question, asking Leo “what can I do?” My own feeling is that in marrying Ty, Lonnie is going it.
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Thanks for introducing yourself. You’ll find lots of kindred writers here.
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I’m not surprised Lonnie’s brain flashes Danger. It’s one of those big red flashing lights on the interior dashboard he can’t ignore. To push the metaphor a little farther, Lonnie’s emotional system might be warning him of imminent risk, or he might have a faulty sensor. What we see in this chapter is Leo trying to hold onto more of what was individually his, and less onto what might be good for Lonnie and, by extension, what remains of what was theirs. It’s telling that Leo’s visits are fewer and farther between. This chapter took me through hope and apprehension, and I look forward to more.
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I feel as if Stacy gave solid advice - finding a professional to talk to might help Lonnie figure out what grieving means for him. Grief can look different for different people and different losses. His pain is undeniably real, and I can feel throughout this chapter.
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I liked this very much; its simplicity spoke plainly and powerfully to me.
