Parker Owens
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Everything posted by Parker Owens
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I won’t ask what, or how or if, or make remarks while off the cliff I hang by broken fingernails until your better sense prevails; for once you think what you have done from pitchforked mobs you’ll have to run.
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You made me stop and take notice of passing minutes, as if to try and feel the air move as they went by. This is beautiful.
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This chapter is a gem. Loe and Lars can perhaps return to something closer in a restored relationship. Whatever their twisted parents tried to do, it’s definitely over now. Loe has family too.
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One could see the bottom dropping out of Ray’s stomach, his cockiness turning into cowardice. Andy really didn’t want to face the ordeal of facing Ray in court. However, if Ray hadn’t folded as he did, Andy was prepared to go through with a trial appearance. This approach forced his tormentor’s hand. Ray will be out of circulation pretty much permanently, and who knows what might happen to him in prison? Anyway, thank you so much for reading and responding to Andy’s story.
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Be the Father of this Child, Chapter 13, Comment Poem
Parker Owens commented on Philippe's story chapter in Be the Father of this Child, Chapter 13, Comment Poem
What a great way to leave a comment! -
Deeper and deeper do the waters CJ swims in seem to get. That another adversary makes contact where the first one failed only means that he looks like a target. He and Owen are right to be super-vigilant about such entanglements.
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Oh, Liebe, taking you shopping could be quite an ordeal. And she’s as outgoing as her dads, so of course she’s going to try and make friends of everyone. Owen’s observation that they’ve been away a ton for having no vacation time is very apt. Our boys are due for some extended time on the job.
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I really enjoyed this chapter: without melodrama or volcanic explosions, Cindy got handed a strategic defeat. She may fight harder and shout louder, but she may now realize that her relationship with her son is not to be commanded and ordered to her every expectation.
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Thank you for posting your thoughts and feelings in this poem. Your metaphor is particularly apt.
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He's not running for anything but exercise. I loved that line. Absolutely brilliant, and probably sincere, too. Huard's questions and reporting will probably result in a terrific feature article. But CJ being thoroughly profiled will probably get Northman all prickly and annoyed again. Maybe we'll get to see CJ doing more work with individuals, just to prove that he's very good at his job, and sticking it in Northman's eye. I've learned a lot from him. Oh, yes, that's a very diplomatic response.
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Thank you, tim! I’m glad you read these. I just never seem able to resist adding the extra day.
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That’s an area I’m in greater need of knowledge.
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I am very grateful you read these and responded to them. I’m glad the idea of a summer afternoon with the composers tickled you too. I still haven’t found that croquet ball. April 26 was a tough challenge: to write a syllable count poem with each line being exactly one word. April 29 is one which grew on me after writing the first few lines. I’m happy it found a place in you, too. Many thanks again!
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Perhaps you recognized those geese now returned and nesting; April 30th prompt for a prayer was certainly an apt one in our times. I’m glad you liked the composers’ house party. It was fun to imagine. Thank you very much for reading these and responding to them!
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That’s grand. Perhaps Gus could come visit too.
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Thank you for spending a little while on this final week. I’m very glad you could hear and see some of what I did. Hugs back!
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I only wish I could host such a house party! Thanks for reading and your comments.
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You’re most welcome! Thanks again for reading.
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Many thanks for a Sunday treat. Northman’s winless streak continues. CJ and Oz plus the dads get publicity… and I want to see the final photos they published. Great chapter!
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April 25 Chopin played croquet on my back lawn, his movements elegant and fluid even as he sent Britten’s ball into the puckerbrush where Menotti and I searched for it; and from his hammock perch, Schubert watched. Tchaikovsky sat down beside my chair, a glass of cold ice tea in his hand, shaking his head at the latest scandalous news while Copeland and Barber laughed away, not quite grasping Cage’s silen
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Number 25 was the most evocative for me: by the third line, I was hearing Chopin in the back of my mind. Number 26 so aptly described some of my sleepless nights lately. In Number 23, the notion of a green shoot whispered into being made me smile, and recall variants on the creation story. Number 29 and I could understand one another, as my old shoes too often become friends with which I refuse to part. And Number 30? Yes. Unquestionably, there is an art in listening to the silences between the words, between the din of thoughts clamoring for attention. Thank you for these and all your poems this month.
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I absolutely love #8 and #9. The steh auf was a definite hit. You have my deepest sympathies for the losses April brought to you. Your sorrow reverberates in them, and I can only offer my digital hugs.
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Good for CJ, Owen and Brad for turning down advertising offers. Leave it to CJ to make more high-level friends at the reception, however. He's just stacking up calling cards and stringing network, isn't he? The Oscars will only add to that. Let's hope Miles can get to the bottom of any accounting problems with Heroes' Haven. And Fernando Llorosa can't seem to keep his foot out of his mouth. Couldn't the man have figured out how to gracefully grovel at all? If he'd done his homework, he would have been prepared to apologize handsomely and grovel if necessary - knowing CJ (at least) on sight from a photo.
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I thank you very much for taking time with these. I'm especially glad to hear that you aren't quite done with April 22nd. I hope that means you will come back to it over and again. We had snow today, but earlier this week, the querulous toads were calling in the night.
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This is really, really good. Each quatrain has its story, moving me with their vivid images.
