Parker Owens
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Everything posted by Parker Owens
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Given the slant and heavily skewed trial, one can hardly have expected anything different from the jury. Now Liam must be sentenced, and I suppose there will be pressure to see him sentenced as an adult. Yet we know he will one day be paroled.
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There’s so much that’s disturbing in this chapter: Luke turning Jackson aside, the not-wholly-comfortable vibe at the after-after-party, and the wrath of Cindzilla. I fear that wrath is permanent, implacable and destined to hurt Luke at least as much as it does Jackson. I fear for them both.
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Diverted and Invitation
Parker Owens commented on Parker Owens's story chapter in Diverted and Invitation
The phone is a liar and a tease. It’s no real friend. I’d much rather spend my afternoon with my friend in person. Someday it may be possible to do this more easily, and without apprehension. Thanks very much for reading these, and for your thoughts. -
Diverted and Invitation
Parker Owens commented on Parker Owens's story chapter in Diverted and Invitation
I love that you used the word savoured. Sometimes, reading a poem aloud brings out flavors and textures in words that I’d miss in silent reading. Hugs and thanks for reading these, and for your encouragement. -
Diverted and Invitation
Parker Owens commented on Parker Owens's story chapter in Diverted and Invitation
I’m very happy you came back again to these. You’re quite right about Invitation. It seemed like a perfect late afternoon/late summer sonnet. The phone is the worst mirror; it’s neither always true, nor reliable. I wish I could throw mine away sometimes. Thank you very much for your comments! -
Diverted I'm greeted in the morning by the sight: a dull reflection mimics every move; there is no picture there, nor image bright, and now I see how hard today will prove. Each day is different, yet this simple glance can change the course of living in a trice from bleak despair to such a happy dance, depending whether what I see is nice. This glass upon the world I call my own will never heal it's cracked and silvere
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Chapter 5 Sweet-talking Ways
Parker Owens commented on Headstall's story chapter in Chapter 5 Sweet-talking Ways
Well, now it’s all plain and in the open, or most of it is, anyhow. If Mitch and Will can set aside two decades of separation and anger for an hour, and if Will can accept Mitch’s fading health, maybe they can finish their days happier than they started.- 64 comments
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And so the jury has the case to decide. The judge made it quite clear what he thought, and hobbled the defense to suit. If the jury finds Liam guilty of manslaughter, that in itself would seem a miracle.
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I’d agree that Spikey had a reasonable point. Yet, just as it’s possible (though improbable) for multiple safety system mechanisms to fail in a billion dollar spacecraft, it’s also possible for multiple so-called responsible adults to fail in learning to know one priceless teenager. Ackerman’s value as a jock seems to outweigh any intrinsic worth Stefan may possess.
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@BlueWindBoy Thank you very much for adding this to the reaction/comment thread. You’ve hit upon the kind of survival too many kids - and adults - have to face every day. The obstacle course kids have to face in the street would daunt an Olympian.
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As with so much else in this story, this chapter was enjoyable for the humor, delight, and love shown in it. One hopes that Jackson and Luke’s next time will be more comfortable.
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Thank you for taking time to read and comment on these. It’s interesting to re-read them as we hurtle toward a different equinox. The owls, of which we’re both fond, have started calling again, stirred by the first cool breath of wind in weeks. There is much to add to my rejoicing, but that may have to wait until I sharpen my pencil.
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Thank you so much for your comments. Your feelings echo my own. I sometimes wonder whether some of our contemporaries think Saint Peter was given duplicate keys to heaven, and that they somehow inherited a set. But what I think most of all is that it’s incredibly sad no one will remember a person for how strict or forbidding one was, but rather for the deep and broad love one showed. Blessings and thanks.
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I suppose I should not tar every saint with my brush of opprobrium. If the historical record is correct, there were a number of saints whose lives were examples of mercy, justice, love, and generosity. These are the ones best remembered. Those whose lives were models of severity seem to be mostly forgotten, or so it appears to me. Thanks very much for taking time to read this one, and for your comments.
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He might have remained true to his heart and flesh and blood, but turned instead to dogma that neither warms nor lives. You’re right: there are many kinds of stone. Thanks for reading all these and for your comments!
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Short Essays on Summer Vacation
Parker Owens commented on Parker Owens's story chapter in Short Essays on Summer Vacation
There was a comma moon overhead this morning; it signifies the passing of the season, and far too soon for my liking. Thanks for coming along with me! -
It’s heartening to know this invented form has found a receptive ear. Now I shall have to renew my acquaintance with Edgar Allen as a poet. I’m very grateful you took time to read these and to respond to them.
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I’ve never thought of Haiku that way, but you’re quite right. I find it impossible to stop after just a single one. But now I will be thinking of butterflies that look like potato chips. Thanks so much for reading these!
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The change in meter and pattern can be jarring, or maybe just enough to give one pause over those lines. Thanks for your thoughts and for considering these poems.
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The summer light is fainting, but the images of these days remain imprinted on my brain. I hope you could see them too. Thanks for your thoughts and comments.
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I’m so glad you can see the scene and the saint in his churchyard niche. The saint turned to stone in his heart, made cold by dogma or circumstance long before his heart stopped beating. Thank you so very much for reading and responding to this.
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Indeed, the stone saint can see the couple on the grass, and doing such things as he dared not consider. He turned away and turned to stone, long before the carver lifted his chisel. Thanks so much for reading this, and for encouraging me.
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The marble saint watches from his place, but cannot participate in anything he sees. You’re very kind to have read this, and I’m grateful for your comments.
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The saint eternal in his niche has lost the words to pray through countless seasons now unscrolled in sunny skies or grey, nor does he know which month is which though bees and birds might play before his visage, hard and cold, that lovers might dismay. His robes no longer catch the breeze, no sparkle glints his eye, nor cheerful tune can pass those lips since chipped in years gone by and flashing smiles have ceased
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What chance might Liam have on appeal? He has none at all with this judge. Closing arguments will be a rehash of the heavily slanted testimony, followed by the judge’s utterly biased summing up. It would be a wonder if Liam isn’t sent down for several decades.
