The Edit (Jorio)

Write, think, write, pause

Rearrange the good words

Dispose of the bad

Consider: ditch the lot

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50 Word Stories – 3G

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Behind every twitched curtain, eyes twinkled. The issue came with whether they twinkled with glee, gladness or gore. How could one judge a sparkle in the night, a flash in infinity except with one’s heart. So, I walked through that village to nowhere smiling sweet kindnesses. I didn’t walk out.

50 Word Stories: Monumental

Monumental!
They announced the decision with the aplomb reserved for a new president, monarch or life-saving drug. People smiled, wiped sweaty foreheads with relief, clapped each other's backs and toasted the scientists' genius. I packed my suitcase and left. Delusions were never my thing. I loved life too much.

50 Word Stories: Priorities

Someone’s inverted the sea. A wet cloud hangs suspended overhead just waiting for release. But when?
Priorities: have I time to shop; visit; do this and that? Time to get a coffee – always time for that.
Conclusion: I daren’t risk anything but the coffee. Best stay home and write.

Equinox Issues


 For a spilt second in time,
 A moment of celestial bliss
 All is in balance.
 
 Yet, we all pause on the precipice
 Of our own personal Equinoxes,
 As they seek to tip.
 
 Do we fool ourselves
 Limited to our own little shards
 Of cosmos?
 
 Or, is the movement of Earth
 And Sun and Moon
 That decisive.
 
 So many big decisions
 For so many billions of people.
 Curse the equator’s curve.
 
 
 
 
 
 

The Distance Between Lies and the Truth

The distance between lies and the truth
 Immeasurable, some might say.
 As beauty to the beholder,
 The boundaries become obscured
 Sometimes purposely, sometimes not.
 The limits of our soul and all that makes us good
 Decided by the crossing of one supposed solid.
 Blame it on the fog of the question,
 Society, everything and everyone,
 But never yourself.
 Even striving to qualify the lie to make it the truth.
 The lie becomes that which we wish.
 We just couldn’t help it.
 Rubbish!
 Don’t be drawn by poetics,
 As it still doesn’t make it right.