Sunday, April 30, 2017
Poetry Series, Patty Kline Capaldo
CLAMMING UP
by Patty Kline Capaldo
They tickle the back of my throat
Unspoken tear-filled words
That might have let you know
You hurt me so
I close my mouth, the chords constrict
‘Round lumps of silent pain
But I cannot let you know
You hurt me so
To share my pain would add to yours
No healing can be gained
So I will not let you know
You hurt me so
Years roll by in muted ache when
You leave me on a sigh
For I never let you know
I loved you so
MicroFiction Series, Fred W Feldman
By Fred W. Feldman
Transcription:
Polly was in a hospital bed in 4b. Jets of warm light streamed onto the white sheet. Her friend was in the room also. Polly sat silently. Then she spoke. “The cancer is in my brain, Rod.” Rod nodded and smiled. “Let’s put on some music.” Rod went to the record player. He picked out a record, then he fished a file out of his pocket and began filing away at the record. “I think this is track 8,” he said. “I’m messing it up.” He examined his handiwork, then put the record on. “I guess we’ll find out when we get to track 8.” Polly wished she had socks.
Photo Series, Nathaniel Lieberman
These are pictures I took on our annual father-son drive up Pikes Peak, Colorado. for me these pictures represent fortitude, fatherly bond and perspective on how small we really all are.
You can see more of my work on my Instagram @nathaniel.lieberman
Short Fiction/Memoir Series, Abby Cohen
Don’ t Blame Canada
by Abby Cohen
One of my favorite stories is one about an elevator. My family had gone on vacation to Canada. (Note: I’m not blaming Canada for what happened, so don’t blame Canada.)
We were in Montreal, I think. Possibly, Toronto. Us kids had run ahead of my parents into the elevator. We hit the first floor button as my parents were catching up to us. So, we hit the “Door Open” button. The doors stuck with only a crack open, and then refused to budge in either direction.
Through the crack, we could see my parents on the other side. We could speak with them too; although, conversation was impossible because my sister was screaming, “We were going to suffocate and die!” She threw herself on the floor, and continued to carry on, kicking and screaming without stopping. As you might imagine, this was very loud within the confines of an elevator.
My brother, a young man of action, found the emergency phone. He used it to demand that we be rescued. Me, realizing that we could be stuck for a while, did what I did best. I sat down, curled up in a corner of the elevator, pulled the book out of my pocket, and began to read.
I remember it was a book about the presidents of the United States of America with a chapter dedicated to each one, up to the current president of the time of its publication. I don’t remember much detail except that we are supposed to feel sorry for Franklin Pierce for some reason and Gerald Ford was left-handed. The main thing I remember is the chapter on John Adams who liked to take his daily constitutional swim in the Potomac. In the nude. A female reporter who had been repeatedly denied an interview, showed up one morning, sat down on his clothes, and refused to move until he promised her an interview. Presumably, at some point after she left and he got dressed, he followed through on his promise. Wait a minute. There was a female reporter? In what year?
Poetry Series, Sam Traten
Tantrum in the Supermarket
A beehive of motion, a buzz of wing-like elbows,
a clash of carts, a frenzy for the queen's royal
jelly of stockpiled wealth from the orchard's bounty.
Easy to laugh at and fun to watch, pre-storm
activity appears both animal and human. Naturally,
faced with a period of shut-down, shut-in,
we bury nuts in the pantry, hide-hoard milk, butter,
and eggs. Are we ever more alive than this, when nature disregards our comfort, her
toddler-tantrums disrupting the kiddie table, the one
just steps away from our mature-adult sophisticated
chatter, our measured civility? Ah, the good life. But what's that child up
to? She's always had a mind of her own, that big little weathermonster.
She's so cute though. We love her but this is a bit much. Who's
child is that? Why Esther, she's yours.
Can't you control her?
Sam Traten 03.19.2017
Youth Photo Series, Nature
"These photos were taken at Jenkins Arboretum. I enjoy playing with light, filters, and (like in the last one) the PRISMA photo-editing app to make nature more dream-like." -Harrison, age 11
Saturday, April 29, 2017
Affinity CoLab's Artists to Watch, Katie Schmidt McMurry
One of Affinity CoLab's latest Artists to Watch is Katie Schmidt McMurry. McMurry's sense of design, social justice, and humor translate well in textiles and gifts that promote peace and togetherness during a time of fracture within our society. Check out her AMAZING artist shop here!
Affinity CoLab's For the Love of Books Event
For the Love of Books was born as concept one day after a traditional 4th Sunday Story/Poetry Slam when I found myself sitting with a handful of published authors who'd come in support of the event. I found myself questioning, "If there was an event where authors could come and build community with each other and possibly sell some books, would you be interested?"
Featured writers included: Marianne Modica, Sharon Hajj, Kim Lehman, David Moskowitz, Dottie and Roger Small, Rae Theodore, Karen Meadows, Susan Weidener, Ginger Murphy, and Patty Kline Capaldo.
Check out our new FEATURED BOOKS page for more information and to purchase the books read at this event!
We will be returning to our regularly scheduled Story/Poetry Slam (open mic for local writers) May 28th. Prompt TBA on our Events page soon!
Happy Creating,
Katy Comber
Founder and Curator
Affinity CoLab
Sunday, April 23, 2017
Coming soon!
The Spring Edition is coming! Get ready for: New prompts! New challenges! New author and book recommendations! New poetry and videos and art! It's all coming to a screen near you... April 30th!!! Hooray! Tune in. This edition is worth the wait.
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