https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/stbond/Sarah Torribio-Bond shares her writing, discusses wordsmiths of note, excavates the writing process, and invites readers to pick up their own pens. hourly12000-01-01T12:00+00:00https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/stbond/542457The ocean is not blue, says the clam, whose discerning pink tissue is old enough to know, and the clownfish, whose tears—lonelier for the hot-breath bench press of his fancy-dress inmate schoolmates—are indeed that color which the turgid ocean is anything but... The ocean is not blue, my chum,...https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/stbond/539560Hot acid sweat. Full strawberry blush. Gibbering gibbous moon fever. Shyness, you are a cosmic event of much bother and little importance. You show yourself, clumsy planet the size of a T-ball target, and the seas lurch twice, my best intentions falter and I am suddenly an orangutan, hugely...https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/stbond/528773I set off in search of the source of the spring. I carried a forked stick and wore angel wings. I entered a grotto, all mist-wet and cold, and tossed in the water a small coin of gold. I filled up a flask, wet my lips, and then prayed 'till a sweet, roes-toed vision appeared in the spray....https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/stbond/525668"Leta went on to become a therapist. She only counsels Cancers, which she considers to be the most sensitive of all signs."https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/stbond/525441I believe in three things: cleanliness, productiveness and efficiency. I couldn't have any children so I like to think of everything I create—every piping-hot casserole, fluffy meringue and jiggling Jello salad as my offspring. I smile because I am so proud of my Kenmore children, my Frigidaire...https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/stbond/522995I got me a pair of traveling shoes, but I ain't got nowhere to go. The man, he tells me, "Monday's work, and, Baby, you'd better show." The landlord tells me, "Rent's near due, and you know you've gotta pay." That money I've been saving in an old tin can is slowly draining away. The pyramids in...https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/stbond/522982Many poems speak of love that is unattained—desired. But I would speak to love that I have blissfully acquired. Your presence doesn’t make me swoon, instead it makes me strong. My love doesn’t wax like the changing moon, it grows the whole day long. I’d liken you to a magic mirror, I see beauty...https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/stbond/521761My poems create no scandals, though I take pains to present them always naked from the waist down. I encode—between tender buds and thirsty butterflies—recipes for explosives and directives for assassinations. My wires remain stubbornly untapped, my political importance impeached by unfettered...https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/stbond/521751I used to go absolutely batty when it came to my writing. I still do, in fact. When I am working on longer projects—like two unfinished novels I need to get back to, or an epic poem I wrote a while back that took me two years to complete--I am certain I will never be done. In fact, like many...https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/stbond/515758Stop at the foundry and get some steel drums, play some calypso and spike things with rum, practice some voodoo and piracy, too, pour sand in an hourglass and make some goat stew, trade cash for some galleons, put musk in my hair, sit in saunas as practice for a life of damp air, buy sandals and...