The time has come!
I would like to thank everyone who participated in this contest, and a huge congratulations to the winner…
With his poem, A Dream I Think I Once Had
Congratulations, your poem was incredible, and I absolutely adored it.
I’m sure everyone is dying to hear who the winners of my writing contest are. (Now closed).
I have received over 30 submissions, and they were all so incredible, the decision is not coming easy. Thank you to everyone who submitted, I loved all of your pieces.
The winner will be announced on April 25th.
The top three runner ups (in no particular order) are;
Thank you again for everyone who participated, and keep an eye out for the winner 🙂
Check out my book, The Four Stages of Poetry, available on amazon!
I’m sure everyone is dying to hear who the winners of my writing contest are. (Now closed).
I have received over 30 submissions, and they were all so incredible, the decision is not coming easy. Thank you to everyone who submitted, I loved all of your pieces.
The winner will be announced on April 25th.
The top five runner ups (in no particular order) are;
Thank you again for everyone who participated, and keep an eye out for the winner 🙂
Check out my book, The Four Stages of Poetry, available on amazon!
Hello, hello, hello!
If you’ve just joined, welcome, and I hope you enjoy your stay. If you’ve been around, trust me, I recognize you with every like or comment, and I’m glad you’ve decided to stick around.
I’m happy to say, I’ve reached 500 of you (insanity)
Upon reaching such a goal I never saw myself reaching, I’ve decided to hold a writing contest. Submit your poem, prose, or short story to be featured on this blog, an author copy of my book, The Four Stages of Poetry and a chance to co-write with me, if you desire to do so.
Rules;
In order to be eligible for this contest, you must like this post, and comment to let me know you have decided to participate (This allows me to check and make sure your submission is not lost in spam, etc). Everyone is welcome, and encouraged to participate. You will then submit your piece to my contact page.
Your piece can consist of any topic or theme except;
You may submit up to three pieces.
Poems and prose may be any length (within moderation of course, I will not accept novel length poems).
Short stories must not exceed 1000 words.
Contest closes April 20th.
Winner will be announced April 25th.
Thank you so much for 500 followers, and happy writing!!
Thinking was never my greatest subject in school. It would travel off the task to darker places than what was assigned, but my friend became the teacher, and I’m confident I passed this exam. They told me they believe I’m addicted to the pain, afraid to get better, then asked me why I surround myself with the poetry and music. No beats are missed when I tell them my answer in three parts;
I. I read the poems in search for the comfort in knowing there are others with the same pains, struggles, and frustrations. That I am not alone in every thing I feel, think, and overthink. I love the realness every metaphor can hold.
II. I listen to the music for the same beautiful relationship between the lyrics and my life, carried along by the sounds they create.
III. I write not to be trapped by the pain, but to release it, turn it into something other than everything trapped in my brain, to keep me going until the next good day.
I don’t like when people look over my shoulder as I write. There is a specific kind of embarrassment in the vulnerability of someone witnessing the unfinished thoughts and emotions I am trying to create into imagery. I fear the untimely judgement that follows.
*This is a fictional letter written from the perspective of a nurse to her husband during WWI*
Joseph,
I’ve been in France for a while now, and it has been way harder than you can even imagine. They assigned me to what they call around here as ‘the tent.’ Though I’ve never seen them (we aren’t allowed to leave the tent, always available if need be), I’ve heard talking from the doctors who help bring in the wounded that we are somewhere near the trenches. They dug trenches to fight from, and it’s so loud. There’s screaming and crying and sometimes, we hear the drones overhead, the other nurses described as little planes used to fight with. I’m writing this over the course of a couple nights, so you’ll have to excuse any inconsistencies.
Before I continue, I need you to know that I care deeply for you. I miss you dearly and couldn’t imagine being in the position of these soldiers, or their wives at home. I understand their pain to a certain extent, but could never fully understand. I hope all is well with the kids. Please make sure that Gabe is eating well, and that Alex is watching out for her brother. Oh, I hope you’re dealing with this well, I hate that I left while you were so sick. I volunteered with the VAD (Voluntary Aid Detachment) because I wanted to help people where my expertise would be better utilized. I feel that these soldiers need someone empathetic to work on and with them. They are all so worried, being without their loved ones, not knowing whether or not they’ll ever make it home. I just want to make it at least a little bit better here for them, and give them some hope for a future. A shoulder to cry on, quite literally.
I work with a lot of nurses and doctors. The male doctors are rather rude. The think they’re better than us just because they’re male and we’re nurses. The only thing the other nurses seem to care about is going home, or swooning over the doctors. It’s a bit infuriating and sometimes I just want to go home too, but I always put my patients first. I just keep telling myself that these people need me, but it just keeps getting worse and worse. Yesterday, I saw a portable xray machine for the first time. A remarkable tool, really, but today, I witnessed a man with burns everywhere, and oh, the smell. It was horrible. They called me in to try and help him out, and I learned what a flame thrower is. It’s a horrible weapon they created that blows fire. He was a lost cause, and I cried for hours.
I fear that I might start becoming numb to others pain, a stone heart like the other nurses. I no longer cry or cringe at the wailing from the injured. They’ve had me working on the US and French soldiers and those that don’t speak English are harder to operate on because I don’t really understand what they need. I still do my best to give them the company they need while fulfilling my job as a nurse. Most of them are so grateful, and it makes me wonder how they got here. I guess most of them were deported, sent to war against their choosing.
I hope this makes it to you,
Marysa
Not sure how to share myself so check me out on wattpad
Handle is @MarysaWrites
User is just Marysa Writes
🙂
Marysa Writes 