http://slow.writerscafe.org/FrancescaG The original writings of author Francesca en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1775985126 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 Today I will tell you one of my darkest memories.  A very specific and recent memory of the day that changed everything. I will never forget the day he died.  Hopefully after telling you my memory, neither will you. It was a quiet, Sunday morning and I was strolling through the park with .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/FrancescaG/757074/ Mid 1920's, Chicago...The uptight, daylight people living above the radar in need of loosening up...Take a trip to a shadowy building, abandoned in the day, wakes up at the midnight hour, in the underground...Clickety clackety shoes cut up the stage,Red sequins flash with a grin, blond curls and ski.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/FrancescaG/742229/ An amazing fruit salad that my mother made. It's an acrostic poem that talks about the wonders of summer and the great taste of fruit salad. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/FrancescaG/741550/ totally forgot about this poem, i wrote it months ago and just found it. for the few lines that are in Spanish, i gave translations below. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/FrancescaG/740227/ Although burning passion burnsBrighter than the blinding sunThe passion is for what was said,what goes unsaid, in uninspiredfightless love.The passion found in our endless happiness,In predetermined, merit-less love.Why so complex?Pendant les temps nouveauxTo let go...of everything,For ultimate dist.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/FrancescaG/737395/ I returned back to the Cherlot house preoccupied and avoided Vivi's concerned questions.  Truthfully, I was terrified of going back outside this afternoon, but I felt obligated.  "To earn my keep" as Bethany had suggested. Throughout the day, my terror increased but I managed to keep it q.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/FrancescaG/732397/ Bump.  Bump.  Every little crack in the road caused our tiny, tin-pot car to shake like a bull had rammed into its side.  I grumbled under my breath and glanced at my reflection in the side mirror, which was heavily taped to the car so that it wouldn't fall off.  The places wher.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/FrancescaG/731134/ The raindrops falling from the abismal sky onto my bald head were like individual clocks, counting down the time I had with each plop. I had left Dharla as soon as we got to the front gate and barged through security like I owned the whole city, all the while refining my plan.  Within minutes,.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/FrancescaG/729256/ The air sparkled with the rush of commerce and tingled with anticipation.  Jewelry-sellers displayed showily in one smelly corner, pottery merchants swindled in another, and a man grinning with a gold tooth sold amulets that "Keep away the demons." These were daily habits of a dusty market in .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/FrancescaG/726905/ http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/FrancescaG/726901/ Getting down to the doctors' rooms was simple, as I now knew what time they were all in the cafeteria to drink every other day, and not in their rooms. I gulped the sweet blood quickly, then pretended to go up to my room, walking on tiptoe. Easy, so far.It was amazing how clear my mind could be wh.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/FrancescaG/572382/ I woke with a jerk of my foot, springing me out of the strange position in which I had fallen asleep. My head throbbed as my vision slowly came back to me, little green stars bursting in front of my eyes in the dark room. Suddenly, the previous day came rushing back into my mind and I sighed hopeles.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/FrancescaG/563461/ The sunlight hit me like a drumstick hits the tightly stretched skin of its drum; sharp and loud, unexpected and dazzling. It was shining directly above the large field whose edge we were now standing on with bated breath. The light threw my scars and purple bruises sharply into relief; I could bare.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/FrancescaG/561650/ It's rewritten and shorter than the first one. I'm making the chapters split up more. Very small differences from the first version http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/FrancescaG/559348/ It was all very beautiful, of course. The clouds hung low over the acres upon acres of farmland and the beautiful Gothic mansion, as though trying to get close enough to touch it, and become part of its beauty.The infinite hues of roses and tulips and other flowers whose names I didn't know were e.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/FrancescaG/540075/ a poem about a cloud :) (creative writing class assignment) http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/FrancescaG/538896/ Your shorts are too big for you,You have scabs on your knees.I can count the ribs under your bare, brown chest.Dirty black hair and dark, hopeless eyes.There are glue stains on your mouth,The ground you rest on is crumbled stone.Under a crumbling building, those are common here. .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/FrancescaG/535969/ Sitting at this table thinking,You won't come back, you're far from here.Far from telling jokesto the children, tying their shoesand watching their cartoons.Now I pour cereal for three,not four. Now you've got me thinking Thinking of the days,when we sat on this porch.You'.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/FrancescaG/531486/ un poema escrito en espanol :) a poem written in spanish. my second one, i lost the first one when writer's cafe died :( http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/FrancescaG/530219/ Morning seeped through the hospital window earlier than was usual today, as it was almost summer. The songs of birds played through the only window in the sole room on the third floor of the hospital. The hospital itself was a big gray building, overlooked by many of the businessmen and women who wa.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/FrancescaG/530018/ http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/FrancescaG/530017/ a poem based off of the painting, In Summer House (look it up!) , that I did for my creative writing class. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/FrancescaG/528137/ Describes overcoming nervousness and fear. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/FrancescaG/528088/ Hello. My name is Marv. Or maybe it was Jack. Let's go with Marv, because I really like the letter M. Anyway, I live in a fish tank and my best friend is the ceiling fan. I, Marv, with no beginning or end, am left in this fishtank to ponder my days. What shall I do on the 756th? Swim to t.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/FrancescaG/526336/ Three months later, and I still could not get back my swagger. Three bottles of rum and tequila into the day and I had already forgotten about losing my swagger.  It was one in the afternoon and I was sitting at home, as usual. My apartment was pretty much a wreck. It seemed that I had lost.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/FrancescaG/523598/ As I stare at this boarding pass,while I stand in line at security,I dream of the place I leave behind me.A place where the sky is bluer,and the grass is greener,never covered with white winter.Somewhere where people smile more often,Can't wait till I return. I'm not going the.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/FrancescaG/522569/ In a wide, empty black fieldTrying to forget you care.My muscles are weak,and my limbs start to shake.I forget how to breathe,Throwing my memories beneath,the bed.  Crying,         Bang!I wake up, and the nightmare ends.I make myself ove.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/FrancescaG/522561/ Whistling wind rustles the grass,freshly green and newly sprouted from the dirt.Spring dawns      brightand flowers    abound.A bouquet of vincas, purple, pink and white,lies against a grave, their petalsrustled by the whistling wind.A freshly b.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/FrancescaG/522559/ Though I was caged in the dull yellow school bus, I could still catch whispers of the intensly throbbing heat outside.  The  unseasonably bright October sun shown through the half-open bus window, burning a whole through my sun burnt scalp and filling my head with its angry white light. .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/FrancescaG/500349/ http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/FrancescaG/500347/ Staring into your merciless, black eyes, Raging with fury, raging for freedom I wondered what was coming next You had already lifted me into the air, dropped me back down And now I'm swinging, round and round You whip back your mane, swing your tail sassily Warning your next rider; Bew.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/FrancescaG/293998/ I see the twinkle in your eye The pip in your step The tint on your skin The curls in your hair The talents in your body Whether you be Royal, a slave, or just an ordinary person You are all works of art God is our sculptor, Our painter, Our friend. Giving each of us a face.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/FrancescaG/293995/ In our small world of dolls Our small hands Our unrespected thoughts Our sculpted bodies Are you perhaps a princess? With pampered skin, pricless items Hidden life, forbidden friendship But physical beauty all the same Are you perhaps a warrior? Who never backs down Never.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/FrancescaG/293981/