http://slow.writerscafe.org/MaryBosworth The original writings of author Mary Bosworth en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776016779 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 The birth of the soulHarmoniousness sunriseThe moment of lifeAs one opens his eyesA biography has begunLessons and mistakesLearning to existWhatever it takesFriendships and familyBecome stronger each daySome stay foreverSome walk awayProfessions and careersLovers and foesThe torn in your heartOr the.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MaryBosworth/1410179/ I have never felt And feeling doesn't know me. The cards I was dealt Are worthless, blank and empty. Untouched by the color of love I stand inside my house of cards, Unsure if I'm below or above, Protected from knowing by white-out guards. I am cold and soulless, Hollow and rotten and dead From the .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MaryBosworth/1408998/ It doesn't matterWhen all is said and done Who is right? Who is wrong ? Who lost? Who won?It's all vanityThe setting of the sunWith rest on both heartsWhether together or apartSo let's fix our eyes On the one who holds the TruthAnd turn awayFrom the things that divide me and youIt only mattersThat H.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MaryBosworth/1408175/ Glory be to the elevated Body,The spiritual Body of Heavenly saints,Those who received their eternal crown,The faithful, the martyrs, the planters.This Divine and Mystical Body of Christ,The communion of saints in its fullness,Exults in the light of the Lord of lords.There are no Temples in their Ki.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MaryBosworth/1406849/ Air snapsTrees divorce themselves From their leavesFramed on bare-boned canvasSummer succumbsStainless steel rosaryClenched in her palmIntrusionNever her intentionHer suns devotedTo the solemn study of treesShe weeps her seasonIn decaying leaves http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MaryBosworth/1406425/ Eyes don't fadeimpressions hiding , maybe.Left to the windover and underwonders nevercease to amazethe Heartthe MindNo matter whatinflammatory as I am ... still Ileave imprints on your Heart...Hurtis the biggest partPain is like a whipevery-time I get strongI slip, like a knot.It can suffocateor inv.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MaryBosworth/1405960/ Gliding through life on a magical pen I return to my daydreamsagain and again and record them,for me, not for posterity. And if I do not write for myself then for whom would it be? If I wrote to please others it wouldn't sound like me... and it'd be simply a reflection from a fragmented mirror. I wr.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MaryBosworth/1405685/ and so i closed my mindfrom the piney needlesadorned and adoredand mightily sothough...the scenthad turned to sol....soul rubbing..one against other so as to losenoto shine lustre each their own otherbeautyyes http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MaryBosworth/1402683/ Written in 2005, when my marriage of 30 years came to an end. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MaryBosworth/1402282/ Healing handsEase pain in heartsLonging to feel loved againThoughtful momentsShared as a giftFor nourishmentTaking on tearsOf anotherMending - piece by pieceIf all I hadIf all I wantedWas to healAnd if the sound of smilingAnd if the sound of voicesAnd if the sound of you becoming anewWas all I was b.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MaryBosworth/1401348/ on the island of innocence there is a tree which bears the fruit of children’s toes five bits of wonder on each footthere are brown toes with hints of cinnamonlittle pink toes that are slightly berry scentedmellow yellow toes which smell like bananathen there are the multi hued rainbow toesall.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MaryBosworth/1400183/ The darkness grinned having seenthe sun’s farewell glideto hide behind Cathedral’s dome.There it sets its glow.Gone are the motes of dust.The thin iridescent rayshave fallen apart and are gone.But behind the tall steeple, above the dark, lonely semi-circle, the sky, so distant in dayligh.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MaryBosworth/1399505/ in life i oftenrun in circlesforgettingto sit with herto hold her hand(in silence)on the wayto the hospitalin pain againi wonderwhat more can they do(besides up her meds)shedding the skin of lifewalking towards the light(or darkness?)leaving her decrepitbeautiful bodyi want to hold her hand(in silen.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MaryBosworth/1399488/ All you men...What lies in your fists? In your eyes, Tongue, & Mind? Your packs of godsOffer drops of life, & we womenCarry it, Bake it& endure itUntil it becomes A seed of heaven, Which we fed with our mouth, Caressed with our blood, & heard its bubbling songsof lifeThrough our skin.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MaryBosworth/1399487/ don't box me inthe confines ofyour squared edgestoo sharpto suit my curvingmoralitydon't you knowcomplacencyis a bondage?made smallby comfortmy mongrel heartdiscerns the trapsnatching baitbefore the latchis snapped http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MaryBosworth/1399486/ Hearts don't fadeimpressions hiding , maybe.Left to the windover and underwonders nevercease to amazethe Heartthe MindNo matter whatinflammatory as I am ... still Ileave imprints on your Heart...Hurtis the biggest partPain is like a whipevery time I get strongI slip, like a knot.It can suffocateor i.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MaryBosworth/1398939/ Voices coagulating into agreementand silences darkening into oblivionas closing pubs vomit their crowdsinto dimly lit streets -tired journeys breaking to a halt!You are intrinsically sadas a street lamp touches the tipsof graveyard headstonesthrough the shade of dark forest trees.All horizons dumbst.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MaryBosworth/1398328/ my hands are getting oldevery vein now proudly stands to attentionas if I were a junkiefilling themwith livingthey appear a little roughlike i never listened long enoughto the etiquette teacherwhen she warned usabout ungloved hands and the harmful disaster associated withtoo much sunlighton pal.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MaryBosworth/1396797/ My daughter's smileIs twelve hours distantBut homeIs as close as the doors of sleep.My son's aggressionis five hours awayBut home is always filled with peanut butterand jam sandwiches.There is grass in my CanadaBecause I planted it:Not for the passing dayBut for a life. In the catalogue of futuresWe.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MaryBosworth/1396629/ Delirium's downpour Swamps the tides of evening. Gin sets lips to champagne. Night sweats; pearls of sweat Squat in armpit and crotch. Breathing labours. The mosquito makes his rounds, Stirring the air with unease. On the wall, The family founder, Peers out of the Victorian permafrost. Wood Swells w.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MaryBosworth/1396628/ So I haven't told you yetI'm falling apart again. Not a major evisceration mind you, so don't panic.I haven't hit defcon 4. Not in the red yet. But the idiot lights are going off. I think I've got my desperation well hidden it shouldn't make the major news. Just a few pieces falling off is all. "bea.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MaryBosworth/1395660/ Well, for whatever causeThere was no answer So write I didA catharsis per seOf an interest that was not to be . . .So alikeYet very differentTwo sides in oneLoving Indifferent . . .The wall goes upThe distance is safeTo be loving or be guardedWhich shall the loved ones’ see . . .A game of inte.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MaryBosworth/1395658/ Glossy with death,He loses interest in the traffic ticket world.His lifeIs a hand of aces,All he needs.Allies? Unnecessary.All his pawns are queens.In the perfect circle of his recombinant squareThe discipline of charity is lost.His shadow is a monumentTo self-esteem.DeathHas bloated his self-import.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MaryBosworth/1395632/ wordsthey blur on the horizonblue on bluethe way i feelits too much to account forthe drops within this seaevery word that has been spokensomewhere in this great wide openevery tear that fills this oceanmirroring the endless skyits unforgiving sunfinds me where there is no shoreno shade, no shelterj.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MaryBosworth/1395631/ He said:I may marry, but it won't be youI may have children, but it won't be youHe said:Do you want to be my friend?yesWhen he leftshe thoughtperhaps to tossher self offthe third floorbalconyInsteadto keep herselfbusyshe cut offher long mahogany hair.When it was baggedshe didn't thinkabout the balco.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MaryBosworth/1394077/ Although you still view mebroken, with gaping woundsdiscarded as unfixableYou've decided that I'm unworthyof love, caresses and kissesThe saving grace of healingshall mend all my woundsrestore my heart and soulSo next time you view meI shall be rendered wholefully capable to reject you http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MaryBosworth/1394040/ The knife was blunt My flesh was weak Meat tender I thought about your hungry eyes again or hunger or the meat I can't remember The meat I carved was scarlet like the sin I felt as if I almost loved a stranger I almost smelled the salt on pulsing skin Oh, salt Forgot I almost cut my finger when chop.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MaryBosworth/1394039/ White inkblots                Spattered across a blue sky.                A god lying             &n.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MaryBosworth/1394037/