http://slow.writerscafe.org/emilysutliff The original writings of author Emily Sutliff en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1775957670 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 My take on a two lined stanza sestina. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/emilysutliff/1748470/ It’sfunny how known we are.Howmuch we are able to know each other without knowing anything.Haveyou ever thought about how many strangers’ pictures you’re in the backgroundof?Howmany days you made by being yourself?Anemployee at a store you encountered th.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/emilysutliff/1747203/ Ilike the feeling of having a “familiar.”Afamiliar place where we are a bit more easywithour minds.Thekind of familiar taste you crave at a local pub that existsnowhereelse.Thatone familiar person that enlightens your soul, and only this person gives you a.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/emilysutliff/1747060/ Weare wired to be grateful in hiccups-Whensomething bad happens, we’re quick to judge,quickto consider the negative and cling to what we have.Whensomething good happens,Webecome novelists, who want to share our worldWithother worlds and writing books about how .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/emilysutliff/1745046/ Today I just sat.I sat and I drank some tea. I sat and wondered whose heart I can be a home to. I wondered what kind of heartI will encounter. Will I encounter an anxious heartwith a troubled past? Or, maybe an excited one, with.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/emilysutliff/1744564/ A random thought process that turned into a poem of some sort :) http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/emilysutliff/1744380/ This is a poem in reaction to one of Edgar Degas's piece, "Le Viol" http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/emilysutliff/1734314/ 2A.M. Iremember when she died the first time. It was so sudden and I wasn’t ready forchange. I never like to show emotion because she always told me to be strong.The first night was the hardest. Going to bed knowing I will wake up and neversee her loving face is what sha.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/emilysutliff/1733375/ Him I’min a room full of stares.Theymust see what I see.She looks downand notices her legs.She stares anddiscovers the frail outline of her silhouette.It’sokay, though.Ihave him. Hehelps me see the dark when the light is too bright.O.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/emilysutliff/1733296/ This poem is about how my special time of the day specifically takes place early on a winter morning. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/emilysutliff/1733277/