An excerpt .

It was not her intent to be a cliché; the single mom living hand to mouth guilt niggling at her that she is not enough for her child, insufficient; even if he looks at her like the Madonna reincarnated Now she is in college New guilt takes residence; her heart aches when sticky […]

via The Madonna – Author Brenda-Lee Ranta — Creative Talents Unleashed

Writer Highlight Featuring: Brenda-Lee Ranta — Creative Talents Unleashed

Pleading the Fifth He spoke too loudly no subtlety here, pleading the fifth to the cell phone Emphatic gestures with his free hand, litany of curses, swearing he’ll change if Sofie would only fn’ shut up and listen I tried not to watch I tried not to hear words that rolled off his tongue easily […]

via Writer Highlight Featuring: Brenda-Lee Ranta — Creative Talents Unleashed

Featured Writer: Brenda-Lee Ranta — Creative Talents Unleashed

Brenda-Lee Ranta resides in Timmins, Ontario, Canada. She shares her journey with her life partner who is a drummer, lyricist and emerging poet. She is the mother of three children, two step-children and three grand-children. Employed with her local police service, she spends her personal time writing songs with her partner, singing, reading, doing yoga, […]

via Featured Writer: Brenda-Lee Ranta — Creative Talents Unleashed

An excerpt from Chapter One 💓

Brenda-Lee Ranta resides in Timmins, Ontario, Canada. She shares her journey with her life partner who is a drummer, lyricist and emerging poet. She is the mother of three children, two step-children and three grand-children. Employed with her local police service, she spends her personal time writing songs with her partner, singing, reading, doing yoga, […]

via Featured Writer: Brenda-Lee Ranta — Creative Talents Unleashed

Poignant Anthology

Originally posted on Creative Talents Unleashed: ? I am staggering Below, the broad strides of giants All chemically safe and sound ? I am finally staggering for euphoria’s reach In a swell of despair That coats me in rot ? A shudder from within Sends the cold ground hurtling Nearer and nearer As the cries…

via Baby Steps ~ William Wright, Jr. — loftydreams101’s

Travelers

Slipknot lyrics at
barefoot cotillions
caravans call by
blazing firelight
palms upturned
are seeking solace
for a dollar
for a dime

paraded daughters
bare their breasts
tendrils fall across
their wetted lips
swaying rhythms
luring them in
for a dollar
for a dime

boiling tinctures
over open flame
cure their ills
ease their pains
family secrets
in open air bars
for a dollar
for a dime

metal coin box
with rusted lock
moving by day
as a calling card
muttered curses
casting spells
for a dollar
for a dime

as dusk is cresting
the women preen
barefoot cotillions
in caravan dreams

 ©Brenda-Lee Ranta

Of Minstrels and Sages

Burned by the kiss of sages
are lips that never speak
carried through the ages
are secrets that she keeps

Minstrels gave her pleasure
distraction from her plight
countenance unmeasured
through every tortuous night

Left forgotten and forsaken
feeling naked in their sight
then again, she was mistaken
for one who dared to fight

Through every life it lingered
an ache so deep, so wide
bewildered and beleaguered
by what still lived inside

She knew a hidden meaning
lived somewhere in a dream
the images seemed fleeting
mouth emitting silent screams

Her mind can feel so weary
repeating time and space
it just became so dreary
ancient soul, different face

‘She feels older than
the ground she stands on
Her feet feel the earth
and the earth remembers’

©Brenda-Lee Ranta

An excerpt from a unique poet…

Music, on a wave of echoes Every ripple, traces of faces, frozen in three quarter time Deliver me on a backbeat, to the heartbeat of a memory Carried on echoes Dusty days from the past smoky voices with vices, tripping in three quarter time Echoes reach out, touching, someone, anyone, everyone Little […]

via Carried on Echoes – Author Hugh Dysart — Creative Talents Unleashed

An excerpt from my book, Allegories.

No mother should bury their child. awake one morning, trapped in a living nightmare; her daughter had passed in her sleep, leaving her broken and soul shocked, forever anchored to despair she cocooned herself, fervently living for her daughter’s children, in honour to her, in reverence for her, through every year, loving […]

via Mothers of Angels – Author Brenda-Lee Ranta — Creative Talents Unleashed