Oh Little Lady
In the four walls closed,
She's weaving her dreams,
So fragile, she seems,
Still hoping for good.
In her lonesome room,
She is shedding tears,
Does anyone care?
Still caring for all.
"Emerging Writers, Serious Writers"
since 2009
In the four walls closed,
She's weaving her dreams,
So fragile, she seems,
Still hoping for good.
In her lonesome room,
She is shedding tears,
Does anyone care?
Still caring for all.
The streetlight shares
Its golden snow on
A cool January Night.
The black sky of suburbia
Is its subject as
The flakes are delivered
By concealed storks in flight
Away in the house nearby
I watch,
Endlessly…
Likes the harshness of sunlight. Walk through the sun. You have to go to work by bus. Different passengers are getting off at different stops. Two sidewalk shops are opening and closing in the…
What drew you to the subject matter? What is it about elephants?
An Interview with Michael Miller, winner of the Open Community Poetry Contest, January-March, 2011
by John Winn
Staff Writer
Hennen's Observer
Known as michaelmiller.ic to contributors and visitors to the website hennensobserver.com, Michael Miller Jr. is as mysterious as the allegories he employs. With little more to go on that an arm tattoo…
An interview with H.E. Mantel, winner of the Open Community Poetry Contest (for the period October—December, 2010) conducted February 28, 2011.
by John Winn
Staff Writer
Hennen's Observer
Harold E. Mantel has been a mainstay in the literary community ever since he burst on the scene almost a decade ago. Since then many of his poems and prose,…
by John Winn
Staff Writer
Hennen's Observer
Corruption. Crime. Office politics. Christina Hazelwood has seen it all. The freelance journalist, entrepreneur, and indie filmmaker has had a front row seat watching some of the grittiest and dirtiest moments in our nation's history.
Again the dusk has filled this town with fog a sight I've grown accustomed to; odd shapes and silhouettes become dancers and these cracked calloused streets have become their stage. As they dance a bullfrog belches in the background a light wind rustles…