Articles written by Debbie Kerr

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Creative Writing > Short Stories Short stories: For children: 8 of 201

Esmeralda and her hair When Esmeralda was two, her mother cut her hair. She stared into the mirror and did not recognize herself. It was so short her ears froze when she went outside. It was so short it stuck straight up on her head. It was so short people sometimes thought she was a boy. Her mother tried to stick bows in he...
Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: Life's paths: 16 of 267

Splinters All that is left are splinters, feathering away in the mist, scattered into litter, debris kicked about on hard packed soil. I knew the gift was breaking, damaged beyond repair, but denied the infrastructure had collapsed hnd nothing was salvageable. We became so attached, irrationally perhaps, but held on for dear...
Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: Divorce: 7 of 106

Shards We were a family once of a common voice, singing in strains of harmony of the dreams we shared, looking in the mirror as one, a unit, a single entity . . . but as in Babylon of old the mirror cracked into a multitude of shards, a prism of reflections, each with its own viewpoint, an eschewing of the old form into dive...
Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: Relationships: 29 of 416

Homecoming Clock chimes the hour, all is still, holding its breath for the coming of dawn. So still, soothing, peaceful, belying all the years of anger spewing down hallways, reverberating off walls, as I cowered in corners praying for soft stillness instead of the raging silence which so often came in storm's wake. The peop...
Creative Writing > Memoirs Memoirs: Family conflict: 1 of 13

"Look! Isn't that cute!" my sister cried as she looked out the sun porch windows. The four of us, my mother, aunt, sister, and I herded to the sliding door to watch as a tiny field mouse hopped its way across my mother's yard. It was mid-April, the ground just beginning to thaw, the earth coming alive. Geese were returning, ...
Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: The seasons of our lives: 4 of 51

prettily papered walls nooks and crannies line the hall lawn lights standing silent sentry benches sitting on cement demarcations - the rules of engagement at Assisted Living are at once sedate and soothing while ramrod expectations of behavior and the cloyingly persuasive knowledge one is definitely buying her fair measure ...
Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: Losing yourself: 2 of 24

Deep down, beneath years of dress-up clothes and masks applied with careful precision - a little girl hides, cowering from fears she avoids at all costs - molten tears running like the River Styx on a journey from nowhere to no place, an ever flowing stream flooding the unconscious steadily filling a reservoir long dormant -...
Politics, News & Issues > Politics, News & Issues (Other) A change is needed to represent the masses: 2 of 21

Our arrogance is clearly destroying all we held dear. Our economy is in shambles and only getting worse. We gave people, equipment and dollars to other countries in the name of diplomacy. Meanwhile the homeless, un and under employed, poor, disabled, and, ironically, our vets, get short shift. One of ...
Creative Writing > Memoirs Memoirs: Why I write: 26 of 244

Why do I write? What makes me reach for the right word or phrase or moment? The very same reasons that cause me not to write. . . the angst and drama of every day living, the thoughts and obsessions I can't outgrow, that which I pray about, my stomach clenched with knots, my chest aching with sorrow, even, sometimes, what fi...
Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: Sex appeal: 6 of 54

The Masseuse A friend once said, He is a creature of raw abandon, Exuding sexual pheromones Like an animal marking his territory, Making me want to grab him by the hair Pull him into an alley And do it to him, raw, and hard. I laughed, but lacked understanding, Refined tastes had I, No primitive animal Was going to pound his...