Kathy Boles-Turner

I Must Live With Patience And Hope In Us

The moon is full of wishes after all, we just don’t know how to unlock its magic. Humankind lost the codex somewhere between the ancient revelation of greed and the fear of death, so now we’re lost without the knowledge meant to pass down generation to generation. Even if it were here on display, accessible, […]

by Kathy Boles-Turner

Dearest dabblers, inventors of color and space between the lines, my fellow hopeless optimists: I’m afraid I don’t have the time to love you anymore.

I refrain from writing here because I can’t control the whine my words convey. The whine is a sound I cannot abide, yet it persists. Originating in I can’t I can’t I don’t have time, time, time. Though the sound carries on through days and seasons, it never settles into an unnoticeable drone somewhere in […]

by Kathy Boles-Turner

I Want Wishes On The Moon To Be A Thing

Notice how clouds cozy up to the moon, making it seem simultaneously romantic, eerily gorgeous, and yes, magical. It’s just a rock. Cold and pitted, and not very attractive at all, really. And we’re people who remain tethered to Earth whiling away our time, inclined to romanticize just about anything for no good reason. Or […]

by Kathy Boles-Turner

Hello Again My Fellow Speaking Spirits, My Dearest Partners In Crime And Redemption: Personal Update, Opinionated Tidbits & A Tall Glass Of Water In Bullet Points

It could all be a lot worse–history proves just how bad the future could be. History reaches far beyond the internet. Even Google will tell you that. I never knew the privilege of lockdown 2020. I won’t hold a grudge, promise. I don’t believe the virus is a conspiracy or a hoax. The moon landing, […]

by Kathy Boles-Turner

Dearest keen listeners, collectors of truth and emotion, rivulet by rivulet.

To you, the unforgotten, the forms and spirits, the mirror’s edge: hello again. Forty-three days ago I posted here about my struggle with POV for THE SECOND NOVEL. By the next evening I had a glimmer of a new idea. Within a week the glimmer was all thrum and heartbeat and bright lights. I wanted, […]

by Kathy Boles-Turner

For The Light Of A New Day, The Wisdom Waiting At The Edges

Dearest keen listeners, collectors of truth and emotion, rivulet by rivulet. You who wait for the light of a new day and recognize wisdom waiting at the edges of that light. Please don’t close your eyes. Not yet. Learning is my purpose. I can’t recall now just how long the thunderous epiphany thundered on the […]

by Kathy Boles-Turner

Rest & Rereading For The Tough Guys: A Call For Poetry Critique

Dearest ink well, deepest secret, dark & lush written word writing real life. Dearest dripping nib, bruised, buried heart, persistence epitomized. Lay down your pretty head and rest awhile. Everyone misses the writing community home of old. The new days, the newfound ways, the budding love & learning. But no one has the time for […]

by Kathy Boles-Turner

When Nothing Is Clear And Headaches Persist: Inside Out Beauty & Links

Dearest day laborers, night sweats, lucid dreamers, underpaid saviors. The early fading blooms of August flowers. I have no cure. I’m sorry. I am ashamed. I am feverish and tired and wearing a tread in borrowed optimism. I am reading. Wanting to read. Books won’t fit in my hands. Both eyes blur at the screen. […]

by Kathy Boles-Turner

For Daydreamers, Lollygaggers, The Procrastinators, Unbelievers, The True Believers

Dearest warm blankets, foggy windows, dewdrop morns spinning reality from the unreal. My fellow daydreamers, lollygaggers, the procrastinators, unbelievers. The true believers. We’re going to be okay. We’ll write down everything, one way or another. Make the villains faceless or tattoo them with our own pasts. We’ll make a secret grief palpable, let readers taste […]

by Kathy Boles-Turner

To You Who Sit In Darkness Knowing A Story Will Come, To You Who Sit Alone With The Page

Dearest last frontiers, imagination’s destination, you who sit in the darkness knowing a story will come, you who sit alone with the page. Inventors of heartbeat and poems drawn in the sand, thank you. I love you. I aspire. Strangers speak to me with strong voices out of nowhere, lend me their memories but never […]