Just a few shots I took while walking the beach at Dash Point. As it got darker, the view was just whoa.
Venice Hughes
All posts tagged Venice Hughes
How must one ask when the questions unclear?
Every syllable a realization of what we feared.
Lost only to the pride that make our beds.
Pretending the needs only in our heads.
How must one give when they’ve yet to receive?
Engulfed in a constant state of need.
Longing for even an ounce of change.
Praying for miracles no longer seems so strange.
How must one know when an answers been given?
Especially when the questions been hidden.
Looking closer one may disagree.
Perhaps they’re there, we just cannot see.
Venice Hughes
So, I am pretty much afraid of birds now but wanted to try and get a pic of some Seagulls by the pier. Right as i was taking a pic, one flew at me and kind of messed up my shot; so I thought. I think it actually came out pretty cool, so I wanted to share. I must give thanks to the bird who flipped out on me for this shot haha.
I am beyond pleased to have had the opportunity to be published along some some of the most talented writers I know in OUR NEW BOOK simply titled Poetstuffers: An Anthology. We have put together a collection of some of our best work to date. A wide range of topics, issues, and events are explored by each individual, and even expose some of the deepest parts of ourselves through each piece presented. Right now we just have it available as a hard copy, but will soon have it ready for e-book distribution as soon as we can. I can’t begin to tell you how proud I am of this accomplishment and to be able to share it with all of you. I will leave a link to the book if you are interested here, as well as create a page with any of my published work so it can be easily found in the future. I am also working on a little something something of my own as well. More detail on that later though. For now, I just want to enjoy this milestone 🙂
He lays his head upon the pavement,
For the first time in his life.
Just off the highway exit
On the corner of 8th and Sunrise.
Mr. Bright Eyes, they called him.
So young and alive,
With a diploma and a dream
To better himself inside.
He had everything he needed
And goals to succeed someday.
He stepped onto the campus.
And was well on his way.
But now he lies here, cold.
Alone.
And with nothing.
He lost it all in an instant
And society watched him in awe.
Tuition’s too high.
And The Government cut his funding.
Couldn’t find a decent job
And As citizens we did nothing.
Except place our faith in the system
To sort him out on its own.
After all, it’s what we paid for,
The shelters, the loans.
The food donated to the helpless
Who lost their place to go.
I saw him one time
Driving down I-5 ,
Shivering in the rain
Dutifully holding a sign.
Praying for miracle
As cars pass him by.
I brought him some coffee
And an umbrella today.
Hoping for a smile
To cross his aging face.
And it did, for an instant.
As tears filled his eyes.
And he told the story
Of Mr. Sunrise
Venice Renee-Lynn Hughes