
Glass canopy – I think it needs a wash
http://jennifernicholewells.com/2014/07/22/one-word-photo-challenge-aqua/

Glass canopy – I think it needs a wash
http://jennifernicholewells.com/2014/07/22/one-word-photo-challenge-aqua/
We want Peace!
Dove asked Owen if he would agree to be part of her act this weekend for the big Peace In. The sweet bird agreed immediately. Dove made a tiny Peace banner for him to hold. He was very pleased to be part of her act. They have worked together before and are good friends. They often play in the field together and watch the Rubber Ducks by the pond. It’s not much of an act, to be honest. It’s more of a visual representation of a chicklet and a parakeet who want Peace to be a reality. Still, a bit of practice is good for the soul.

Painted vase between teapots on my kitchen windowsill
Anyone for a cuppa?
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Copyright 2014 Irina Dimitric
http://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_photo_challenge/containers/
This tragedy hit me really hard. I had to stop watching the news.
The terrorist attack on the Twin Towers in 2001 threw me into deep depression. My GP recommended then I stay away from TV news at times like this. So I’m being careful this time. But I can’t help feeling down, so many innocent lives lost. Such carnage! We are so powerless over Fate and Death.
WHIZ! BANG!
BANG! POW!
In the sky
Debris falling down
In all directions
Airplane parts
And body parts
Human bodies
Old and young
Falling down
Lives brutally
Cut short!
Death’s scythe
Was most efficient
Job well done
In an instant
Death’s orgy
On the ground
Smoking wreckage
Death’s stench
In the fields
Death’s mocking
Laughter
Killing twice:
“I am the Master
Forever in your mind
You are my slaves
Forever to me bound.”
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May they soon rest in peace!
At this moment (22 July 2014) the bodies of victims
are in refrigerated train carriages.
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May the world build peace!
© 2014 Irina Dimitric
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http://dougwestberg.wordpress.com/2014/07/19/sunwinks-where-is-thy-sting/
This is the poem
of the soul
Naked to sun
and rain
Like the white soul
of the saint
These are the hands
that believe
and build
Twenty-four words from Henry Wadsworth Longfellow; I inserted “soul” in the second line and “These are” in the third line from the bottom.
© 2014 Irina Dimitric
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http://dougwestberg.wordpress.com/2014/07/16/twenty-two-words-from-eliot/
I took these photos with my smart phone HTC Desire yesterday.

Enjoying a delicious lunch with my husband at Mosman Café, Sydney, Australia, I took this photo from inside through the window.

On the way out I couldn’t resist taking a photo of this gorgeous furniture shop.

I just love the colour of the armchair and the beautiful display. You can see my reflection on the right of the chair.
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Copyright 2014 Irina Dimitric
Today is 13 July. On this day 69 years ago, my dear father came home from a POW camp in Germany. I’m not superstitious in general, but that day was Friday 13 and I’ve considered it my lucky day ever since.

Here he is (seated in the first row in the middle) with his mates, all of them doctors, from Great Britain, Australia and New Zealand. He was wearing a British uniform and that complicated matters for him on his return to Zagreb: he was imprisoned, suspected of being a British spy. That episode deserves a story to be written, of course.

Here he is in the first row flanked by Dr Norman Rose from Australia and Dr Webster from Great Britain. Next to Dr Webster is Padre, but I don’t know his name. In the back row the first on the left is Dr Smith, next to him a Frenchman and a Russian, Dr Makarov, the first on the right. The tallest in the last row is Dr Atkins from Cowra, NSW, Australia. – Stalag 344, Cosel, 5 June 1944.

Back of the photo above, a postcard he sent me a year before the end of war. His POW number was 19522.
After the war, Dr Norman Rose became superintendent of Sydney Hospital; Dr Webster migrated to Australia and Dr Rose helped him to become superintendent of Prince of Wales Hospital in Sydney; and my father migrated to Australia in 1968 to join me and my family. Already in 1965, when my parents came only for a visit, Dr Rose helped my father to get his medical registration in New South Wales. They were very good friends having spent the last two years of war working together, young Dr Rose being assistant to my father who was the chief surgeon of the POW hospital.
Yes, that’s my next project, to record a piece of history through my father’s experiences. But first I must finish his WWI story.
Wish me luck!
© 2014 Irina Dimitric
Poets, here’s a great challenge!
We’ve been talking about metaphor in our language (that’s how it’s built) and our poetry (it wouldn’t be very poetic without it). Metaphors—and successful poetry—make us look at things in new ways by making fresh connections among diverse ideas.
An extended metaphoris a comparison that is carried out through an extended part or the entire length of a work. Some writers say it is synonymous with allegory. I think they are two different things, but I don’t have the energy to belabor the point here.
Here is a tiny sample of poems which use extended metaphors. Browse your favorite anthology to find many more. They shouldn’t be too hard to pick out. In fact, it occurs to me this would be a fabulous exercise!
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Great writing challenge for fiction writers!