TWIST OF FATE

Twist of Fate book is now available for Nook and Kindle! 60 + authors contributing their work for a great cause!!! Spread the word! :)

CLICK HERE:

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/326132?ref=STEPHENLWILSON

http://indiesinaction.blogspot.com/2013/07/twist-of-fate-soft-launch.html

Rogue Incandescent Moon

When ashen shades swallow the sky

Dismal hues tantalize my eyes

My pupils adjust like a wolf

Senses cautious I stand aloof

I spot a glimmering marble

It gleams like one in a fable

It ignites the dismal heavens

With a trickle of redemption

I reach it with all of my might

Like the rusty tree in my sight

It appears so far out of reach

My soul it does ever beseech

This Phoebus fire I will touch

When my ill fate decides as such

Until then my sore heart will swoon

At the rogue incandescent moon

© 2011 Donna J. Sanders

Buffalo Shrimp

Ingredients:

1lb large shrimp, peeled and deveined
2 tbs olive oil
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 lemon, juiced
1 tsp smoked paprika
1 tbs worcesteshire sauce
1 tbs hot sauce (I used Crystal Hot Sauce)
Dash of black pepper

Combine ingredients, whisk to blend and toss with shrimp. Marinade for about 20-30 mins in refrigerator. Grill or saute until shrimp are cooked. 

Pimento Cheese Dip

Looking for a quick appetizer idea? Try this tasty and unique pimento cheese dip. Pair with an assortment of crackers or vegetables for a superbowl party or a simple afternoon get together. 

Ingredients:

1 (3-ounce) package cream cheese, room temperature

1 cup grated sharp cheddar

1 cup grated Monterey Jack

1/2 cup mayonnaise

2 to 3 tablespoons pimentos, smashed

1 teaspoon grated onion

Dash of pepper, paprika & garlic powder

Chives (chopped)

Directions:

Using an electric mixer, beat cream cheese until smooth and fluffy. Add all of the remaining 

ingredients (except chives) and beat until well blended. Pour into bowl and top with chopped 

chives.

Can be used as a dip for crudite or as a sandwich filling.

I served with crackers, triscuits, celery and endives or you could use any assortment of veggies or crackers desired. 

This recipe is a modification of Paula Deen's Pimento Cheese  Dip:
http://www.foodnetwork.com/recipes/paula-deen/bobbys-pimento-cheese-recipe/index.html

My Testimony

Sometimes I feel as though I’m sliding off

a deflated world, where skeletal vines suspend

me, the abyss beneath, a wormhole to the Devil’s lair.

As misfortunes grow, leaving me hollow,

exhausted, destitute as a third world country, my

feet exposed to jagged dirt depleting the sanguine fluid

that nourishes, barbed wire tightens its grip

with vengeance. I sob rivers of albumen when

rigid skin harvested over years of excessive cultivation

crack like egg-shells, but only small enough

to contain my yolk. Even though my internal fluids

ferment, this core refuses to be petrified, not even Pompeii’s

fury can coat me with sediment to obstruct

time, partially exposed to treasures out of reach.

Eyes ascend, knees dismounted, and hands unburdened

to catch omnipotent benevolence, I see the

fluorescent journeys, chateaus where transparent

spirits reign, on this battleship of immense infatuation.

© 2013 Donna J. Sanders

ROBOTS

To be made of cold steel

Warm wires that flow in braids

Engulfed in artificial texture

Is a future foreseen

To touch fire without fear

To dive deep without air

To think analytically

And live the extreme

In this form

I need no sustenance

No need to slumber

I follow my purpose

Without agony or pain

In this shell

No tears flow

No laughter echoes

I know no revenge

Therefore no challenge to gain

In this state

Procreation is nil

No complicated endeavor

I can be cloned

No adolescent to train

A life drama free

If robots we could be

© 2011 Donna J. Sanders

Photo credit: 

1. http://www.thezooom.com/2012/12/8957/

2. Lee Davies - http://cliff-07.xanga.com/photos/87901263123251/

The Apple

 THE                                     E

                                            L

                                          P

                                        P

                                      A

                      Open                 your

              mouth to me, undraped woman

        Your heart desires a freedom unwelcome

      in this utopian garden. Lift your hand to me

    and caress your concealed desires. I promise

  you ecstasy. I promise you bliss. I promise you

liberty with the taste of your temptress kiss. Savor

 the sweetness in your burdened soul and bring the

    one you love to divide the pleasure. Convince

     him to bask in your new found gratuity. Prove

       his passion to live in haste. The only price

                   to pay                   is shame.

© 2011 Donna J. Sanders

The Preacher

Sacramental blood denies your veins

Yet sermons spew from a tongue on fire

Another Sunday where blasphemy reigns

A child out of wedlock, a wife to gain

Fulfilling schemes of a tyrant’s desire

Sacramental blood denies your veins

Misleading your flock with heavy disdain

No robe, but a wolf in sheep’s attire

Another Sunday where blasphemy reigns

Splinters of skin blemish her face with pain

Raping the chance to make her a martyr

Sacramental blood denies your veins

Teeth sparkle white as deception refrains

Pharisaical lessons prolong to inspire

Another Sunday where blasphemy reigns

Heirs to your seed circumvent the insane

Your own true colors revealing the liar

Sacramental blood denies your veins

No further Sundays where blasphemy reigns

© 2011 Donna J. Sanders

The World Is My Muse

 The crimson sky rolls like a marble in the universe,

amidst the abysmal maelstrom of energy only a blind

man can see. The journey of my fiber optic veins fights

to clone me into doppelgangers but the asylum has a

tight grip on my sight. Barbed wire around my neck,

I strain to catch a breath of the ash that haunts faces

never seen. Cadavers of words lie in a shallow grave,

and they scream into the cockles of repression. Wisdom

is no longer innocent, it has become the bile a swallow

cannot regurgitate to its young. Instead, the sand buries

the slices of evolution that have separated like an iron

clasp. Procreation has become a hobby, not a necessity

and the concept is as useless as a carpenter with rubber

nails. From this ignorance life has been spread like moss

on a pier, where barnacles eat their young with carnivorous

fury. God is not a spirit in this place, but a scapegoat when

luck falters and cartilage is only exposed in times of

desperation. The sign of an apocalyptic presence is denied

by those who are colorless. The planet has begun to crumble

like the Berlin wall. As islands sink, mountains rise, and

even when the incapacitated generations vanish, nature

will contain their history in its roots. And so, I will watch

with sunken eyes and use my fingers to convey effervescent

thoughts as I make the world my muse!

© 2011 Donna J. Sanders

All I Want to Do is Dream

In silence my thoughts awake, jolted like

ingesting instant caffeine, running through the membranes

in my brain stimulating my optic nerves

so I can see, so I can think about the obstacles I

face, the tasks I rejected to do that day.

The electrodes get fired up to dance, to dangle

words through my nostrils, sentences clogging my throat,

it’s hard to breathe, hence no sleep until I pluck them

loose, sneeze them onto paper I must, then move them around like

a jigsaw puzzle fitting male to female, female to male.

Images come to life, metaphors frolic like a samba, my meter is free

to leap off the page, exposed are my emotions that swim

synchronized, consistent they are in keeping me from

the sleep I lack when all I want to do is dream

© 2013 Donna J. Sanders