Z is for, well, Z…#AtoZChallenge2019

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Z was the last of them.  The final bastion of the 26 generations of The Letterites of Wordzea, a world with dwindling resources.  Now is the dawning of a new cohort called The Hafazians.  Theirs is a language that could not be functionalized and understood by the Letterites. 

The final battle will be short-lived, as those who have strived for proper verbiage and grammatically correct dialogue will be far outnumbered by the abbreviated and misspelled denizens of this next generation.

Like his cousins before him, The Cursivietes, Z will be left to stand alone in the final days.  In the end… Z will reflect on Y.

The End

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X is for Xerographically…#AtoZChallenge2019


Definition of xerography. 1 : a process for copying graphic matter by the action of light on an electrically charged photoconductive insulating surface in which the latent image is developed with a resinous powder (such as toner)

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Do you ever feel like you’ve been xerographically copied and replaced?

Asking for a friend…

Thanks!

W IS FOR WIND…#AtoZChallenge2019

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We are like the wind

Sometimes gentle

Sometimes harsh

A lazy breeze

On a sunny day

Is when life feels most right

And yet, there is more to us

When trouble is around

Blowing hard

Against our foes

Tumbling feelings across the ground

Pushing our way

To find our path

And set our course again

Doing our best

To not become

A hurricane force wind

But we need solace in our hearts

As we pull back the reins

The wind may be invisible

And like us can hide the pain

V is for Valhalla…#AtoZChallenge2019

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Valhalla awaits the brave of heart

A sacrifice for more than he

Amour-cladding could not prevent

The piercing sword to eternity

Now his body lays upon the pyre

But his soul has long since gone

Into the promised Eden land

The warrior’s final home

R is for Reticulated…#AtoZChallenge2019

Stress, Man, Hand, Flame, Burn, Fire
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There is a new world I’ve awaken to

Translucent, transformed,

Reticulated and blue

What happened to me

Am I out of my head

Oh shoot, there’s the floor,

I just fell out of bed

Ah, now I remember

As my stomach turns over

Too many libations

For this old treasure trover

P is for Poetry

To Write, Machine, Desk, Flowers
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P is for Poetry

Written from the soul

So many styles

It never gets old

Some write of heartache

Depression and fear

Others write of loss

With the shedding of tears

And yet there are others

Who write of their joy

About little children

Receiving a toy

Perhaps you write fiction

An imagination that flies

Or maybe the lifeline

Of generations gone by

Whatever you write

Write with your heart

For the muse that’s within

Is dying to start