For Random Learning Comes: Essays Fiction and Poetry by Andrea LeDew
For Random Learning Comes
For Random Learning Comes: Essays Fiction and Poetry by Andrea LeDew
{This is a prompt from What Pegman Saw, a weekly challenge to write 150 words, based on a location selected for the week, from Google Maps Street View. This week we are in Tiya, Ethiopia. The poem that follows is based on some cursory research I did, regarding the megaliths, and the history of this …
This flash fiction describes some of the sacrifices people made to obtain freedom during the Cold War. By Andrea LeDew written for What Pegman Saw.
{This is in response to the Friday Fictioneers weekly challenge, run by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. The picture above is impressive in its architecture, particularly its dome. The glass portion looks like an eye, and I went on a Google quest, ending up at the Fly’s Eye Dome by Buckminster Fuller. I watched a You Tube …
(Revised slightly July 1, 2021) This is a response to What Pegman Saw, which requires us to write 150 words, inspired by the Google Maps area selected. I went a little over the word count, sorry (169). I spent quite some time scouring Wikipedia for historical material. All errors are my own. But some …
{This is in response to a photo prompt from Friday Fictioneers, run by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. I went a bit over: 17 words over, to be precise. The rhyme scheme made it difficult to cut much, without losing something crucial, Hope you will forgive me this once. 🙂 A few words may need explaining: Fraktur …
{This is in response to a prompt from What Pegman Saw, for a 150-word piece, inspired by this section of Google Maps Street view. The street, buzzing with mopeds and scooters, is a flurry of activity. The picture reminds me of the many refugees, who came to the US from Vietnam in the 1970’s, during …
{This is in response to Michael Jackson’s Tuesday Scribes prompt. The challenge is to “write a piece of internal monologue.” Since I didn’t know exactly what this meant, I’ll assume some of you don’t either. Luckily, Michael Jackson has kindly dug up a definition, which I hope I have adhered to, with this little poem: …
{This is in response to a prompt from What Pegman Saw, which takes us, this week, to Mackinac Island , on the Upper Peninsula of Michigan, USA. The shot, I just liked. It has very little to do with the poem. I never lived on Mackinac, but I did live on the Upper Peninsula, early …
Two storms developed by late June; July and August? Not a peep. I’m praying, as I go to sleep, Protect us, as I know one’s coming soon. In middle August, wind and rain Expelled us, from our Southern keep. The cat and babe watched Andrew creep And scour the land, and scatter pain. …
{This is in response to a prompt from What Pegman Saw. This week, the challenge takes us to Pripyat, Ukraine, a small town near the border with Russia, not far from Chernobyl. Thanks for the prompt and thanks for reading!} The Azure Swimming Pool, The Pripyat Ferris Wheel: A jewel in 1970, A shell in …
The racing clouds look still to me, The raging waters, calm; I’m far away, alone, detached; I judge not, fear not, as I watch: A lighthouse in the storm. The traffic seems to crawl, to me; No crashes on the map; I’m way up high, I can’t detect The scurries of such small insects, …
When you eat a Muscadine, Beware the tiny seeds. Take it in your teeth, and roll it With your tongue, and peel the skin: It’s tasty. Tartly soft, and chewy. Inside, it’s a different story. Sugar-sweet, but deep within Lie three small, bitter, rock-hard bombshells, Glad, to crack a codger’s tooth. Much like …
This poem was written in July 2018 in response to a prompt from What Pegman Saw. a writing challenge based on different locations in the world each week. This poem is set in Kinshasa, which was once part of the Belgian Congo, Africa. It talks generally about statues portraying King Leopold of Belgium. You can …
{This poem was written as Hurricane Beryl had just attained Category 1 status. I am indebted to a YouTube video by Steve Moriarty at MoreGems.com which explained various properties of beryls. All errors are my own.} They say that you are not a threat. They say that you are small. It’s true, you’re not …
The regent, with his entourage, Speaks for the boy, a king just weaned. They name the city New Orleans. A writer, writing without courage, Is powerless. He has no prince To siphon from and to convince. Just average, he flounders, drowns. But then, he cannot help but fail To escape the doldrums, without …
I hate to have to choose, and yet, I have to make a choice. I think of what I’ll lose Amidst the clutter and the noise. I fear I’m passing up my fate, My fortune now seems lost. I fear I’m veering from the straight, At what horrific cost? My mind seems poised …
I still have much to teach you. You still have much to learn. And so, I cannot understand The way you squirm, and spurn My innocent advances, My gifts to guide you through. You act as if you need them not, As if they burden you. So, how am I to take this? …
This is in response to a challenge of one of my favorite bloggers, Calm Grove. It voices an opinion often thought, but not as often said out loud,by people who don’t particularly like poetry, or take the time to understand or enjoy it. Pictured above is a pink multi-petaled rose and bud covered with rain …
Never again to hear your voice, Never again to scan Your mind again, Your kindness, and Your quest for foreign lands. Never again to see your smile, Never again appeal For hugs again, For time to spend. Never again to feel. Never again to hold your hand, Never again to be As whole …
No longer young, no longer small, Eighteen-year-olds can do it all! Can fight in wars, can sneak a drink, Can tell us how and why they think, Can date online, can post a rant: They can! Except for when they can’t. No longer bound by dull commands, They sail to fight in foreign lands, …
While the flautest flaunts his fluting, The Elitist flouts all fleeting Equal treatment, equal eating, Equal talking, equal muting; And he flaunts his wares and wherefores, Climbing stairs and social ladders, Putting airs on, trying to flatter, And forgets what he is there for; While he’s spurning brave ambition, While he’s turning all …
I first posted this poem in 2018, after watching a dramatic series about real bacteriologists in Germany, who fought to vanquish cholera through the scientific method, in 1888, and won the Nobel prize for it. There are many parallels to today’s situation and the race to find a vaccine for coronavirus, from the fierceness …
Heavenly residents, Beings of light, Poised in the air, Ethereal, Gazing down At our oozing flesh, Feeling naught But pity. Copyright 2018 Andrea LeDew
I wrote this poem a few years ago when my son with autism was attending art therapy classes at a place called Indigo Art Therapy. The Indigo was taken from the concept of Indigo children, who were a class of children who didn’t necessarily do that well in school but were brilliant and creative …
