Like the shoes,

soles rubbed raw--

I saw him.

Wrinkled leather and

lanky laces.

Comforting embrace,

guiding my soul.

So you're a Republican. Or a Democrat? Or a Blood or Crip? No, wait, you're a 33rd degree Mason? That had better to be on your resume.

So you're a jock, right? Not a nerd or prep or freak, to be exact? If not then what the fuck are you. Emphasis on the period in place of question mark.

Enough subtle sarcasm.

If you feel the need to identify with a political party instead of simply explaining your beliefs, principles, and reasoning plainly, then you're a slave to the modern political game.

And the only way to win it is to break its rules.

...break them for good...

Though we've not seen or heard much from her in recent past, her presence is ever here. She is a self-proclaimed 'weirdo' who is always on the move. She writes with conviction and emotion, as evidenced in the following excerpt of her poem entitled "Ink."

I write to find, to know; to

obtain answers to a question I have

yet to articulate

but I know they’re there;

dwelling inside me

like a sulking child.

I feed her with ink...

I starve her too

when my mind’s dried up;

an old woman’s womb...

Who is she? Her name is Anmarie Soucie. Born in Lincoln, Nebraska, she soon moved to Phoenix, Arizona, and has lived in the northeast region of the United States for several years. For this reason, she says that she represents an equal-parts mix of the "American Trio."

Until recently, she worked as a bartender. This year she graduated from NYU with a Bachelor of Arts in creative writing and literature. Now she's "in full pursuit of a job in the literary world, or at least something that slightly resembles it," she says. She has some paid acting work under her belt as well, "though it's been rather sporadic..."

P: What is your relationship with writing and how has it evolved?

AS: I've had a few things published, and a LOAD of things rejected. I've learned to be open and receptive to writing advice but also flexible and persistent when it comes to the business side of things (you find the same mentality works in acting, or any creative endeavor); it's definitely not something that you pour yourself fully into if you're looking to benefit financially.

That said, I was drawn to the artistic side at a young age, and started writing when I was in first grade; I still have a story I wrote from that time – fleshed out with illustrated chapters and everything. It's pretty embarrassing, actually. It's called: "Vanessa Gets Kidnapped" and in my lame, underdeveloped mind, I'm sure I spent more time listing the things Vanessa wore and ate more than anything else. I continued to write stories and keep journals, and then later, poetry began to emerge. Now that I'm older – I can see just how much it's been a part of my life.

P: Briefly discuss the value that reading adds to both your personal and professional life.

AS: Reading is right up there for me with writing. Again, it's something that I started really young and engaged with pretty strongly. By that I mean that my mom used to always put books in front of my face because they were an easy way to keep me quiet and occupied.

I think that a kid's single digit years are crucial as they're constantly observing and absorbing. I correlate strong values with both reading and writing in my personal life and, as a writer, in my professional life.

P: How would you describe your current literary ventures and what can we look forward to in future posts?

AS: I'm all over the place.

I'm doing something which I don't typically do, something that I used to make fun of my ex for: I'm reading four books at once. I know, it sounds either pretentious or ridiculous, perhaps both, but I'll briefly explain: I was finishing a Dickens novel for a British Literature course (Great Expectations) and wanted to read something non-fiction along with it intermittently, so I chose a book that looked interesting about the influence of Aesop's fables on more contemporary writers and then of flash fiction in today's world. About halfway through, I found two more books (for $1 apiece) that I just couldn't wait to read: a Jungian psychology book on the metamorphosis of the feminine soul and a poetry book entitled "Cornhuskers" by Carl Sandberg. These books alone (which are now finished, complete with tons of annotation) have certainly impacted me and forced me to look at my current circumstances – along with all of the out-of-my-control, intensely rapid life changes – through a bit clearer lens.

I hope that they've impacted my writing, too. It's an interesting way of looking back on your life – all it's emotional swerves and swivels – simply by looking at or charting the writing you've done.

P: What does Prose. mean to you?

AS: Prose, to me, is for the writer in each of us . No matter where you are or what you need to talk about, I think Prose provides a vehicle for something that is important for every human being – communication. I very much agree with George Orwell's protagonist in 1984, who says (paraphrased): "more than to be loved, do we need to feel heard."

The overall simplicity of the app really provokes engagement. I think of that every time I go to post something, of how simple, accessible, and efficient it is, and I feel that perhaps if it were not that way, some people may not feel as inclined to invest their time contributing... Those involved in the literary world will also find it an intriguing and engaging way of putting their work out there.

P: Where else can we find you and your writing?

AS: You can visit my website at www.anmariesoucie.strikingly.com and follow me on Twitter @AnmarieSoucie.

Douglas Adams introduced the magical concept of a ‘Babel fish’ in his legendary novel ‘The Hitch Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy’ (1979).

The following paragraph, for those of you not in the know, is an explanation of what a Babel fish is, taken directly from his wonderful book:

“The Babel fish,” said The Hitch Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy quietly, “is small, yellow, leech-like, and probably the oddest thing in the Universe. It feeds on brainwave energy received not from its own carrier, but from those around it. It absorbs all unconscious mental frequencies from this brainwave energy to nourish itself with. It then excretes into the mind of its carrier a telepathic mix formed by combining the unconscious thought frequencies with nerve signals picked up from the speech centres of the brain which has supplied them. The practical upshot of this is that if you stick a Babel fish in your ear, you can instantly understand anything said to you in any form of language. The speech patterns you actually hear decode the brainwave matrix which has been fed into your mind by your Babel fish.”

The Babel fish, therefore. allowed Arthur Dent (the main character) to understand the language of alien life forms he encountered on his travels around the Universe.

Today, as I sat in my garden, enjoying the rare rays of hot English sunshine, drinking an ice cold beer and relaxing to the sound of our neighbours battling out heated screaming matches with their children, I realised that even humans, talking to other humans, living on the same part of the planet, speaking the same national language, even being part of the same family, could really make use of a Babel fish.

How is it that communicating with people we know can at times seem like we’re speaking completely different languages?

Why is it that some people can feel like their own siblings really are from another planet?

What happens when you think you’ve explained something perfectly well to your friend/colleague/parent/child or partner, and then they look at you perplexed, as though you’ve just grown two heads?

...

Find out the answers to these curious questions and more in a guest post by Anna Boswell (@aboswell, formerly @bozatron) later today on The Official Prose. Blog at: blog.theprose.com/blog.

we,

the poets.

the novelists.

the unemployed.

the unnoticed.

all of us writers

telling a story

with consonants and vowels

with rhymes, reason, and rebellion

at times philosophers with no equals

at time salsa-dancing with ourselves

on the fringes of sanity.

why you ask

did we choose this?

why starve, why fight,

why struggle, why write?

...

View this poem by Joey Pabalinas (@alyptik) in its entirety today on The Official Prose. Blog: blog.theprose.com/blog.

Where once a strong youth walked now shuffles an ageing man. The cuts and bruises of life have bowed his stance, and his fumbling step is now carefully tread.

The mind is slightly less sharp and his reactions are haphazard and faltering, but he goes on his way with fallheartbeat and shuffling step. So have the years played their cruel jest and furrowed his brow.

Only now can he see the paths that lead to nowhere but cannot tread much further upon his own. See his trembling hand as he raises his cup to drink, and wipe his lips for he is not aware, though not for caring.

Will you sit for his company but for a moment and share perhaps a good days tale? Ah but well he knows the haste of others business and the pressing moments of time.

He gazes out through dimmed eyes that have seen decades pass, shed a tear for his isolation for you too will share it soon. Too soon. Worry not for his future as he has lived it, worry instead for your own years to come and set your stitches close knit. The cold wind finds a way through old clothes, as he would tell you if you asked.

Question him why he sits in the same seat each day and he will only smile perhaps.

He knows not the hour nor even the day, and does it really matter?

Take a moment to watch as he feeds the birds. Will they too not flock about you should you follow suit? What better company could there be that question not motive nor intent, but to share a sandwich given so willingly. What thanks are needed when none are sought?

Look to see he is there when next you pass by for one day he will be elsewhere, who knows? Would you then take his seat and share a crumb?

Go then, with your errands and your endless lists of needs, but take care as you go, you need but miss a detail or loose your footing and you'll be gone forever.

**Miss a detail or loose your footing and you'll be gone forever.

From The Elder Scrolls, Oblivion.

with love.