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Showing posts from 2016

October Open Mic!

Words on the Verge Presents

Open Mic Night
October 29, 2016
5pm-7pmAll events are from 5-7pm at A Different Path Gallery, 27 Market St., Brockport, NY 14420.
Light refreshments served.

All donations collected at the October 29th event will benefit the Brockport High School Chorus Council.
Writers are asked to come prepared to read short pieces of fiction, poetry, or creative non-fiction.  Attendees will be asked to sign up for a time-slot when they arrive.  This event is open to all ages, and young writers are encouraged to attend.  Non-writers are encouraged to come to the event to support the readers and enjoy the gallery. Halloween-themed stories are especially welcome (though not required) and costumes encouraged.

September 2016 Newsletter

We hope you enjoy the Words on the Verge September Newsletter!View this email in your browserSeptember 2016 NewsletterThis is our first event of the 2016-2017. We do hope you can join us on September 24th at 5pm.Words on the Verge presents 
Banke Awopetu-McCulloughThe Words on the Verge 2016-2017 season kicks off September 24th with Banke Awopetu-McCullough.

Awopetu-McCullough is a professor, playwright, and blogger who grew up in Rochester where she attended John Marshall High School. She later earned a Bachelors of Arts in Drama and African and African-American Studies from the University of Virginia and a Masters in Adolescent Education from Roberts Wesleyan.

Her first book,

Spotlight on a Literary Citizen: A Chat with Bill Berry, Jr.

Literary Citizen, William E. Berry, Jr., is the CEO and publisher at aaduna, inc. a literary journal that showcases poetry, fiction, non-fiction, and visual media from writers and artists worldwide. 
Grab a cup of coffee or tea and sit with us as we chat with Bill....

Words on the Verge: You have put your heart and soul into aaduna.  Tell uswhy you founded the journal and about the goal/vision of aaduna.
Bill: My foray into online publishing was with a journal that initially was to be the online component of a printed journal.  As things often happen with divergent viewpoints, the printed journal eventually decided to forgo an online version.  With my encouragement and backing, the lead on the online initiative decided to continue with the venture.  I then structured, organized and established the corporate platform for the journal; identified the journal’s name; developed the mission statement, submission protocols, and served as a founding co-editor.  As this racially specific entity …

May 2016 Newsletter

Click HERE to read creative writing from Craig Raleigh.

May 2016 NewsletterThis is our last event before the summer hiatus!  Join us for a spring celebration of community and the literary arts!We had a wonderful time at our Spring Open Mic!  Thanks to everyone who joined Words on the Verge on Saturday.

I Know You

I Know You by 
Craig Raleigh
When I stopped by for a visit, you were still there; living in that house in the woods where you’ve always been. I didn’t have to knock; I didn’t have to ring the bell. I just used my eyes to look into your windows. I can see the white specks of soft oxygen floating on your ever so slightly-stained back; the sun reflecting off the moving ripples of liquid karma. The twist of your spine drifts through the broken forest with an abject disregard. There is no beginning and no end; only the rigor of ebb and flow. I have questions that only you can answer; unanswered questions from my childhood. They rage in my heart and can no longer be ignored. I have no choice but to see you up close now, old friend. My feet are burning to ramble; my eyes itching with desire. Your banks are stripped bare by the frozen storms; pounded flat by the weight of winter.
You have an openness now like at no other time of the year. I crave to discover your secrets; I require an audi…

The Day My Father Died

The Day My Father Died David B. Seaburn
            November 11, 1998 dawned grey and cold. I had been staying with my brother and mother in Ellwood City, Pa. off and on for six weeks after my father had been diagnosed with acute leukemia. The doctor had given him no more than two months to live. It had been a long twenty-two years since my father had had his heart attack, years littered with mounting health problems and surgeries, years of caregiving by my mother. My father was eighty years old now and proud of it. His brothers had all died before him, mostly of heart disease, one at the age of thirty-six. The day before he died was my parents’ fifty-sixth wedding anniversary, something that he was unaware of. We crossed our fingers that day, hoping he would live through it.             A few days before his death, my mother and I received a call in the middle of the night from my father’s nurse. She said he was restless and afraid and that we should come to the hospital. When we arrive…