“The Cardinal’s Call” by Raymond Roy #poetry

High atop budding maple

Sounds a call, of a natural staple

The shrill of the Cardinal announcing loud

Spring has arrived with rain and cloud

Puffed up proud, red crimson breast

Red-olive-colored females, so impressed.

Fluttering dives well orchestrated

Welcoming Spring so long awaited

Showing off

“Showing off”

Blackened face, burnt orange beak,

Seeds and insects are what you seek

And when the winter snow arrives,

God only knows how you survive

Through blizzard, wind, and freezing rain

To emerge once more, to welcome Spring again.


With the first week of Spring The northern Cardinals are like conductors and performers alike. I plant sunflowers for them and the finches in my garden or perhaps ” our garden”


The Obituary 

In the spirit of reaching those that have had good or bad experiences in Foster care, as well as to those considering being a Foster parent, a little kindness and understanding goes along way. Before discipline and punishment, please consider love and guidance. Many of these kids won’t trust you, or perhaps cant be trusted because that is what the world has taught them. Over 40 years later my healing from the one year with this harsh Foster parent continues. He is gone of this earth, this is part of his legacy. The first step in forgiveness is understanding, understanding to learning, learning to choices. My choice is to share and empower others. Peace.

goroyboy's Blog

I learned that you are dead.
Although words say you have passed, your cruel deeds committed by you to me as a child still lingered for decades.
You might have softened and treated your own children better than you treated your foster children.
I had a condition you judged as a plea for attention. Rather than love and understanding you provided physical and verbal abuse.
Perhaps you learned cruelty from those that mistreated you. I have pity for you or anyone in that circumstance if that was the case.
Perhaps you thought you taught discipline and tough love. You were mistaken.

I learned from you how it was to feel neglected and mistreated.
Because others that showed me what unconditional Love was, I was given the gift of learning that not all in the world were evil and cruel.

With this gift I have strived to the best of my…

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“This” is a masterful piece of work. A story, a poem within a story. “This” is an example of what I aspire to create someday.
Peace -Goroyboy


~Falling in love~

~ The nature is, me! ~

And this life has always been a mystery, to you, to me and to Kashiv. He doesn’t usually go out and when he does he spends the whole day in one place, staring at the sky, mountains and the forest.

He shares a kinship to everything around him flowers, light and pebbles. He likes being one with the nature and so strips himself and lies naked under the shade of the tall tree he does not know the name of.

In time his body will be covered with dirt, mud and dry leaves. He will be no different than a dead man, buried.

No one knows what goes inside that head of his, that is if he has one; and so no one can tell what he feels or understands or experiences when he does this little act of madness.


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“Spam” by Raymond Roy

Scrolling through my email..click down button and then look away. Why is it so hard to concentrate. My boss’s eyes burning on the back of my head. “Jacob”. he sidled to my left. “Oh, hey Boss,”I blurted out. He had a warm smile, “Just saying good morning”, “Ga-go-good morning Mr. Springer.”

What the hell is wrong with me? Micro-electric shocks shoot from the base of my cerebellum up to my cortex. Ringing in my ears.

Deep breaths..walking out the side entrance. The breeze felt good. I leaned my cheek against the cool ceramic tile.

Lighting a smoke, drawing so hard, a rogue tobacco shred sparked through the paper.

Back in the office .

“Bing bong” chimes the intercom.

“Time for meds gentlemen.””Please line up”.

In line.

Mr. Springer walking out, stopped to talk with Mark the security guard.

“How you doing Mark?”

“Pretty good Dr. Springer, You?”

“Not bad. “Would you keep an eye on Jacob? “He’s been sitting at a desk staring blankly at the wall, going on about Spam emails.”

“Sure Thing Doc!”

Word Count-175

I have heard the expression perhaps for songwriting, “you write what you know”. I feel this holds true in story writing, fiction or non-fiction. I cannot think of too many people, including myself, that haven’t been somehow touched by mental health issues. Perhaps not full blown paranoia but, stress, anxiety/panic attacks, With information overload, 24 hour feeds…..just as our bodies need a healthy diet, so do our minds. For me, an escape is writing which challenges me on “what I know” and “where I stand”, rather than switching to a zombie scrolling mode copying and pasting the opinions of others.

Be well my Friends


Written for Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers host by our gracious host, Priceless Joy thanks Joy.

Photo Credit to Enisa. Thank you!

The Long Path By Raymond Roy #poetry

The sign means STOP, to all refugees, it has been years since we have seen any trees.

Rifle and young child upon my shoulder, radiant heat off a Turkish boulder.

Granite boulder on our neighbors land, we seek escape, from a tyrants hand.

Unwelcomed people, we accept a fate, choosing to live, versus war and hate.

The air is thin, the sun warms our backs, free of smoke, and air attacks.

We are here, our will is strong no matter the path, how steep or how long.

I look upon my mothers face, we move forward at the elders pace.

Word Count-100

Written for Friday Fictoneers Hosted by our wonderful host Rochelle Wisoff. Thanks Rochelle!

Photo prompt Credit Bjorn Rudberg thanks Bjorn!

To read more stories based on this photo click here



Blueberry Hill By Raymond Roy #FffAW #humor

Wild blueberry season was in full bloom. Samantha and Sarah sat with their bucket on the hillside as they weren’t permitted to pass over the bridge to the fields.

Frustrated, “What the Heck? Who ever heard of toll bridge that only takes credit cards. ” Samantha grumbled.

“Look at all the heavy bushes on the other side”. Sarah sighed. “Hey here comes Mom to the rescue!”

Walking up to the bridge, their Mom looked puzzled. She looked to the girls.. “Mom it’s a custom card reader designed by the hipster artist that owns the fields. Here let me show you.” Samantha took her Moms card and slid it between the clothed” buttcheeks” of the card reader. A robotic message sounded, “Do you want a receipt?” “NO thank you!” Their mom replied.. “We will leave that for another day”…they all laughed .

Word Count-142

Written for Flash Fiction for aspiring writers. Thank you Priceless Joy for hosting. Thanks and Photo Credit to Yinlan Z for the photo prompt.

To read other prompt inspired stories click HERE



20$ on pump two (the vengeful soul patch) by Raymond Roy #Fffaw Flash fiction

Hypnotic embers, a lavanous symphony culminating with a gaseous crackling POP!

Tiny meteor, a glowing spark shoots toward my face, landing just under my lower lip. I snap out of my dream state. I think nothing of it.

Back home, yawning, Monday morning mirror, Oddly, a soul patch had grown in overnight where the ember had landed.

Late for work, stopping by the local gas station for a cup, I ran into former “friend” Mike, that I had just as soon avoid.

In front of me, I could see Mike’s smirking reflection in the mirror behind the register. Suddenly, the hairs of my soul patch, grew as if they were a web being cast by Spider-Man. The knarly hairs wrapped around Mike’s throat drawing me so close I could smell the rancid neck sweat trapped in the rolls on the back of his bulbous head.

Just as quickly as it began, the vengeful strands retracted.

Mike stunned, smirk-free.

“Just the coffee sir?”

“Yes, Oh, and 20$ on pump two please?

Word Count-171 words

Written for Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers. Thanks to our gracious host Priceless Joy for more information click here

Photo Credit: Enisa (thank you)

To read other stories based on this photo click here.


Friends With Benefits By Raymond Roy #FFfAW

Friends with Benefits by Raymond Roy

Flutter flutter flutter, the golden finch landed on my open palm. CRRack! Splitting open one of the many jet black sunflower seeds I held. “Finch”, “You are a truly handsome creature”.

“Thank you” Finch replied. And you are a gracious human being.

I so enjoyed our mornings together. “Finch, you’ve lost a feather.”

The tiny bright yellow plume had landed between two seeds almost like a quill in an old inkwell.

“That is no lost feather” Finch happily announced. “ it is a gift! A gift for your kindness”. Acrobatically Finch raised up his left leg. A paper scroll wrapped around it. “ Go ahead, take the scroll”. I listened to my golden friend.

Finch darted to my shoulder. “Take the feather from the seeds.”

The tip of the tiny quill was full with black ink.

“Finch? “

“Trust me” he said.

“Now my good hearted man, you have one wish. All you have to do is write it on the scroll, and it will come true”.

Taking the quill I began, I wish for..

Word Count- 175

Written for Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers hosted by Priceless Joy. Thank you Joy:)

To read additional stories based on the photo prompt prompt click here

Raven, Brother Raven by Raymond Roy. #Poetry #FlashFiction

Raven, Brother Raven…..

Raven, Brother Raven, Is there a message that you bring? Mysteriously different from other birds, who choose to chirp and sing.

Raven, Brother Raven,

Blue-steeled feathers, ebony-onyx colored eyes,

Curiosity and character,I’m bewildered at your size

Raven, Brother Raven,

Poe did quoeth you “Nevermore”with his somewhat twisted mind,

Natives legends infer, you created all mankind.

Raven, Brother Raven,

Your caw has my attention, omen of certain revolution, a cleansing kindred spirit,…leading to ascension.

Raven, Brother Raven,

Heed your sacred clan,

Put aside your trickster ways, for the benefit of man.

Raven, Brother Raven…

Word Count-99

Written for Carrot Ranch Flash Fiction Challenge. Based on the photo prompt write a fictional post of 99 words(no more no less).

Thanks to our gracious host Charli.



Image Credit: Dion Kaszas

In remembrance of a good man

I am standing still in a bit of shock, others walk toward a ticking clock.

A legacy begins, life story complete, knowing God, has prepared a seat,

Crooked smile, slicked back hair, to us “Uncle Larry”, to Aunty Mackie, simply,” Lair”.

Cigarette hanging, and happy eyes, late night arrivals, were never a surprise.

Alligator dancing out on the floor, had a few too many but the crowd wanted more!

Quiet man, you let your actions show, seek not gold, but love to sow.

Larry Paul Kaszas may your light shine on, through your legacy of love, you are never truly gone.

Rest In Peace Uncle. Love you man❤️