Day Twenty-Two: Merry Me?


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Bunratty castle door (source: internet)


just outside the have and hold

I’m taunted with a wicked grin

jangled keys for my release

my gaoler from within

fingers raw and clawing

heavy oak and iron door

slams fast across a tendered soul

bars entry evermore

streaking bloodstains gather here

mark days of no escape

numbered on cold stone-heart walls

your endured, repeated rape

you’ll earn your spurs on me today

no honor shall remain

for I have sentenced myself to

a dungeon of disdain

a treasonous confinement

for us I did commit

but this weeping plight troth prison

is a crime I’ll not admit

Day Twenty-One: Sofa King Proud!!


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DIY Story Board

I’m not much of a DIY person, in fact, I freeze like a deer in headlights at the sight of power tools.  Honestly, just the words electric and saw put together make my adrenaline start rushing.  Directions for refinishing dressers and patterns for Roman Shades make me want to vomit from anxiety.  And painting is something you always, always pay someone else to do.  Home projects just aren’t my thing.  I’m that “measure a hundred times and cut wrong” person you hear about in urban legends.  But today, today was different.  Today, I made my very own story board for the book I’m writing for about $20 (including pins)!  I know it wasn’t refinishing a dresser, cutting wood, painting or making shades but I’m darn proud of myself. Sofa king proud you might say.

I have semi toyed with/committed to participating in NaNoWriMo but here I am, three days into November and I have nothing written…nothing!  Such a slacker.  I had a bit of a hairy weekend and that threw me all off my writing game for a couple of days but I’m back on track and, Hell, I’m going to commit right here and now.  I will write a novel (albeit a poor novel) in thirty days and this board is going to help me do it!  I seem to remember saying the same thing last year.  I could really be productive if I could just get out of my own way…

Day Twenty: Poetry Review


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I have been very fortunate to participate in the first batch of critiques at mainstreetandgreen,  check them out and submit your poetry if you dare!!

Day Nineteen: I’m a HalloWeenie


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Continue reading

Day Eighteen: Burn With Me


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Photo: internet

I need you

to be.

Our reaction:

strong and steady like wood and flame

enveloped in air.

Fast, and furious, and instant,

vapors touched off by a spark

or the strike of a match.

And sometimes we find ourselves

just settling down to keep it at an ember,

warm and slow after a long intense blaze.

We feed off of each other and it’s consuming.

As long as we are connected, united,

in some way put together,

we will always melt the insidious frost when it comes for us.

Promise me the fuel you are for me

will never exhaust.

Promise me you’ll never leave me alone

on a frigid night.

And I promise you,

I’ll always tickle you with tongues of flame,

spark you to believe the unbelievable,

achieve the unachievable,

And burn for something.

I promise to be that touch to kindling,

the catalyst for inferno,

and the ignition you can’t fire without.

I promise because

I need you

to be.

Day Seventeen: My All Alone


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Escaping the tragedy of moral poverty,

I remove myself from humanity,

and run headlong into the ancient primal wood.

Slowing to breathe,

my mind begins to wander,

lost with my feet, like an uninhibited child.

The silence of the forest is only challenged

by the life that teems around me.

A scent of earth and trees seems to roll on,

forever filling me,

as I make my way down the path into my all alone.

I’ve carried with me a heavy, gnawing thirst

that begs to be purged.

Yielding, I bend to drink from purity

and savor the clarity of the quenching, conscious, stream.

I’m granted pause to continue on.

Freedom from darkness surrounds me,

and dappled in a sunlit shade of new growth,

I’m suddenly aware of sanctity.

The eye-stinging nature of beauty overcomes me,

and I’m prompted to fall to my knees and weep unrestrained,


I’ve found my way home.

Day Sixteen: Trimming Excess


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After sleeping on it I have made a decision.  I will import my poetry blog over to this site to condense the amount of back and forth I am doing managing two blogs.  I have been in this a little over a month and I’m making mistakes as expected.  I am never really good at going into an endeavor with a concrete plan (*sigh*),  I kind of just feel my way around until I get it.  This is no exception.  All will be updated today and I will be ready to move forward as one writer!  So excited!!

Day Fifteen: Uninspired


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My mind is blank.  Somehow I think if I sit here long enough having a staring contest with my keyboard I will find inspiration.  Nope.  Just watering eyes, and passing time.  Maybe it’s the distracting football that Hubby is watching on TV.  Maybe it’s the work I should be doing, on my mind.  (Ha!  work…on my mind!)  Perhaps it is the commitment I’ve made to myself to write every day.  Maybe it’s just me but I’m literally feeling brain dead.  The challenge here was to write, write well, and write every day so here I am.  This sometimes happens, right?  Do they make a type of Viagra for the flaccid mind?  I am grateful that a month ago I wasn’t even writing and now I’m writing two blogs and a book but I’m a bit overwhelmed.  I have been trying to decide if I should combine the two blogs or keep them separate.  Decisions…decisions….I think I’ll sleep on it.

Day Fourteen: East


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I wake early contemplating at dawn

so I walk the daybreak.

Silver streams of chill air

rush in and catch around my heart

as I look out over the familiar mountains

I’ll miss so dearly.

And as I do, something warm begins to rise in my chest.

The emergence of an emboldened blaze.

Like poppies that shoot up,

reaching toward the the rising sun, it grows.

As first-light strengthens,

my feet find themselves warming a beautiful carpet

of glowing emerald shoots,

and only now do I turn to see the path I have made for myself.

Nothing more than shattered dewdrops

and flattened blades behind me.

Facing east and my future with you,

I pray for some familiar something of me to take,

but not to make me feel home

because I am going home.

Simply something to remind me of this day I lived,

my last without you.

I would never before have been this grateful

for just a day.

Your courage pushes me toward the sky like the oak,

just a little at a time and with unwavering strength.

You give me the faith to easily slip up

and over mountains

In the way of the clouds,

simply dropping a bit of rain and moving on.

So I say goodbye to my last day without you

And welcome the unknown

as the moon and stars fall away from daybreak,

and move to light up someone else’s night.

Not regretful,

Just knowing,

It’s time.

Day Thirteen: Say It


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Sunset This past week I was standing on the soccer sideline during my son’s practice, talking with another parent and trying to keep warm, when a third woman joined our conversation.  My friend’s other child plays on the same team with her daughter but I had never met her.  She looked totally normal, nice coat, cute boots, nose running from the chilly temps and colored bright red just like mine.  But with sudden trepidation I realized who it was that I was so casually chatting about laundry and new-model minivans and smelly goalkeeper gloves with and I went cold with fear.  I all at once felt uncomfortable and didn’t know what to say; what words to choose.  I found myself rolling every comment around in my mind before it was said to make sure there was absolutely no possible association with death, son, car….You see, this woman witnessed the loss of her 12-year old son in a tragic accident last year.  The feeling reminded me of when I was young and my brother and I would go out shopping with my mom and act up.  My mom would say “remind me to spank you when we get home.”  I would spend the rest of the day avoiding the ideas of spank, hit, strike, punish, trouble… fear that she would remember to follow through.

From the outside you could never tell  this mother was shattered and how she still walks around daily is beyond me. Her grief must be unbearable.  I know her more intimately through her Facebook remembrance page for her son and the charity events our soccer club has put together for her.  I have read her grief in the posts she writes once a month to him.  Her post from last month on his birthday was particularly heart-wrenching.  I wish I had chosen to say what was in my heart then.  Things like “I admire you for not losing your faith in God” or “your strength is amazing” or “if you ever need anything here’s my phone number” but I didn’t, I froze. I was afraid to speak because I was worried I would trigger the memory of her worst nightmare, as if she ever forgets it for a moment.

This encounter got me thinking about how important it is to just say the words that you want to say and to speak from your heart, or you may lose the chance.  Nothing should hold us back from giving a part of ourselves to others, of letting them know we care, of spreading love.  If you think someone looks beautiful in blue, or you appreciate their sense of fairness or compassion, or their haircut rocks, let them know.   If someone looks like they are having a rough day, just hearing you tell them it is going to be alright or asking if they need anything will help.  Make sure your loved ones know you are behind them 110% in everything they do if it makes them happy, that you have their back, and they have your support.  And most importantly of all, make sure that every day, everyone you love, knows you care because there may be no tomorrow.