Day Twenty-Three: Daddy’s Girl

Tags

, , , , ,

dadnme

Daddy’s Girl

For years this grainy photo has held a memory of you and me.  A snapped shot as we walked across the open meadow, late morning, hand in hand.  The wind had just begun to stir enough to set the trees to gossiping as you let go and I stepped out on my own.  You remained within my reach though, I didn’t want to loosen my hold.  As I grounded on earth, the soft blades bent beneath my chubby bare feet.  Often your attentions were not for me, so I absorbed the moment, took in every part of it to covet in my heart.  Together alone, we wandered.  We talked about the wildflowers and of streams, and even the bees grew hushed and listened. The whispering Whitebark pine peeked in and out of shadow, back when the trees weren’t sick, and neither were we.  A brilliant blue Steller’s Jay reminded us to slow our pace and gracefully took wing.  The echo was magnificent as his call bounced around the quiet wooded plateau.  The overwhelming scent of pine still speaks of home in my soul.  Rocks pushed up through the grass, or the meadow grew around them, I don’t know which, but when I pressed my cheek against their rough faces they received me with delicious warmth.  A different kind of heat came from getting this close to the sun, and when it kissed the top of my head and wrapped me, it converged with my skin like a father’s embrace.  I missed it dearly when it  became clouded but I didn’t thunder, didn’t want to spoil that day. There were always clouds in the Sierra.  Their shifting shapes of vapor played among the granite peaks and traced the passes below that we would reluctantly follow home.  We walked to escape the pressures of this human life, you and me, or more simply put, we just walked.  In my mind I have always pictured this day with you alone.  In reality, just the photo remains of an uncommitted memory.

Advertisements

Day Twenty-Two: Merry Me?

Tags

, , , , , ,

Bunratty castle door (source: internet)

MERRY ME?

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!!

Tags

, , , , , , , ,

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

Tags

, ,

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

Tags

, , , , , , ,

Continue reading

Day Eighteen: Burn With Me

Tags

, , , , , , , ,

Blueflame

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

Tags

, , , , , , , , ,

mondaymeme2013-10-28

MY ALL ALONE

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,

humbled,

I’ve found my way home.

Day Sixteen: Trimming Excess

Tags

, , , , ,

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

Tags

, , , , ,

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

Tags

, , , , , , , ,

 

East

EAST

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.