Here, There be a Writer

Monday, January 21, 2019

A Paradelle (Challenge)

In a cruel joke on myself, I must note that. I chose this life, the life of a poet. I accepted a challenge to write a Paradelle, see the link for description.

I take a lot of pride in my ability to know and write in a wide variety of poetic forms. There are a few form I haven't tried yet. I do enjoy when presented with a form I hadn't heard of before, or written. A paradelle my boyfriend said, a parody of the Villanelle, see link for explanation. Both forms are strict in their form, with line repetition and rhyme in the case of the villanelle.

I was already into today's writing, so I decided to try it. It'll be easy.

Yeah, once I read the description, I kind of started to doubt my abilities. But, I also don't give up easily, except with a Sestina. I keep bringing that form up. It really need to share that poem sometime. I wrote a truly terrible sestina in college, for a poetry class. It was bad! So, a paradelle is a repeating poem with four stanzas; the first three have repeating lines that are the same (a, a, b, b, c, d), but the last two lines use all of the words in the first two (four) lines. In the last stanza you have six lines; using all of the words from the whole poem (only once for each word). It is a jigsaw puzzle of words and sense.

I did it though!

Note: as a challenge to you, Dear Readers, if I double used a word, or missed a word completely. please leave me a comment. I will revise and resubmit, because I am that type writer.

Crystal Forest Fracture

Outside, the middle of the forest
Outside, the middle of the forest,
Where nary a soul will set foot
Where nary a soul will set foot,
A soul, middle of the outside,
Set foot where nary the forest will.

Where the world begins to fracture
Where the world begins to fracture,
Built of ice and crystal
Built of ice and crystal,
Crystal begins to fracture and
The world of ice where built…

...that will not last through the midwinter
...that will not last through the midwinter,
The empire will fall in the Spring
The empire will fall in the Spring,
The Midwinter Empire will last not through
That will fall in the Spring.

In the Spring,
In the middle forest soul begins
To fracture and
Nary a foot will set in the ice world.
The Empire built of crystals will not last

Through Midwinter that will fall.

Tuesday, November 6, 2018

A Revolution...A Revelation! Some thoughts...

I never thought I would say these words.

I'm living through a Revolution!

Never. I always thoughts politics was boring; and I hated Government class senior year of high school, or political science anything back then. But also as recent as before the 2016 election. I remember studying revolutions, yes, but not living through one. 2018 is the year of the white supremacy, white nationalism, and anti-everything in the white house. And yes I realize that it started in 2016.

Okay, that is a super generalized statement, but since the 2016 president election, the growth of the intolerant, fascist, anti-woman, anti-Muslim, anti-LGBTQ+, pro-tax cut for the wealthy 1% kind of hit me full force; I was terrified. Am still. Will always be terrified of that kinda of hatred and fear. It is real! It is happening!  I couldn't deny it, nor could I ignore it.

I was/am angry!

I still am/will be.

This time I will not be silenced by the ignorant, small minded conservatives who clearly believed anything that President Cheeto (one of my favourite names to call him, but not the only one) said or tweeted. I started speaking up. Paying attention to the news. Talking about all the things that I shunned before. And something happened, I became angry, but I was also clear headed in my anger. I started to try to understand why the conservatives thought the way they did. I stood up for others. I protested and argued. Somewhere in all of that I decided that staying angry helped get through the bad shit, and it helped drive me to create art, help others, and fight the battles that we (as a country) need to fight.

Today is election day, mid-term election, when the balance of power, the pendulum, begins to swing back. I voted at 7:30 this morning. I was to wired to lay in bed until I had to go to work. I was awake. I woke up! Voting starts with a single person, yes, but from that so much can come of it. I may not always be a positive person, but my anger makes me a powerful enemy, because I know what I AM FIGHTING FOR.

I voted.

I tell others to vote.

I do not keep silent.

And I will be everything I can to reclaim my country. A country that has lost a lot, but still has potential. Like I see potential in my theatre children as they grow up, in my friends who are  learning to grow and are finding their own way, in my community that wants so much more than what we currently have.

Yes, I am angry, but I am rightly angry. From my anger I sow the seeds of love, art, charity, and a dash of humility. I make the world better, because I am angry. I won't always be anger, and the whole won't always be broken. There is always hope.

I am a fighter in the new Revolution!

Vive la Revolucion!

Wednesday, October 31, 2018

OctPoWriMO Day #31 (endless)

Word prompts: endless, infinity, eternal, sharing love

Poetic Form: Etheree. A poem that consists of 10 lines of 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10 syllables.

I didn't want to think to deeply about today's prompt. It seemed fitting that I write this one from the heart, a philosophy of the heart, if you will. I have written a lot of intense poems this months, sparked by events in  my own life, and sometimes from my friend's lives. Today is more about how I feel about the emotions and feelings that rule my life. A bit taken from my personal philosophy put to words. Somehow the etheree was a fitting form to convey my thoughts as they trickle to a fine point.

I hope you've enjoyed this months writings, because I honestly have. There is something powerful in words, but also powerful in taking those words and making something new. I hope it isn't too trite. It is (gaily) from my heart.

Enjoy, Dear Readers!


There is an eternal feeling in what
you know to be unconditional--
its a love borne of patient grace,
that finds its way back home to
what is better known as
a heart still beating.
My heart is real,
you are real. 
I see

Tuesday, October 30, 2018

OctPoWriMo Day #30: (dancing on the moon)

Word prompts: ecstatic, exuberance, joyful, celebrate, on cloud nine

Let's just  say that today's poem about joys and ecstatic beauty is fueled, as often is, the sadness that precedes it. I actually wrote a Pleiades, a 7-line poem with 6-syllables in each lines; based on the Greek Myth of the Pleiades, the seven sisters of Atlas and Pleione. It is also a star formation made up of about 500 stars, although only 9 to 12 of them can actually be seen and only 6 at a time.

I'll let the poem speak for itself. Dear Readers. Enjoy!

A Journey Begins...

Somewhere beginnings are
full of ecstatic joy,
leaning heavily on
knowledge that came before.
I know that to begin
there is sadness behind
celebratory steps.

Monday, October 29, 2018

OctPoWriMo #29: (by the numbers)

Topic: pick a number, write a poem!

1 - unity
2 - duality
3 - spiritual/mystical
4 - universal
5 - human life
6 - perfection
7 - lucky
8 - auspicious
9 - pain/sadness
0 - nothingness

I knew where this was going as soon as I saw the post. Once I read the post, I figured I would have to pull out my favourite nerd reference from Douglas Adams. The number 42, which is the supposed answer to the the Question "What's the meaning of Life?"

The computer Deep Thought postulated that 42 was the answer, without giving an explanation. I never understood why, but I always thought that his must have meant something by 42. The simplest answer is the 42 means whatever you want it to mean. so, to ask the question, what is the meaning of life? Well, whatever you what it to mean gives you a chance to make life whatever you want.

I also believe that the world and the universe is filled with duality: good vs. evil; black vs. white; or day vs. night. That means that I could take the two sides and make them whatever I wanted them to be. That is how today's poem was born.

It is free verse and open to interpretation, but I like that, so it stays!

Universal Duality

Call me universal duality--
where I can be anything
or anyone;
or flip me 
because of my dual nature,
I can be good or bad.

For good,
I want the  world,
at my fingertips,
counting the possibilities
of storytelling
and building mythologies.

Of the bad,
Make me choose
and you will find me
not so agreeable
nd your head upon a platter.

The choice--
it is always my own,
not owing to anyone.
My happiness is here,
within reach

And I am the potential,
I am the universe,
I am the dual goddess,
I am 42.

Sunday, October 28, 2018

OctPoWriMo Day #28: (split in two)

Word prompts: broken,  dilemma, choice,  chasm,  schism

When At The Fork You Come To

Make me choose, you say
To cross the broken bridge there,
maybe I won't go.

No where do I feel
safe that was long since lost to
dilemmas now here.

When I once knew why,
The schism of my world
Has left me alone.

To forge ahead that
Which I have long since reclaimed,
No more split in two.

Saturday, October 27, 2018

OCtPoWriMo Day #27: (what colour is it?)

Word Prompts: color, shade, tone, color theory, design

Concept: Synesthesia

I took a bit of liberty today, Dear Readers. After a particularly long week and and a lot of thinking, and there has been a lot of thinking this month. Okay, mostly because I have been writing poetry, but it does make one consider a number of things, like today's prompt.  I have been into Marina and the Diamonds since she first hit Youtube some nine years ago. She mentioned having synesthesia, the ability to see sounds as colours is the most common. It means that the sensation of one sense is interpreted by other sense, causing a whole new sensation. this concept fascinates me as I don't readily experience this. I think sometimes if I am really tired, I can interpret things differently; as a writer I love to explain how someone who is blind can explain (or know) what the colour blue is, a deaf person explaining what Mozart's symphonies sound like, or someone with sensory issues how silk feels to their skin.

Today's poem finds a little more of how we can understand the things that are understandable, to us, or to other people.

The Unseen Senses

Can you tell me
what I want to know
the colour,
and tone
of things with no colour.

Tell me what 
shade of colour 
a song is
or mauve;
the way the colour
feel or tastes, 

I don't think I know,
ask the synesthesiaiac
and they'll tell you 
the colours
of music notes.
How they, 
taste upon their tongue,
or even what they feel like.

A song,
that tastes like melted chocolate,
or a book's verse that
feels like silk on soft skin.

How do you explain 
the unseen senses?