OctPoWriMo: Days 28 & 29 (Journey to Paths Somewhere)

I'm still finding it hard to write daily, but I am not finding in hard to write lately. I even am starting to try some of the forms that I past up on previous days. I don't consider it a failure to write 2 poems in a day, but I definitely prefer to combine said poems into 1 post. I don't like cluttering up my blog feed with more than 1 post. Sometimes it happens, but at least during OctPoWriMo it makes more sense to write poems all in 1 post. So, there...

Anywhooooo, I present Days 28 and 29 with a Fable and a Puente . Enjoy, Dear Readers!

Day 28~~~

Prompt: Journey, Path, Choices / Poetic Form:  Fable

The Road that I Trod

It's the pace that I set,

walking

or running,

but not always upon a 

dusty

road that I trod.

I wander far and wide,

upon asphalt 

and memories,

longing to run away,

but there is something

that clings to me...

There is always something 

or someone that I meet

upon these roads I trod.

Today it was a toad,

just sitting in the dirt. 

And Lo, did I realize that

something...

maybe, I should not be sitting in the dirt.

Upon reflection,

I set upon this road I trod,

bound for home 

and a shower that awaits me.

Day 29~~~

Prompt: Traveling, Wander, Nomadic / Poetic Form: Puente

A Bridged Walk

A walk in the woods

will yield a peace of mind,

as you travel under the canopy of leaves and pine cones,

especially when there are less distractions.

~but oh, there are distractions~

distractions, less of the natural and more of the mental,

that wanders through your grey matter

and your travel those roads

of memory 

and chaos

through a different type of woods.

OctPoWriMo: Lanturnes

Today's Prompt: Instead of writing about something that is different, a time when you wish you were brave, let's talk about something you wouldn't change. You did it and you're happy that you did. It could be a success or a failure. Perhaps a choice that others may perceive as a failure, but you know it was the best choice for you. Perhaps you took the road less traveled and it was a success for you.

Word Prompts: roads, traveler, passing, day, difference

Poetry Prompt:  (this is my choice for today) The Lanturne is a five-line verse shaped like a Japanese lantern with a syllabic pattern of one, two, three, four, one.

These remind me of haiku with their simple and yet powerful messages. I found my passion and this prompt is a good reminder of why I do what I do. Enjoy, Dear Readers!

Choice--

to write

some question

but I know why,

Dreams

Ink--

spills like

rivers flow

cascading down,

Tales

Write--

my choice

the ink is

my blood flowing

through

Roads--

new day

new choices

and travelers

go

Photos are from MorgueFile a stock photo website.

OctPoWriMo a 31 day poetry challenge. Go and visit my fellow poets on the Blog Hop here.

A Flash Fiction Piece: To Choose

He stood there. The reality seemed far more bizarre than anything he could have cooked up in his own head. There was a man, or someone that resemble a man standing behind a bar. He couldn’t be sure if it was a man or if it was a rather androgynous looking woman. The figure was dressed in a rather loose white shirt, a bright red vest, and a dark cloak. He couldn’t tell if the features were masculine or feminine, the face looked rather gaunt. His eyes traveled down to the chest, checking out without trying to check out the figure proportions. 

It was breathing. The rather nondescript chest rose with each breath. And it was staring at him.

The fingers of the figure were on the counter and he realized that the figure was tapping out a rhythm, “Are you quite finished?” the figure said in response to his stares. Its voice was rich and raspy, belying nothing of the nature of its sex. 

He walked casually up to the counter, eyeing the frame of the figure, slowing making eye contact, “You like?” it said and gave him a smile, wide and full of teeth.

“I do…” I words slipped out and suddenly realized that the figure must have been a man, “That’s not what I meant. Let me rephrase that…”

The figure still smiled, keeping eye contact, “Well you were giving me a thoroughly extended judgment. I was wondering what you thought.” Another smile and the figure laid its hand on his hand that was now resting on the bar. He didn’t remember doing that.

“I wasn’t judging…” the words spilled out. The hand felt soft. He looked down at the hands intertwined, but still felt that the figure was watching him.

“You weren’t?” it said surprised and pulled the hand away. He looked up at the figure, but now there was a woman behind the counter. A woman with red lips, blonde hair, blue eyes, and the largest tits he had said on any woman. “Now what do you think?” the voice was still rich and raspy, and this time seductive. “Maybe I should judge you, if you are going to judge me?” She raised one eyebrow, coyly.

He was partly turned on and partly disgusted, so he laughed, “There is only one who can judge me.” He was determined to not let this person get the better of him. “Besides, I don’t know who you are.” Looking around the coffee shop, “Hell, I don’t even know where I am.” He smiled, feeling more confident now.

“Most don’t when they come to my place,” the woman smiled and turned slowly away. In a moment the room grew brighter and there was now a man in a crisp three piece suit behind the counter, “Is this more to your liking?” another devilish smile showed the figure’s pearly whites. 

“Who are you?” he said, eying the man, “And are you coming on to me?” He tried to back up but couldn’t.

“Is that what you think? The figure sauntered slowly around the counter towards him. “That you are here for pleasure?” 

“I’m not gay!” it didn’t sound like a statement, but wasn’t quite a question, as he took a step back and almost fell over. “I’m not…” The figure stood and put it’s arms around his shoulders. Face to face he now felt uncomfortable. Stuttering a little he said, “Where am I? Is this supposed to be heaven?” looking around, sure to find clouds, ethereal light, and cherubs with golden halos; but there he was standing in a coffee shop. It was small, but there were about seven tables inside and the sunshine filled the place with a warm glow, which he took for the ethereal holistic depiction of heaven. There was the smell of roasted coffee that suddenly filled his nostrils and sticky buns that made his mouth water. While still in the loose embrace of the figure, “Am I dead?”

The figure laughed and shook its head, turning once again into the androgynous figure from before, red vest, cloak, and all. “Is that what you think?” Another laugh.

“Well, you have changed your face three time now, what else am I to think?” Not budging from the embrace. “Are you God?”

The figure laughed, smiling a full and bright smile. Bringing its head closer to his. He saw that its eyes were blue and then blinked to a green, “Is that what you think I am?” It laughed again.

“I do…” the words echoed from his mouth. He felt like he was far away, “Is this a dream?” The figure leaned over and kissed him. The lips felt soft and tasted like honey.

When the figure pulled away it said, “Is that real?” 

Eyes wide, thinking and processing, “Oh God, are you the Devil?”

“So quick to jump to conclusions, Sir,” and the figure pulled away, head turning slowly form him.

“No, don’t.” He jumped outstretched, “Please don’t change again. Just stay where I can see you.” 

The figure turn back to face him, “Okay.” 

He was aware of how empty the place was, not a single costumer inside or any that had come in. “Just stand there,” his voice trembled. “Where am I?” he asked, eyes fully on the figure.

“Just a Cup Coffeehouse,” the figure said.

“I’ve never been here, have I?”

“It’s not a normal stop. Thinking of it as a waiting room,” the figure smiled and gestured to the room. “Would you like a coffee, or maybe a tea? We have some delicious scones too,” the figure made a gesture to the display case on the counter.

“So, I am not dead?”

The figure did not laugh, but looked directly at him. “No, well, we have to make a choice before you can leave, don’t we.” The figure winked. “I was thinking of changing the name to Sticks and Stirs, what do you think?”

“Um, that sounds a bit different. So, I am almost dead?”

“Maybe I will just keep it as Just a Cup. Nobody would get it anyway.” Tipping its head the figure continued, “Not sure. Oh, well” The figure crossed back to the bar. “Oh and not quite.” Gesturing to the coffee shop, “This place is where one comes to after judgment to wait to move on, but in your case, you have only to choose. Now you, Sir, have a choice to make.”

“Choice?” he said surprised. “But what did I do? I can’t seem to remember what just happened to me prior to walking through the front door.” And he gestured to the front doors that were now clearly visible.

“Yes. You need to choose, and then you will be free to leave. But I will warn you, you will not like either choice…”

“Oh, god no…” he dropped to the floor.

“You remember now?”

“I do…” he whispered

The voice echoed across the empty coffee shop. “I gotta choose whether she lives or I die? Is that right?”

“Do you?” the voice of the figure now stood over him and echoed, like the coffee shop was much bigger on the inside.

“Why?” he asked.

“It’s a way,” all of the emotion was gone from the voice.

“We were to get married,” he voice took on a dream like quality as he remembered, “The wedding, I was on my way. I had been out late the night before…Celebrating that last day. I woke up late, and was trying to get ready. Rushing,” he voice hurried and frantic, “There was an accident. I wasn’t looking…I hit a car. Oh God!” He looked up at the figure. “I hit a car, it was bad. I hit a car, because I wasn’t looking.” His voice edged with tears

“You hit a car, yes.” The figure grabbed his arms, standing him up and shaking its head and the blonde’s face returned. The figure shook it’s head and become the man again. “Do you remember now?”

“The blonde, it was her. I was Britta.”

“Yes and…”

“The man was me. Is me.”

“Also right…”

He swallowed hard, “I have to choose to let Britta live and then I will die. Or I get to live, but I lose Britta.” The figure’s first face had returned, “Why would you make me choose?” he asked. Tears fell into his cheeks, “What kind of god are you?”

“I am not god, and I am not the one to judge you. You really are the only one who can judge you, Sir.” The figure leaned close, lips almost to his, “I am just here to help the ones ready to pass over.” The figure flashed a smile, all teeth and bright white. The face looked thinner thin. The rich and raspy voice continued. “I am just here, waiting…”

“Death?”

“In the flesh!” and the figure giggled. “I hate to hurry folks along, but this coffee shop needs to open and you are taking up space. Not to be rude, but it’s YOUR choice, Sir.”

“My choice, why?”

“Because you were the one that chose to rush, not to pay full attention and you have to face that choice. The choice is you or her. What is it?”

“But who make these decisions?”

“It has always been that way. It is what I do. Now your choice, Sir! So we can move along. 

He stood there and stared at the figure with the androgynous face, smiling. A quick flick and Britta’s face was there and then his face. He wanted to be selfish, but he could argue with Death. Could he?

“No you can’t. I am afraid it is one or the other. Please choose!” the voice become a bit more persistent. The coffee shop’s lights dimmed and he could hear the heart monitor beeping. He suddenly could see Britta in her bed all hooked up to machines. 

He started to cry, “I don’t want to choose!” he declared.

“If you don’t then, you stay here and she stay in her bed forever. Nothing more will happen and I will have to open another coffee shop and leave you here to service an empty coffee shop.” The words were bitterly amused, “You will be in,” a giggle, “purgatory. End of story. And you will only be able to watch her hospital room. You want that?” pointing to the back wall of the coffee shop.

No.” He stared at the wall. “No, I choose to let her live.” He wiped away the tears.

The figure smiled, and the face changed, “Thank you, Darling!” and the figure as Britta came over and kissed him long and hard. He was going to miss those lips, as she pulled away, the figure’s gaunt face returned. “Now, you will get to stay here and meet those who have to choose.” It smiled its toothy grin, its face even gaunter, almost skeletal now. 

“But, I thought I would be going on? To Heaven. Or Hell.”

“Well, you will be going on to your next assignment. That happens to be running this place until someone comes to replace you. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. This is a rotating position. Oh, don’t worry, the coffee is fresh and the scones are to die for.” The figure laughed and walked out of the front doors that closed with a merry chime. 

He watched the wall as Britta began to wake up. The colour drained from his face when suddenly the chimed sounded. He turned and saw a woman, short with red hair enter looking lost and confused. He smiled a big toothy grin and said, “Welcome to Just a Cup!”

Road Trip to Faerie Con 2013

James Owen and I (Cindy Scott)

There are times when you should ask the universe to grant you a request. There are also times when the universe will grant that request.

I wanted to be able to meet a man who changed my life. A man who is a phenomenal artist, an amazing writer, and an awesome person to know. It all started with the decision to buy a ticket to FaerieCon in Hunt Valley, MD, where this man was going to be signing books and changing lives.

James Owen is probably the most nicest and kindest man I have ever had the pleasure to meet.

I was first introduced to his work, "Drawing on the Dragons", a mediation of art, destiny, and the power of choice on suggestion from a Dear Friend. I did. I read the book, and my outlook changed. I started to re-evaluate my life. what had I been doing? Honestly, not as much I could. I have always want to be a writer, to put to word what my heart spoke deeply of. As an avid writing of poetry and found words comforting and healing. There were many a time when I wrote to understand the feelings I had; the angry, the frustration, the love, the beauty of this world. I majored in English while in college at SUNY Fredonia. Here, I wrote poetry, stories, and a crap ton of essays (which I sometimes miss writing still). But I wanted more, I tried, but like many I was easily distracted and the personal writing got pushed aside. I tried all through college and even for a bit after college when I put down the pen (I still wrote poetry occasionally).

I graduated college (May 2001) and tried to find my part in the world, not an easy task. I had moved to Corning to be with David (then only a boyfriend). A new start, a new chance, I fell flat and only a short time after graduating from college, I was coming back to Corning from visiting my parents, when I hydroplaned on a rainy highway. I hit a pine tree broke my ankle in two places and fractured a vertaebrae in my neck (makes my sonnet on vertabrae more poignant.) I spent three months confided to ours room within David's family's house. Thankfully my future in-laws (at that time were very kind souls, Thank you!), I was alone and struggling to find my place in a world that I was locked up of for three months. I did very little in the wall of writing. Finally, I was cleared to remove the neck brace and use crutches to get around. I got hired at the newly built Wal-Mart, as a people greeter (once the story open, prior to it opening I sat the front desk, which was where I was 9-1-2001, BTW). I was glad to have a job, but aside from that I had only a few friends in Corning through David. Once I was back on my feet, I thought this a new beginning.

Then came Dallas, TX in April 2002. It was a chance to start new, start over, maybe get a real job. I was trying to be a journalist at that time, but I had very little experience and no one to speak on my behalf. Not to say that didn't love living there. I proved a number of things to myself, that I could live on my own (with David of course) and be successful. I probsably could have stayed in Dallas, but David wasn't. He got a job at a local FOx Affiliate back in Corning doing video production and flew home in September 2004, I followed in October. This whole time I had tried to re-vivtalize some stories, but got back into poetry.

Back in Corning I found myself in several jobs of various sorts, nothing that made me happy. I even tried to getting into journalism again. In was 2006 when I got involved in theatre. I met some folks that David had started working with. February of 2006, I was the light/sound tech for a dinner theatre called, "The Pirates of Pink Pants and the Murder of Jolly Roger," a fun little  show thay was a cross between Gilbert and Sullivan and Monty Python. After that I audition for my first show later that year, another dinner theatre and then my first musical, Beauty and the Beast. I had found a niche that made me happy and I found some friends to share my life with.

I still wrote poetry and occasionally a piece of prose. I finally got hired at Schweizer Aircraft in June 2006 (they made Helicopters and Sail Planes) as a temp, in the shipping department, entering pick tickets in the computer. Then lead to a new position in Production Control as a Admin Support Clerk, which became permanent in April 2007. David and I married in March of 2007. I worked there until August 2011, when I was laid off. During that time I did a lot of theatre, auditioning for shows and learning new skills both onstage and off. It was during 2011, when my friend Vickie had told me of James' work and suggested I read "Drawing out the Dragons" I knew that Schweizer was changing, the work wasn't there anymore, as they had been laying off a few people here and few people there over the last year or so.

I chatted a lot with Vickie around this time and still do (she my cheerleader, along with Sara Love). I was trying to write again. I had the beginning of a fantasy novel and she listen as I talked about my dreams. It was she who told me about James and his book, "Drawing out the Dragons." There was a free version of the PDF being offered on his site Coppervale International;. I downloaded it, and when I did finally get to reading it I was floored.

I was so  taken away by this man who had struggled and fought to doing what he loved and  to come out on top. His words and my favourite quote, "If you really want to do something; no one can stop you; you you really don't want to do something; no one can help you," these are what awoken in me the fire that had been so dormant before. That was when I realized I had been getting in my own way. I was stopping me from being the amazing people I am destiny to be. I started writing, really writing again. A friend from college had pointed me to Toasted Cheese Literary Journal (online) where daily prompts were posted. Also, the fall of 2011 I started my first NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month), where you write a novel, 50,000 words in a month. I wrote a story 'Cryin' Mascara' during this time. I was out of work and need something to keep me going. Even after I got hired by my current employers, I still wrote. And I started reading more of James' stories, "The Chronicles of the Imaginarium Geographica", "The Barbizon Diaries" (sequel to DotD). 

I fell in love with his characters in his novel; the best and most favouritest part of the Imaginarium series was how I never knew what was coming, but was always wonderfully surprised by the turns that his stories took. I think I read "The Indigo King" in only a few days. The illustrations are amazing, the stories are stellar, and I couldn't wait to get more. By fall of  2012, I was directing my first BIG musical, "Charlotte's Web", which had  a lot of kids and needed patience and love. Suddenly, I now was really responsible for a cast of 30 people from ages 4 to 50+ and creating a living breathing show. Directing a show is a lot like having a baby (something I personally know, but I can really empathize with all the Mommas and Papas out there). I took James's words-very powerful words-and I used them on my cast. I believed in my cast, hence the reason I cast them in the show. But now I told them. I told them I believed in them. And guess what, they worked magic! As did my crew. We put on one of the best show ever (maybe I am biased, but the audience loved the show and I felt proud that this cast worked together to make something awesome). Recommendation:  start with the first book of the Chronicles of the Imaginarium Geographica "Here, there be Dragons".

After the curtains closed, I (having missed NaNo that year), set about starting a blog. i needed to put a closure on Charlotte and I wanted to write. So write I did. I vowed to write a blog entry at least once a week on something, anything. I have held that promise to myself for over a year now. Because of James -through his postings on Facebook and his website and in his books-I now had a strong belief in my self and some awesome self-confidence too. Starting experimenting with my writing and what I blogged about. I interview friends with new projects and business ventures. I watched and read books to compare books to movies. The English major in me was thrilled for the challenges. I also started a month long project to write a sonnet a day for a month, asking friends for topics to stretch the old grey matter. I just finished my first theme month, a book vs. movie adaptations of YA fiction that I grew up reading.

I have had such fun with the blog and I am really positive that for the first time in my life, that I am making the "Choices are cumulative, but the results are not always apparent or immediate". This is very true. I don't know what will happen, but I am really for the challenge and the ride of a lifetime. To date I have written I full novel (still in edit mode, that will change; 4 one acts, 3 of which have been performed; working on 2nd novel; 1 screenplay, also to be edited; a working blog, and can write a kick ass sonnet in IAMBIC PENTAMETER too (because that's how Awesomemists work). I have used James words to inspire others not only in theatre, but life in general, because he has inspired me. "Live deliberately. Decide are you the kind of person that things happen to, or are the person who makes things happen." I choose to make things happen.

right choices,

I asked for a chance to meet my mentor, James Owen. I got my chance. I got to tell him honestly how much is meant to me, how much he has change my life, how much I aim to help change the lives of others, and that I can call him a friend. Thank you, James for being awesome in everything you do. It was an honour to meet you and talk with you this weekend. I love your stories, and your words from your books and your life.

"Purpose is the reason; Will is the means; and Will guided by Purpose leads to Aréte: the fulfillment of one’s potential for excellence."  \

~James A. Owen

The new book is out, "The First Dragon". I got me a copy and got a Dragon drawn in it too! How's that for awesome!!

I want to share a few pieces of writing that mean a lot to me:

Sonnet #8: Vertebrae Love Story (or Built Like Children’s Blocks)

Magic of Story Panel

Built Like Children’s Blocks

Built like children’s blocks to form a support.

They are so stacked one upon each other

A towering form that has a rapport

With the spine, as a child to a mother.

Together they are made strong as a whole,

But separate they know are wavering.

Married by right in a love of the soul

That only they are now both savouring.

There is one course that could rip asunder

A love true and so bodily in realm.

White Rabbit drummer with young butterfly fairy dancing

A storm that has come and brought the thunder

And a bolt of lightening that broke their helm.

A divorce that neither would they have sought

When those, the careless could have brought it nought.

2/18/2013

Sonnet #31 Meditations on James Owen 

(or Bringer of the Awesome)

Bringer of the Awesome

Bringer of the awesome universes

Dragon Army of Baltimore

With mere words, you colour skies dazzling blue,

The sea, a turquoise green, which she disperses

Reflections of the sun’s auroral hue.

Creation of life with your pen and ink--

Marking the pages with its own heartbeat,

And inspire others that they may think

In a world you realize to be replete.

With your words, you are a guide to sunshine

That is outside the cave we, mankind, sit

Staring at walls of shadows that define

What we grasp and still to dark we submit.

From my sight, I have turned into the light

To a truth that beckons me to true sight.

3/13/2013