RoadWriter

Heart, Soul, and Rough Edges — A Gypsy Journey of Words and Wonder

Archive for the month “April, 2014”

Inspiration through Participation

My favourite poetry book

My favourite poetry book (Photo credit: Nick Kenrick . enuf protesting)

This being National Poetry Month, I challenged myself once again to writing more poetry. Last year I wrote a lot of new poetry, but didn’t make the goal of a new one every day. I followed one community’s challenge, and some days the prompt simply didn’t work for me or I tired out.

This year, I am following not one, but five challenges. The Poetic Asides blog is doing it’s annual Poem A Day challenge. I discovered the NaPoWriMo (National Poem Writing Month) blog which posts daily prompts. The 30 Day Challenge page on Facebook is another to write a poem a day. I also joined the A to Z blogging challenge, which means blogging every Monday through Saturday in April with a consecutive letter of the alphabet. And there’s the challenge on the Sims game forums again this year, but for a poem a week instead of one a day.

Last year I ended the month with 19 new poems. This year, I have written at least one poem every day. Some days more. With nine days to go, I already have 30 new poems! What really made a difference was having so many prompts to choose from. I could combine different prompts, or choose just one, or do something completely different. In addition to just the prompts, I met new bloggers and poets, and was inspired by their poems. It was from following a fellow blogger‘s AtoZ challenge that I learned about the Elfje poetry form, which in the few short days since I tried it has become a favorite.

Don’t limit yourself. It’s by broadening our horizons that we find inspiration. 

Mary Butterfly Signature

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Boldly Going Where I've Never . . .

Boldly Going Where I’ve Never . . .

For the first time in my life,
I’m in control of colors that surround me.
Always the good girl in the past,
I chose what seemed right
rather than what made me smile.

For the first time in my life,
I’m responsible — me, responsible —
if it works, is dreadful,
or simply tolerable . . .
such a heavy weight to bear.

For the first time in my life,
I’m listening to that passionate
inner me, the one who wants
brilliance shining, nudging
me to try more scary things.

Rose Parade1

For the first time in my life,
my office will have a Rose Parade
red wall, cheered on by dove gray.
I’ll make my own bulletin board as
a canvas to hold treasures.

Teal, Magenta, Gray

For the first time in my life,
the loft next to my office
will share the dove gray
with Albuquerque Teal
to remind me of joy.

 

For the first time in my life,
Victorian shades of magenta, tinged
with orchid, will define my bedroom.
Rich, sensuous, ripe, emotional,
dramatic dancing colors.

Bedroom1

For the first time in my life,
the rest of my house
will pull in some glorious greens —
true connection to the beautiful
backdrop we see from all sides.

For the first time in my life,
I am boldly going where I’ve never
gone before. Courageous,
steadfast, scared of my swatches,
I’m a fledgling on a colorful limb.

 

 

 

Sleep, Night, and all that

I have sleep apnea, and am in the process of getting treatment. Yesterday I saw the sleep doc and gave her one of my cards.

“Have you written any poems about sleep?” she asked. “I’d be interested to see them.”

I went home and checked. I searched SLEEP and NIGHT in my large Google Docs colletion of poems. I have a lot.

Here are a couple of my favorites:

Weather Reportblueroad

The far side of the room
might as well be Europe.
I conjure morning’s gray sky,
stumble over backpack,
piles of pillows
tossed onto cold, bare floor.
I need a new lamp.
I knocked mine
off the nightstand,
my hand unsteady
from sleepless nights
dozing over a book
until four AM.
Coffee spilled
on my kitchen floor,
a wild whirl of my arm,
some time between
sleep and waking.

Night Journey

I drift weightless in nothingness
On my left is a yellow pail
Full of sea shells
On my right, a dirty white fox terrier
The terrier barks and runs towards me

I walk at twilight down a road full of shadows
The only sound is the clack-clack
Of my buster brown oxfords
On the uneven pavement

I round a corner and the fox terrier
Jumps out from behind a bush
He clamps his teeth around my ankle

I walk on a beach
Of smooth pale sand
That slopes down
To a navy blue ocean
A sliver of moon hangs on the horizon
The wind blows in my faceWP_20130517_002

I turn and the yellow pail erupts from the sand
My fingers melt onto the handle
I scream

The fox terrier crawls out of the hole
He jumps up and grabs the pail in his teeth
He pulls and I am free

The next morning the fox terrier
Is curled up on the end of my bed
A shell sits on a table by the door
My feet are wet and sandy

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