Category Archives: Writing Process

Into the Looking Glass

Into the Looking Glass

Just beyond the glass 

A land I have never seen

A place of fairy wings and mermaid tails

And hills of verdant green

Hand to hand I see myself

Reflected in these dreams

Step through the mirror

Creases in reality’s seams

Pop! I’ve arrived

On the other side.

What is it that I see?

A magical fairy boat ride.

I grab the rough railing

And board the steady boat.

Sitting on a tree stump stool,

I wait to cross the moat.

Suddenly, a rainbow appears,

Streaking across the emerald sky.

Along with a Leprechaun

Wearing a clover tie.

“Come with me,

My earthbound Dearie

See the fairyland sights

Which are neither dank nor dreary.”

” Lessons three you shall learn

On the way to me pot of Gold

And in the end you shall receive

Riches untold”

And then:

Three tiny fairies land

Twittering in language unknown

Verily no bigger than a hand.

“The iridescent sprites

Have not a care

They love life

And give death not a stare”

“As shall you

Love your life

Look past hardships

And not embrace strife”

The boat started moving

Down the sparkling ravine

Looking around I gazed in awe

At many magical sights unseen.

Cerulean trees

Line the banks of blue

And fragrant flowers 

Bring bees of a different hue

My ears! My ears!

What do they hear?

A melodious song

Look- mermaids draw near!

Their beauty is stunning

From iridescent scales to sapphire hair.

Holding golden mirrors

And giving quite a stare.

The Leprechaun said,

“Look close into the mirror

Beauty you will see not

But a vision of horror.”

“Just as your own beauty fades

Lean not onto it’s ethereal charm

Love your inner self

And you shall not come to harm.”

We left the sirens behind,

Approaching a sulphurous smell.

At the sight of dragon,

Of fear I had to quell.

Bright Flames, 

the color of the sun

Heated the rocks

Causing them to run.

Says the Leprechaun:

“Be not afraid of the strong.

Embrace their strength,

And you can do no wrong.”

And then the boat landed

In a mushroom dell.

As I stepped off,

I nearly fell.

Says the Leprechaun,

“There be me pot of Gold.

Look inside, look inside

If you be so bold.”

Slowly, step by tenuous step,

I climbed up the hill.

As I reached the cauldron,

My heart failed to be still.

Riches I want!

What would I find?

Gold bullions and rubies?

Leave my poor life behind.

Peer inside

What do I behold?

A shiny little rock

Surely not gold.

I grasp the rock

And my world spins

Suddenly, I’m back at the mirror

Where everything begins 

I look into the Looking Glass.

What do I see?

A beautiful golden soul

Staring back at me.

My America, The Eagle Distressed

My, America, the Eagle Distressed

36291_719_american-eagle-flag-wings-cross-stitch-pattern-look

To even contemplate that we, as a nation, are akin to an Eagle— one with the Freedom of the skies; to have the time, the Liberty, to speak about this noble bird in any manner with total impunity, without fear of mortal retribution or imprisonment, is absolutely the epitome of said Liberty, our Constitution eternal.

Yet, these very Freedoms that we have been given, and the idle time for such contemplation, has placed our nation in distress. Our nation, the majestic Eagle, appears to be tearing itself apart.

The left wing bites at the right wing,
right wing pulls off feathers from the left wing,
Until not enough remain and our Eagle nation flounders

Meanwhile, vultures gather hungrily,
waiting, watching the sky for discarded wingbits–
hoping that they’ll get more than pieces.

Where the vultures lurk, we do not wish to go.
We do not wish to be ripped apart and subjugated to Theocratic rule,
intestines bared and bones scattered.

I wish that we all would look past our own feathers,
if only for a minute,
and relish the heights that we have gained.

I pray, I meditate on the words set forth in our grand contract: “[no person shall] be deprived of life, liberty or property without due process.” So, think again if you desire to pluck the vane from the feather on the other wing, even if it seems to not belong with your own. “ALL persons born or naturalized in the United states… are citizens of the United States.”

Shall we climb higher or go to the vultures domain?
Shall our words lift the other wing, even with respectful dissent?
Or Shall we continue to pluck out that which offends until there are only vanes of the same colour?
Can we afford to ignore that we indeed, The Left Wing and Right wing,
are essential if our great nation is to stay in Flight?

I, Butterfly

I, Butterfly

What has been written

that has not already been written?

What has been said

that has not already been said?

Is there no new place,

no new frontier

that man and his imagination

have not explored?

Can’t a single sparklight up a darkened room?

Can’t a lonely whisper

give voice to those once silent?

Is there not one action

that cannot change the universe?

Is there not one ripple

that cannot be felt across space and time?

 

 

***This is something originally written at least 10 years ago.  It only existed as the words on the left column. I cut many words and added a little balance; I gave it wings so to speak.

Willow

 

willow

Weep,

Oh Willow;

pour your tears

in the gentle well.

Your misty eyes shroud

your face amongst

the golden leaves.

Sad, sad tree,

smile and cast away

your sorrows.

Be glad; grow strong!

Dream;

Dream towards your tomorrows.

Poetical Genius, Musical Harp

music notes

Amanda

Poetic Genius~musical harp;
each note, each tune a word.
‘Ere the song is uttered,
a flower blossoms–
‘T Spring once more.
Patter, patter on the heart,
rain reaches fertile soil.
Grow, grow larger than piano keys;
engulf all which pain has killed;
empty churches and ghastly mine fields.

Poetic Genus~musical harp,
enrapture with your tiny tendrils.
‘Ere the first motion finished,
a gentle fawn matures–
‘Tis Summer again.
Golden wheat more abundant
than ocean’s sand.
Hear the sea, the redundant
melancholy, washing footprints
once left by a man
upon the warm unforgiving sand.

Poetic Genius~musical harp,
descend upon the fleeting ground.
‘Ere the last motion ends
a leaf falls to earth–
‘Tis Autumn once again.
Dionysus begins his fruitful reign-
producing the bittersweet fruit.
Oh tender grape;
to consume you is a sin;
Dangling from your twisted vine,
When now did you become divine?

Poetic Genius~musical harp,
persevere through winds of time.
E’er after the song has stopped,
soft snow buries the land–
‘Tis Winter forsooth.
Memories lie dormant,
dead to world is thy youth-
Forgotten is ages past.
Yet ever on will Spring return,
Keeping her harmonious voice.
Silence holds the land in sway,
but it will not last; it will not stay.

Taking the Plunge: Self Publication

So, I have decided that I am going to compile a short chapbook to give away and possibly sell during poetry readings.  I love making books, and this will be no exception.  The last book I made, I used paper I created (complete with flowers) and sewed it together by hand.

My list of questions:

1. Which poems should I include?

2.Should I also include my photography?

3.What should I name it??

4. How many should I make??

5. What materials should I use?

I googled, “How to make a chapbook.” and found a good 8 sheet template (16 book pages).

I am using the following resources to help in this endeavor:

http://nataliethompson.ca/2012/11/20/an-entry-about-my-chapbooks/

http://www.vanessakeccles.com/2011/06/how-to-create-your-own-chapbook.html

I will be posting updates including photos to document this exciting event. 🙂

Heart Reaper

Reaper of Hearts:  A Sonnet

heart reaper

Come forth, Oh spineless spiteful soulless sprite.
Come forth, from high and seemly hallowed throne.
Come forth, from dank and dark and dreary night.
Come forth, Oh faithless fake and fal’cious scone.
Were you a thing of comely beauty once?
Could you have loved with passion’s truthful grace?
Could you have worn favor trimmed with flounce?
Did you not see your action’s painful face?
Now I do see right through your vile facade.
Yes, I whose heart gave I to you, my dear.
Yes, I do know your crime and do not laud-
Now I do see the truth and do not fear.
Come forth! In truth your trial begins at dawn,
and I will ne’er again remain your pawn.

And The Trees Talk to Me

tree

And the trees talk to me in their whispered voices.
Can’t you hear their plea?
Their roots run deep through Earth and time
Their hearts beat as one
Their Arms reach out to the heavens above
In the palm of their hands, they hold the sun
Their very breath is life.

Yet lonely is this voice,

lost among a forest of humanity.

We heed not their cries. We  listen not to their warnings.
They are dead to us; objects to use- a means to an end.
Yet, I hear their plea;
I feel their pain stretching back generations
“The end is neigh,” they whisper

as they wither away leaf by leaf.

“We hold up the sky,”

“If all of our arms shall fall,

than the Earth shall surely die.”

So, fellow denizen of this planet.

Let us heed their sage words

and curb our selfish desires.

Either we shall live with a few wants

or the Earth shall want for a soul forever.

Fairy’s Ball

Continue reading

Ode to Time

This next post is a poem that I wrote as a senior in high school.  I included in a letter that was supposed to be given to me at my 10 year reunion.  The poem wasn’t that great, but having something from my past was neat!

Ode to Time

Ticking, ticking, Ticking

Invincible, Invisible clock,

The horrible hands hail life eternaltime

Upon death’s destructive door.

Moving, Moving, Moving

Man mirrored miraculously

Moving, moving, moving

Forward finally failing

Falling, falling, falling

Towards truth terrible

Telling, telling, telling,

Lucridous, lucid lies.

Living, living, living

Reliable retched recreation,

Raving, raving, raving

Callous cremated chrematophobia

Calling, calling, calling

Away…always away

Ailing, ailing, ailing

Do deal dangerously

Dying, dying, dying

Upon urgent universes

Urging, urging, urging,

Continuation, corruption, conceit

Confining, confining, confining

Life as life can live:

Time