Friday, June 24, 2011

My Friends

My friends
Have done
Such amazing things
And been so many things
For me
They have held me
In their arms
In their thoughts
In their hearts
And in their words
My friends
Make me think
Make me smile
Make me laugh
And make me sigh
I am not an easy person
To love
I am moody
I am conflicted
I am me
To be held
In their embraces
Is to know
That no matter what
Everything will be okay
I thank God
Every day
For these special people
Who have entered my life
And call me friend
They give me security
And hope, and advice
But most of all
They give me love
I'm afraid
That all I have to give in return
Is my gratitude
And my undying love
I hope that's enough

If Only In My Dreams

Are you or perhaps I should speak of him instead of you
Does he or whoever take everything
When I sing of dancing
Naked (gasp!)
Do they or we
Think my clothes are in a heap
Down in my (our) (your) kitchen?
Perhaps I don't have time
For celebrations
While I am stalking
For little girls
And boys (our/yours/mine)
I'm sure
As I am not creative
To envision fantasy
For I live in reality
And wear my heart
And my imagination
On the sleeves of my dress
The dress of my dancing
Flung off in my haste
As I write my sorrows
And weaknesses
Pains (no joys?)
For all to see
Voyeurs to my thoughts
My lovers embrace
All too real
If only in my dreams

Reality and Fiction

Reality and fiction
Words of fancy
Words of me
Somewhere in the middle
Lies the truth
Of what I see
The truth is not for you
Not from my words
Not today
You lack a certain something
To understand
What I say
If I could lock you out forever
From my words
And my heart
It would be the greatest gift
To myself
And my art

Setting Myself Free

What is this?
It occupies my soul
Creeps in a little at a time
Until there isn't room for me
Is it fear?
Is it pain?
Is it heartbreak, or loneliness, or shame?
All of the above.
It doesn't matter
I need not name it
It is anything that steals my smile
Or makes me feel less than me
It is him.
It is them.
It is you and me and us
Right now I am down
As low as I can go
I am fragile
And so much less than me
But I have the power
And the will
And the strength and the courage
To change things
I have choices
And decisions to make
That affect not just me
But those I love too
I will open my heart
Open my soul
And chase these things out of me
And set myself free

Sunday, June 19, 2011

Go read...

There is a wonderful (and creative--go figure) post by my good friend Keith Dugger on listening to that voice within that urges us as artists to get off our butts and go do, HERE... My wish for this post is simple...go read it. 

Monday, June 13, 2011

One Day by Keith Dugger

I had a terrible, horrible, day today. Doubting myself. Frustrated. Angry. Sad. All those rotten emotions kept coming at me even as I tried to find my center, my balance. I had let someone upset and anger me well beyond what I should have. Basically, it was just one of those days. 

When I tried to vent some of this I became even more frustrated and angry because I was censoring myself. It's hard to vent and hold your thoughts back at the same time. Then I received an email from one of my best friends, Keith Dugger.  At the first two words the tears started to flow and by the end I was bawling like a baby. I guess I needed that.

Thank you, Keith for the gift of your words, your friendship, and for always knowing what I need from you even when I don't know myself. I love this.

One Day
by Keith Dugger

One day you'll look up and it'll be there. You may have stopped looking for it, hoping and praying for it by then. You may have stopped believing that you deserve it. At the time, you won't recognize it. Even if you catch a glimpse of something you remember, you'll tell yourself that it isn't possible. You'll see what the world around you had taught you to see, but it'll be there. 

One day you'll look up and you'll realize that it's been there all along. Even when others might have said different or pulled you down with them. It's the little things that bring it, it's the little things that tear it down. But it's there. Waiting. It's patient and it'll wait for you in the silvery shadows for as long as it takes for you to remember that you deserve its friendship, its companionship.

One day you'll look up and it'll be there staring back at you with a smile that seems humanly impossible. And that will be the day happiness reminded you that it was there.

Interrogation by Dave Sobkowiak

When a friend of mine, Dave Sobkowiak, saw the combination of posts from a few days ago he was inspired to create a little piece of writing for me.

The first post talked about my frustration at having to second guess which of my posts, which words, could or would be taken out of context or possibly used against me in some way by my soon-to-be-ex. And my decision to censor myself creatively and just not post any more poems for the time being. I then went on to take down about a third of my posts.

The second post was a call for submissions on Creativity, Art, and/or Inspiration. I hadn't thought about the two posts together. They were completely separate events for me. I have always had a fascination for finding out what makes people this case other artists.

Dave saw the irony (and felt my anger) of the two combined. First, I was saying that because of the actions of another I was taking my own content down. Then, I was asking for new content from others.

Thank you, Dave, for this. I love it.

Because of recent events I feel compelled to list the following disclaimers:
1. The following is a work of FICTION
2. I am not the author

That said, I hope this makes you smile...

by Dave Sobkowiak

Anger, fueled by rage.

That's what they said when they hauled me in, and deposited me unceremoniously on to the chair.

I expected a bright light in my eyes. I expected a stone-cold interrogator.

I half expected to be beaten with a hose, but to my surprise none of this occurred.

My cuffs removed, coffee offered and received, I remained untethered to the chair, watching as they played good cop and better cop.

I smiled politely, and I nodded occasionally when they offered their insights.

I feigned ignorance in a manner a child could recognize as transparent.

Their patience with me was admirable, but they knew the truth.

They will never find your body.

Sunday, June 12, 2011

A Little Excitement

Two weeks ago the tree at the back of our property was hit by lightning and took out the power line. They say lightning never strikes twice but for me, 10 feet is close enough to be the same place. This afternoon we had a nasty but very brief thunderstorm whip through again. Lightning hit our neighbor's tree. I heard the telltale chuffing sound of a deisel firetruck coming from the back of the house. Jake and I went to investigate and here are some of the resulting pics.

Thank you to the Harrisburg Fire Department once again; not just for doing what they do best, but for being good sports for the crazy barefoot chick taking so many pics.

Tuesday, June 07, 2011

Guest Posts Wanted


When you see those words what comes to mind? Are you a "creative"? Do you write, draw, compose, paint, dye, design, or create things that are unique to you?

I want to know your thoughts on any or all of those three words. In whatever context you chose to write about. What do you create? How do you do it? What inspires you? What are your thoughts on art in general? Anything. It can be insightful, poignant, funny--whatever--I want to know what YOU think.

I will be contacting people directly but don't wait for me...if you are interested you can send me a DM on Twitter (@BrightEyedDyer) or send an email to DyedBrightHere (at) gmail (dot) com. If I'm not already following you on Twitter, just give a yell and I'll correct that.

Thank you all in advance...I can't wait to find out what you think, what inspires your creativity.

**You can email your posts to me at the above address. I'm not looking to intrude too much on anyone's busy schedule so the deadline is when you can get it done (preferably in the next few weeks). I am hoping to start running them in a couple of weeks. One every day or other day depending on how many of you are brave enough...

Thank you again!

~~Added on 2/18/12:  This post and the response it generated were the catalyst to a little site called Chocolate Scotch. I am still seeking guest posts and would love to include you and your thoughts in this project.   Sue~~
Lists of must do
should do
have to do

Don't wanna do
not gonna do
you can't make me do

The child in me screams
and cries
throwing a bloody fit

The adult in me sighs
shrugs off another round of depression
and gets to work

For Now

I wrote a simple little poem a moment ago. I was about to post it when I stopped to wonder what he would think of it and how would his reaction affect me.

Would there be even more animosity (as if that's possible some days)? Would it cause him to send yet another email to his lawyer (which in turn means one from her to my lawyer and then one from him to me in a viscous, expensive cycle)? Would I feel better in some minuscule way for having posted it? Is it even possible to feel better? And, now that I've spent all this time and emotional energy pondering his reaction and the value of the post in relation to his reaction, do I even give a damn?

I go through this internal debate every time I consider posting something now. To say I am pissed off about this doesn't begin to describe my anger. I write for me. That a few people might enjoy reading my poems or thoughts is just a bonus. Writing is a release of sorts but more than that, it's a way for me to look back and remember moments, emotions, things that would otherwise be lost in the stream of fleeting thoughts that flows out from me.

I love having other people read my words. For now, it's just not worth it. So, I might still post the occasional thought here--most likely in essay or journal entry format--but I think I'm done with putting my poetry out for public view. Too often they are too close to what I really think and feel. And in those rare moments when I try to push myself to stretch and do fiction or other forms, they are taken out of context and used against me.

To put it simply; for now, I'm done.

For now.

PS: This doesn't mean I will stop writing. On the contrary, I will probably write more. I just won't be posting them here publicly. For now. There WILL be a later. I guarandamntee that.