tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-261756002024-03-07T05:03:04.039-05:00More Yarn for Me!My original blog. My thoughts on anything. I occasionally still put yarn or fiber things here but for the most part you can find those things at http://www.DyedBrightHere.com. Please follow me on Twitter! I'm @BrightEyedDyerAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03929485857099153805noreply@blogger.comBlogger448125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26175600.post-29390544247587524382012-07-31T07:05:00.002-04:002012-07-31T07:07:49.848-04:00In TransitionI am currently in transition....or, well, my blog is. Both of us in truth I suppose. <script type="text/javascript">
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I don't know my thoughts on whether or not I will completely discontinue this blog or not at this time. I am currently working on moving the poetry, essay, and photographic posts that are here to my new site</div>
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<span style="color: purple; font-size: x-large;"><b><a href="http://suebaiman.com/">SueBaiman.com</a></b></span></div>
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So, you can find my new poems there, and the older posts as I get to them. The stuff from the first few years here is going to remain here but will not be transfered over. Eventually, I will be taking down the posts that I have moved so that they are each just in one place.</div>
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The new site is being designed (it is definitely a work in progress) to be my alter ego in the ethernets...to hold all of the different parts of me (writing, editing, yarn and fiber stuff, photography) and whatever else catches my fancy. In some cases, like the yarn dyeing, it will be a gateway via links to other sites. </div>
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If you have been here and have enjoyed any of my words or pictures, I hope you will visit the new site and join me there.</div>
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Life is an exciting adventure...join me for the ride of a lifetime.</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03929485857099153805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26175600.post-44365987556673698952012-07-25T22:35:00.001-04:002012-07-25T22:35:24.770-04:00Words I Need to Tell YouThere are words I need to tell you
<br>Words I want to say
<br>But the time is never right and once again
<br>Today is not the day
<br>
<br>I've loved you from the first moment
<br>Known you from the start
<br>You will always be a part of me
<br>Your words are written on my heart.
<br>
<br>Sometimes love isn't enough
<br>This isn't about just you and me
<br>No matter what we feel
<br>This wasn't meant to be
<br>
<br>So when I feel like sighing
<br>I will bite my lip instead
<br>And I'll try to forget what it was like
<br>Curled up next to you in bed
<br>
<br>While I don't think I can ever forget
<br>All the nuances of you
<br>I can understand
<br>This painful thing that we must do
<br>
<br>I never wanted to be an actor
<br>But it's a skill that I will learn
<br>I can pretend that it's not you
<br>For whom I always yearn
<br>
<br>When I sunk into the darkness
<br>You were there to pull me through
<br>You and I both know
<br>I owe my life to you
<br>
<br>So I will let you know
<br>You are off the hook. Free
<br>Go back to the life you have made
<br>You don't need to worry about me
<br>
<br>There are words I need to tell you
<br>About how I love you so
<br>So much so that
<br>I'm finally letting go
<br>
<br>
<br>Sent from my iPhoneAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03929485857099153805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26175600.post-20588691344512136252012-07-24T00:48:00.001-04:002012-11-17T17:04:21.637-05:00DestinyWhen religion is born
<br />
On gilded wings across the morn
<br />
And all of man's desires
<br />
Are spent across the hours
<br />
<br />
Only then will we be free
<br />
To search our destiny
<br />
For that moment in space and time
<br />
When I became yours and you mine
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03929485857099153805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26175600.post-38784721645069324402012-07-22T16:02:00.001-04:002012-07-22T16:02:27.515-04:00FocusI want to write
<br>The desire is there
<br>I have the time
<br>Hell, I've gotten good at making the time
<br>I have a long list of topics
<br>All things I have already started in my mind
<br>So many ideas
<br>But they are all in the abstract
<br>Emotions
<br>Situations
<br>Lessons I am learning mostly
<br>And a couple I have finally learned
<br>Everything is so jumbled for me these days
<br>I can't seem to focus
<br>On any one thought
<br>For more than an instant
<br>And no matter how fast I write
<br>It's not fast enough
<br>To stay focused
<br>Because one thought
<br>Keeps intruding
<br>But it's not really an intrusion
<br>Since I go there willingly
<br>And it's not so much a single thought
<br>As lots of related thoughts
<br>All centering around one person
<br>And so I've been having a terribly hard time
<br>Writing about anything
<br>Because it's not just anything
<br>Or anyone
<br>Occupying my thoughts
<br>It's you
<br>And so much more
<br>It's a list of places I want to show you
<br>It's thinking about the feel of you
<br>The scent of you
<br>The taste and touch and every other sense of you
<br>It's all the little things
<br>That mean so much
<br>And so with all of these thoughts about you
<br>Swirling around in my head
<br>In a happy whirlpool
<br>Of anticipation,
<br>Desire,
<br>Peace and happiness
<br>Is it any wonder
<br>That I can't focus
<br>On anything else?
<br>
<br>
<br>Sent from my iPhoneAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03929485857099153805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26175600.post-18333061650737776132012-07-20T05:58:00.001-04:002012-07-20T05:58:55.697-04:00Friday LoveIt's Friday
<br>I'd do a happy dance
<br>If I wasn't running late
<br>As usual
<br>
<br>Because it's Friday
<br>I get to wear jeans
<br>As comfortable
<br>As our relationship
<br>
<br>I pull on a faded tshirt
<br>As soft as a kiss
<br>And a sweatshirt
<br>That embraces me
<br>
<br>I step into shoes
<br>That make me want to dance
<br>I'm still so tired
<br>But it's Friday so it doesn't matter
<br>
<br>And before I dance out the door
<br>I tell you I love you
<br>I know you know already
<br>But I tell you anyway
<br>
<br>Because it's Friday
<br>And I do
<br>
<br>
<br>Sent from my iPhoneAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03929485857099153805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26175600.post-58371748326300969232012-07-19T15:44:00.001-04:002012-07-19T15:44:19.046-04:00Gasping For AirWhen I listen to a poet
<br>Perform their poem
<br>For the first time
<br>Not their first time
<br>But my first time
<br>When I don't know what to expect
<br>Beyond the title and their name
<br>Which sometimes is enough information
<br>That I am already holding my breath
<br>In
<br>Anticipation
<br>Of expected brilliance
<br>Because some people are so gifted
<br>That I would probably be enthralled
<br>By their snoring in the deep, dark night
<br>I am pulled in
<br>To their world
<br>To their words
<br>By their words
<br>By the rhythm
<br>And their passion
<br>And the images and emotions
<br>They paint before me
<br>And wrap around me
<br>Pulling me in
<br>Slowly
<br>Reeling me in
<br>Out of the water of my comfort
<br>Until I am in their realm
<br>And I suddenly realize that I can't breathe
<br>I am helpless in their grasp
<br>Spellbound
<br>My heart pounding
<br>Until they release me
<br>Back from where I came
<br>Gasping for air.
<br>
<br>
<br>Sent from my iPhoneAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03929485857099153805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26175600.post-80219291483042582712012-07-17T01:24:00.001-04:002012-07-17T01:24:25.329-04:00Hours on the PhoneHours on the phone
<br>Talking about anything
<br>Just to hear your voice
<br>
<br>
<br>Sent from my iPhoneAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03929485857099153805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26175600.post-20729642102002596552012-07-15T13:00:00.001-04:002012-07-15T13:00:12.508-04:00Discovering YouDiscovering you
<br>So new to me
<br>Each time we talk
<br>I unwrap
<br>Another present
<br>
<br>
<br>Sent from my iPhoneAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03929485857099153805noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26175600.post-82831607126392196532012-07-11T19:10:00.000-04:002012-07-11T19:11:05.429-04:00EscapeIn the day-to-day reality of life
<br>I battle demons
<br>And laundry
<br>Foes of my own creation
<br>And from my past
<br>I vanquish dirty dishes
<br>And depression
<br>
<br>I escape my little life
<br>By venturing into your worlds
<br>Created with your words
<br>That I may be surrounded
<br>By a new reality
<br>Your reality
<br>Skillfully crafted lands
<br>Where adventure awaits
<br>If I only believe
<br>
<br>Time is no longer measured
<br>In minutes, hours, or chores
<br>Instead I am timeless, ageless
<br>As your characters enthrall me
<br>Heart pounding, pulse racing
<br>Holding my breath
<br>In the hopes of their victories
<br>Soul crushed when they are defeated
<br>
<br>Thank you for providing
<br>A means for my escape
<br>A time when I am free
<br>And a subject for my dreams
<br>When I escape again into sleep
<br>
<br>
<br>Sent from my iPhoneAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03929485857099153805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26175600.post-37153057651509267502012-07-08T06:39:00.001-04:002012-07-08T06:39:54.014-04:00The Joys of TechnologyIt's that instant
<br>When I've just told you something
<br>Something I think
<br>You don't want to hear
<br>Something you need to hear
<br>Whether you like it or not
<br>
<br>I meant well when I said it
<br>It is a criticism
<br>But it's something you can easily fix
<br>If you want to
<br>Or not, it's up to you
<br>
<br>I wait nervously
<br>For your response
<br>And the silence is killing me
<br>I remember other times
<br>When I angered him
<br>And he pulled away
<br>Shut me out
<br>
<br>My stomach tries to turn itself
<br>Inside out
<br>My pulse is suddenly racing
<br>Why can't I breathe?
<br>Why haven't you answered me?
<br>
<br>Oh, god, no.
<br>Please don't be angry with me
<br>Please don't shut me out
<br>I couldn't take it
<br>To not talk to you
<br>
<br>As my panic attack
<br>Builds to a crescendo
<br>A message pops up
<br>Using a different program
<br>"Where did you go?"
<br>
<br>As the air rushes back into my lungs
<br>And relief washes over me
<br>I tap a response
<br>"Damn wifi"
<br>
<br>
<br>Sent from my iPhoneAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03929485857099153805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26175600.post-40901028976706984542012-07-06T08:12:00.001-04:002012-07-06T08:12:42.088-04:00OverflowWhen my brain is full
<br>No more room for anything
<br>Today's problems, thoughts, ideas
<br>Spill over
<br>The levy, the dam
<br>Burst
<br>Flowing
<br>Everywhere
<br>The words tumble
<br>Spill over
<br>Jumble
<br>Escaping into the noise
<br>To flee forever
<br>Catch them in a poem
<br>To make sense of later
<br>No thinking now just write
<br>Let the words sort themselves
<br>And solve the problem
<br>You and I are not needed
<br>To solve the riddles
<br>Of the words
<br>They are their own answers
<br>Freeing up my subconscious
<br>To work on solving the larger issues
<br>Like where do socks go when they escape?
<br>
<br>
<br>Sent from my iPhoneAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03929485857099153805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26175600.post-56929386469484571792012-07-02T08:50:00.001-04:002012-07-02T08:50:41.834-04:00Random thoughts about learning and relearning lessonsYesterday was a rough day. The weekends when my younger sons aren't here with me usually are. One of the things I still struggle with (there are many) is that it's okay to enjoy myself when they're not here. <script type="text/javascript">
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I should be thankful for the alone time, something I never felt like I had enough of when we were all together 24/7, but I'm just not used to how complete it is. It's one thing to want to carve out a few hours at a time, but this is so different.</div>
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I think I'm also still afraid of what others will think or say about me as a mom if I actually learn to like the time I have to create or pursue my passions. Why that is something I waste time or energy on is a whole other post. I need to let go of that negative thinking. I need to learn that I can't control what others think or say. I need to stop getting in my own way and blaming others. </div>
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I love my kids. That they know that is all that matters. I am learning to love myself. That's the hard part. I have 5 days out of every 14 where I am completely alone. Yes, my oldest son lives with me but he is starting to have his own life and I need to not get in the way of that with my insecurities and fears.</div>
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<br /></div>
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I guess what I need to start doing is not just set grand, lofty, somewhere-out-there-in-a-future-far-away goals but closer ones too and then do the work of scheduling the work (and actually doing the work itself too) to accomplish all that I want, all that I can dream. I'm wasting time being depressed. We all understand that time is money. So, I am squandering away a fortune when I spend a day on the couch.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div>
It's not enough to just dream, I need to get up off of my butt and DO. Ugh. </div>
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<br /></div>
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Yes, these are things I already know. And yet I seem to have to learn them over and over again. I'm wondering when that will stop. Are there things I've finally learned that have become part of me and I missed it? Hmmm....</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03929485857099153805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26175600.post-54496228843022618692012-07-01T17:44:00.000-04:002012-07-02T08:28:03.435-04:00Seven DaysI mark the passage of time<br />
Not as a continuous stream<br />
Of days or weeks or months<br />
But as an on again, off again<br />
Series of days<br />
A binary <span style="background-color: white;">system</span><br />
Zeros and ones<br />
Where I am either<br />
With you or without you<br />
Seven days where my world is bright<br />
Followed by seven of darkness<br />
I know you don't understand this<br />
You don't always see the joy<br />
When I'm tired from a day at work<br />
Or I'm telling you to do something<br />
You don't want to do<br />
Like pick up your toys<br />
Or hang up your clothes<br />
But you are the light in my life<br />
The reason I struggle to do what I love<br />
The reason I create<br />
To show you it's okay<br />
To follow your dreams<br />
Follow your heart<br />
So, after I smile and wave goodbye<br />
Calling out last I love you's<br />
As you leave with your dad<br />
A dark, heavy curtain comes down around me<br />
And the counting begins again<br />
Seven days to go...Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03929485857099153805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26175600.post-66257590792559755562012-06-28T20:31:00.000-04:002012-06-28T20:31:48.711-04:00UpliftingI lift my eyes to the sky<br />
Closing them in pleasure<br />
As the warmth of a new day<br />
A day of promise and possibility<br />
Washes over me<br />
<br />
I lift my hands<br />
To those needing a hand up<br />
Some days I am that person too<br />
Can we all help each other?<br />
<br />
I lift my heart<br />
Glad for all the opportunities<br />
This life gives me<br />
Day in and day out<br />
I am grateful for so much<br />
<br />
I lift up my voice<br />
In words and melodies<br />
Celebrating each moment<br />
That I have with you<br />
<br />
My trials are small<br />
Compared to so many<br />
My burdens light<br />
I have an abundance of riches<br />
That I am thankful for<br />
Each and every day<br />
<br />
My greatest wishes<br />
Are that I continue<br />
To learn and grow<br />
To have grace and compassion<br />
To do better each day<br />
And have humility on those days<br />
When I am not all that I should be<br />
<br />
Lift up your eyes and your hands<br />
Your hearts and your voices<br />
With me<br />
That we may help each other<br />
Love each other<br />
And experience all of the joy<br />
And wonder<br />
That this world holds for us<br />
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<br>I never claimed to be perfect
<br>In fact, I'm the furthest thing from it
<br>That I know
<br>
<br>I wear all of my imperfections
<br>Like a crazy-quilt shawl
<br>Draped over my shoulders
<br>Colors and textures so discordant they harmonize
<br>
<br>When my laziness and shyness
<br>Conspire against me
<br>I need someone behind me
<br>Urging me forward
<br>
<br>Not someone towering over me
<br>Pushing me down
<br>Pushing me back
<br>Recounting my sins
<br>
<br>For they are many
<br>And I am weak
<br>But each day I grow stronger
<br>As I heal myself from within
<br>
<br>The gentle nudges forward
<br>Help me move past my past
<br>Understanding and accepting
<br>All of my imperfections.
<br>
<br>
<br>Sent from my iPhoneAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03929485857099153805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26175600.post-53148316300547007692012-06-22T08:22:00.001-04:002012-06-22T08:22:56.257-04:00Fit For a FridayThe smell of wet asphalt
<br>Rolls up off the parking lot
<br>The urban equivalent of wet dog
<br>
<br>The rain is half-hearted
<br>Not the purposeful anger
<br>Of a thunderstorm
<br>Intent on reminding us
<br>How powerless we really are
<br>
<br>No, this is the kind of rain
<br>When it gets so humid
<br>That the greedy clouds just can't hold any more
<br>And the excess slowly bleeds off
<br>Reluctantly supplying some relief
<br>
<br>A melancholy moisture
<br>Fit for a Friday
<br>At the end of a very long week
<br>A respite of rain
<br>Before a glorious weekend
<br>
<br>
<br>Sent from my iPhoneAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03929485857099153805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26175600.post-47966642173446333582012-06-20T18:55:00.001-04:002012-06-20T18:55:51.387-04:00Reader's WishDancing, swirling around me
<br>Breathing on their own
<br>And giving breath to me
<br>These words--magical, alive
<br>I am under their spell
<br>Demonic or righteous
<br>I care not which
<br>Only that they never end
<br>
<br>
<br>Sent from my iPhoneAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03929485857099153805noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26175600.post-4284394751805972032012-06-20T06:48:00.001-04:002012-06-20T06:48:36.286-04:00The WriterWe all have the same words
<br>Yet yours are strung together
<br>In such a way
<br>As to make me feel things
<br>
<br>They are just words
<br>And yet a tear slides down my cheek
<br>When the meaning behind the marks
<br>Becomes clear
<br>
<br>You arrange simple words
<br>In such a way--your way
<br>And your stories
<br>Become embedded in my soul
<br>
<br>How I see the world
<br>Becomes forever changed
<br>By simple words, touched by you
<br>Thank you
<br>
<br>
<br>Sent from my iPhoneAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03929485857099153805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26175600.post-3869673625685581072012-06-19T19:41:00.001-04:002012-06-23T10:08:15.809-04:00On the High WireEvery day
<br>From that first moment
<br>Of almost consciousness
<br>To the bookended instant
<br>When I finally let go
<br>And sink into the blackness
<br>I waver between okay
<br>And not
<br>
<br>Taking one cautious step
<br>After another
<br>Feeling my way along
<br>Terrified that I will lose my footing
<br>And fall into the abyss
<br>
<br>I used to have a net
<br>But I got better at this
<br>Or so he tells me
<br>This high wire act of sanity stepping
<br>
<br>I shouldn't look down
<br>But I have to
<br>Just to assure myself
<br>That I'm still safely up above
<br>
<br>I've fallen many times
<br>But my net was always there
<br>To catch me
<br>Before I hurt myself
<br>
<br>The trick now is noticing
<br>That instant before I wobble
<br>To stop myself before I slip
<br>I can't afford to fall again
<br>Now that I'm on my own
<br>
<br>I slowly work my way
<br>Across the chasm
<br>Inch by agonizing inch
<br>Wondering what or who I will find
<br>When I reach the end
<br>And safety
<br>And will it have been worth
<br>This circus stunt existence.
<br>
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<br>Sent from my iPhoneAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03929485857099153805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26175600.post-4494044134162548512012-06-17T19:22:00.001-04:002012-06-17T19:26:20.008-04:00One More PromiseRazor blades slowly slicing
<br />
Ribboning skin
<br />
Sadistic zebra stripes of blood
<br />
Couldn't hurt worse
<br />
<br />
Crying doesn't help
<br />
There aren't enough tears
<br />
To wash away this pain
<br />
Without drowning
<br />
<br />
Trying to hold it all in
<br />
Hold yourself together
<br />
So confused, so scared
<br />
Where do you go from here?
<br />
<br />
You take one breath at a time
<br />
Slowly, in AND out
<br />
Then you take another
<br />
And you let each breath heal you
<br />
<br />
You let go and let friends catch you
<br />
We won't let you down
<br />
We have strength enough to share
<br />
Now is when you take
<br />
<br />
Some of us have been where you are now
<br />
I have been there
<br />
To hell and back
<br />
I can give you the 10 cent tour
<br />
<br />
It took time
<br />
For me to understand
<br />
That I am loved
<br />
And lovable.
<br />
<br />
You, my dear friend, are loved
<br />
You are infinitely lovable too
<br />
This is just a shitty time
<br />
But time passes and this will too
<br />
<br />
We are here for you
<br />
I am here for you
<br />
If you don't think you can lean on us
<br />
We will pick your ass up and carry you
<br />
<br />
But if you make me carry you
<br />
Cause you know I will if I have to
<br />
After we get to the other side
<br />
I'll kick you in it.
<br />
<br />
Just one more promise
<br />
Along with the one where I promise
<br />
You will be okay
<br />
Because we will make sure of it
<br />
<br />
I promise.
<br />
I love you.
<br />
<br />
<br />
Sent from my iPhoneAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03929485857099153805noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26175600.post-28263811981802712792012-06-16T15:19:00.000-04:002012-06-16T15:19:06.900-04:00My Writing Doesn't SuckThere is stuff (written stuff) out there that sucks. There's lots of other stuff out there that sucks too but that's a different post. I'd never want to have to tell someone their words don't line up in such a way as to avoid suckage and I don't think I've ever met anyone that I would say that about. But I've read some pretty awful stuff a few times and heard of worse. <div>
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So, where do I get the balls to say that<i> MY</i> writing isn't crap? That's just it...having the balls, the confidence is a huge part of knowing that I can string words together in an at least passable way. Confidence is not something I wear well. I still feel uncomfortable in my confidence. Yeah, I know that doesn't really make sense. </div>
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I read a lot...usually other writers: prose and poetry. I usually think my work pales in comparison. My faults, as a writer, are many. My vocabulary, while above average, is nothing compared to so many. Logic and I have never been properly introduced. Oh, wait, a friend once did me the favor of making introductions, but we found we had nothing in common and after some small talk about the weather went our separate ways. My cat, who tends to fall off the bed at least once every few days because he forgets that he's laying at the edge, is more clever than I will ever be. And finally, I am ADD enabled and imagination impaired. </div>
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I swoon when I read works by other poets. Wishing I could use such imagery or build layers of subtlety into my work. Hell, some days I'd just like to have a point. </div>
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Yet, I'm saying I now know that my writing doesn't suck. I finally figured out, with the help of people telling me when something I've written has struck them in some way, and by going back and reading through my own words, that what I'm doing is okay. It's not the same as the things that make me swoon. And, that's okay too.</div>
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I often think my style is too abrupt, too angst-ridden, too simple. Now, I know it's just me. My writing can only ever be just me. I can see changes in my words from then to now. Sometimes I even see what I would call improvements in the changes. But now is not the time to judge. And, from whom would I get the standards from to do such judging? </div>
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I'm learning to put words down on a regular basis. To write. And to keep writing. I often tweet to Just. Keep. Writing. and I'm finally starting to take my own advice. Because writing isn't the kind of endeavor that has limits. Sure, there are guidelines for what to call groups of words of certain sizes (like novel, novella, novelette, and the ubiquitous Lowell that encompasses the fourth dimension of time as well); but beyond that, there are no rules... </div>
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Except that to be a writer you need to write. And, in understanding and practicing that, I am gaining confidence. The confidence to finally understand that what I'm doing is okay. And I just need to keep doing it...</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03929485857099153805noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26175600.post-22587023798730188742012-06-14T22:45:00.000-04:002012-06-14T22:47:46.064-04:00On BaseRemember when we were kids
<br>And a game of tag
<br>Was endless fun
<br>On a summer evening?
<br>
<br>The stately oaks that gave us shade
<br>Were put to use as bases too
<br>
<br>There were four
<br>Or was it five?
<br>Guarding the corners of our lawn
<br>With lots of running room between
<br>
<br>We would wait until whoever was 'It'
<br>Looked the other way
<br>And then sprint, as fast as our little legs could carry us
<br>To a different base
<br>
<br>A safe zone
<br>My heart pounding out of my chest
<br>Panting for air
<br>Triumphant.
<br>
<br>It was here that I regrouped
<br>Here I caught my breath
<br>
<br>I think of this game
<br>And that feeling of safety
<br>And security
<br>And catching my breath after taking a chance
<br>
<br>As I touch base with you
<br>After venturing out into the world
<br>Playing grown up games now
<br>Still needing time on base to breathe
<br>
<br>Sent from my iPhoneAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03929485857099153805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26175600.post-52884685617001015552012-06-09T21:00:00.001-04:002012-06-09T21:00:27.252-04:00JakeGiggle fits
<br>Silly looks
<br>Cheers and groans
<br>And high fives too
<br>
<br>Reading, singing
<br>Snuggling close
<br>I love this time
<br>With you
<br>
<br>
<br>Sent from my iPhoneAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03929485857099153805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26175600.post-63887115143591908312012-06-08T21:51:00.001-04:002012-06-08T21:51:35.466-04:00MessageLetters and symbols
<br>Lines and designs
<br>Absentmindedly traced across your skin
<br>My fingers writing forgotten words
<br>In the shadow of a shoulder-blade
<br>While I concentrate on your ear
<br>And delivering a message by lips
<br>The warmth of my breath the punctuation
<br>
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<br>Sent from my iPhoneAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03929485857099153805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26175600.post-55431263615806101472012-06-05T21:32:00.000-04:002012-06-05T21:33:03.366-04:00Moments of JoyThat sideways look
<br>As if I'm not supposed to see it
<br>The grin that follows
<br>And the gleam in your eyes
<br>
<br>A hug between friends
<br>Gentle yet strong
<br>Tender and warm
<br>Breathing in the scent of you
<br>
<br>Saying something stupid
<br>That immediately invokes a laugh
<br>Giggling about it for three days
<br>Or three years. Just because.
<br>
<br>Holding hands and hearts
<br>Dancing to a song only we can hear
<br>That moment of "A ha!"
<br>And the wonderment of you
<br>
<br>
<br>Sent from my iPhoneAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03929485857099153805noreply@blogger.com1