My newest adventure is underway. It has lead me to take up residency in a new blog,
Like the Feathers of an Arrow (affectionately known as LFA).

...don't open...don't throw away... is not disappearing completely (not yet),
but postings here will be limited.

Thursday, December 22, 2011

5 Winter Wardrobe

The festive garb she wore was not a declaration of her belief system. Strangely the wardrobe fit her personality whether or not it spoke of her own faith.  Her jovial demeanor and her contagious smile, though not intended to spreading holiday cheer, were simply embedded in who she was regardless of the season or her surroundings.  And while she could bring a smile to any heart, her reality brought out tears and compassion in truck loads.  For just one glimpse at the rumpled holiday sweater, the tattered skirts, and her overall disheveled appearance and smiling hearts bleed knowing she wears the gaudy atrocious-looking sweater just to keep warm.

what a crazy day yesterday turned into...but i suppose 'tis the season...anyway, i finally managed to get around to Three Word Wednesday [3WW=belief, festive, rumple(d)].  it took me awhile trying to veer away from using believe instead of belief, but i managed it in the end.

Wednesday, December 14, 2011

6 Plotting and Planning

The proximity of the voices rendered him immobile. They weren’t supposed to be there. He had planned things out so carefully, spent hours watching the house and days trailing their every move. He had even gone so far as to insinuate himself into their life to eliminate surprise just like this one. They spoke now in harsh whispers as though they thought the walls had ears—if only they really knew. The shuffling of their feet moving closer to his hiding spot caused the hairs on his arms and neck to stand on end. He did his best to quiet his breathing fearing the slightest intake of breath might give him away. He had been so focused on staying unnoticed he almost missed the tenor of the conversation. While he had come here to rob and pilfer, their words were a gem he could live off of for years. A smile pierced his lips as he pulled out his phone and began recording the discussion. Dollar signs flashed before his eyes as they spoke of retribution in the form of murder. When they finally left, he stepped out of his hiding spot and looked around contemplating leaving while the coast was clear. With a shrug he thought to himself, why not, and began to forage for valuables.

i decided once again to steer away from poetry for this week's Three Word Wednesday [3WW=>immobile, proximity, retribution].  i must admit, while i do it infrequently, i enjoy flexing my non-poetic muscles.

Monday, December 12, 2011

0 i should be stronger than superman by now...

She sat at the desk staring off into space. It was happening again. Something in her life had gone awry and it ate at her. She knew she had to talk to the person who’d set this roadblock. She had to make peace with it, if not fix it.

Unfortunately, there were things in life, which she could not deal with emotionally well. She clenched her teeth and widened her eyes to keep the tears at bay. The feeling that swelled inside her chest pushed and pulled at her muscles.

It’s not fair, she thought, normal people don’t feel like this. They don’t get so worked up. They don’t dread the idea of confrontation. It’s just not fair that she has to deal with this turmoil, this anxiety that surfaces whenever things seem to go uncontrollably wrong, to no fault of her own.

Air forced its way out of her mouth trying to expel the tension in her chest and shoulders. She rubbed her brow with her right hand and bit her lip contemplating the implications of how the future would be if she let it lie. What she foresaw was unhappiness and it hurt.

The will to move forward, to continue with daily activities, vanished. This war going on inside her was debilitating. The collision of the unwelcome future and the desire to mend it battled for control of her emotions.

Expelling another fit of air, she pushed all thoughts from her mind. There was no place for this war right now, maybe not ever. It was time to move forward. She needed to except that in life there were things beyond one’s control, times when one must learn to deal with being unhappy. A small mocking smile pierced her lips as her mind absorbed the idea, what doesn’t kill you, only makes you stronger.

Wednesday, December 7, 2011

3 intoxicating ride

She was tired of sitting back and watching, tired of being told what to do and when to speak, and tired of not being allowed to stretch her muscles, both physically and mentally. It seemed harsh and cruel that she was forced to suppress her natural instincts--all because she was born into this passive role. She itched to be free. The idea of controlling her own destiny was intoxicating, but still she understood the demands her title held. So try as she might, she could not bring herself to openly defy the expectations laid at her feet. Truthfully, there was only one pleasure she ever indulged in. When she felt her world begin to suffocate her, she steal herself away to the stables. Under cover of a night, draped in a cloak, she slips in amongst the horses until she found her mare. The first brush of her hand across the beautiful coat always brought a smile to her lips. There was an unspoken bond between the two. With one swift movement she’d find herself astride the majestic creature and they’d ride out towards the open fields. Then once the ground opened up in front of them, they would break into a full run. At that moment, when her hood flew off and the wind caught her hair so it billowed behind her like a flag, she felt free.

i find myself with this week's Three Word Wednesday [3WW=>flag, might, passive] once again exploring prose--short and brief, but still pushing myself outside of the poetic thoughts i seem to get sucked into.

Monday, December 5, 2011

0 dreams and wishes

last night as i lay in bed i found myself once again pondering the idea of happiness.  [i just typed 'happy' into the search area for my posts and found 28 results.]  anyway, i wrote a post awhile back where i tried to wrapped my mind around "happiness is a mood not a destination."  i'm not sure if i had heard that or saw it or if it too had been part of some late night ponderings that inevitably found its way here.  regardless it skirted my thoughts last night...

there is something about this season that feels like a time of dreams and wishes...a time were anything is possible.  [truth be told, i think i just watch too many Lifetime and Hallmark movies.]  so last night my brain got to thinking about being happy.  [i'll abbreviate the discussion i had in my head...mainly 'cause it can be quite hard to follow may train of thought as i jump from idea to idea, which i'm sure those of who actually read my ramblings probably already know.]  in short happiness is a state of being that fluxuates from happy to sad...i mean can you really have one without the other.  it was about at that moment, with the fluxuation concept, that i realized what my real problem is.  it's not being happy so much as being balanced...i don't fluxuate. 

so what do i wish for...dream of...
more importantly how do i obtain long do i wait for it to find me...when will stop dreaming and wishing and start being...

as far as i'm concerned, that way too many questions. 

Monday, November 28, 2011

0 writing prose...

i've been trying to find my way back into writing prose. my last attempt was almost a month ago. prior to that, i hadn't written anything prose-like since May. i really just don't seem to have the stamina for writing prose. worst part is, i end up leaving stories open: The Test, Serendipitous, in the stacks, and With Just a Touch. most i have barely made a dent in...simply ideas that i have started to put down. the problem is the longer the piece turns out to be the less likely i will be to complete it. i know this, but maybe that is part of the problem. that and the fact that once it's over, it's over. of all the stories i've started, With Just a Touch definitely holds a special place. i know exactly how it is going to end and i am so close to that ending. i just for some reason can't bring myself back to it.

part of me feels too much time has passed and my voice may no longer be the same (unlikely but it doesn't stop me from thinking it). part of me is hung up on just thinking about how the story will end...the longer i take to write it down, the longer it has to breathe life into me...allowing me to replay the final scenes over and over...and yes, i could do that after writing it, but it is not the same...once written i'm committed to it. i don't know.

i'm not incapable of writing longer pieces. i've proved that in the past. i just don't really have the motivation or temperance for doing so. (or maybe that is just an excuse i like to use for being lazy.) who knows...

so the big question is where does that leave me now?

Tuesday, November 22, 2011

7 teardrop (part 2)

Carnation Tear
(image by rmp, that's me)
[poster artwork "Teardrop" by Paul Hogg]

back in March, i posted one of my short ramblings around a poster i have had for about 20 years.  this poster has always facinated me.  before writing the post, i tried to do a little research to see if (a) i could find this poster somewhere still for sale or (b) find more by Paul Hogg.  my attempts were fruitless. 

since my original post, i have found the number of people searching Paul Hogg and this poster to be quite interesting.  the post has quickly made its way into my top five posts.  one of the more recent comments on the post mentioned that this poster may have been part of a set.  this of course renewed my interest in once again taking up the search.  and while it only took me a couple of hours after reading the comment to find the answer, it has taken me slightly longer to share that answer here.

while i cannot say how many posters were in this collection, i did manage to find another on ebay (in a long expired auction).  is she the exact same woman?  i cannot say.  but she is unmistakably belongs along side 'Teardrop'.

"Careless Whispers" by Paul Hogg

Up Close
"Careless Whispers" by Paul Hogg

Saturday, November 5, 2011

0 personal stenographer

if only there were a little chip in my head that could take my internal ramblings (especially those that seem to plague me while driving) and write them down.  so many thoughts run though my head about things i'd like to write and say, but they rarely seem to linger with me long enough to write or by the time i the chance does come along my motivation to do anything other than mindless things (listen to music, watch tv, star off into space).  there is also that fact that by the time i do get the chance to sit down and write my parnoid/self-depricating self has had time to whisper discouraging thoughts of how what i wish to say is pointless and no one really would care to read my insane ramblings. 

i suppose it really doesn't matter.  the chip in the head probably would end up being more trouble than it is worth. 

Monday, October 31, 2011

0 coincidences

I'm not sure how it works exactly.  I've tried puzzling it through a time or two, but have yet to draw any definitive answers.  At first I thought nothing of it.  Why would I?  It wasn't until I came across the article in the paper that the first tickle of oddity crept up.  There were so many details that matched.  Still one main piece was incorrect.  The photo in the paper looked nothing as I had dreamed.  After a couple more coincidental news episodes, I finally started to realize that there was way more to my dreams than I could have imagined.  So, I have decided to starting documenting my dreams and where necessary the real life happenings that coincide with it.  Maybe it's all in my head.  Maybe these coincidences are just that, coincidences.  Maybe I need to watch less television and stop reading the newspaper.  Maybe...I'm simply crazy.  What ever the case may be, I intend to figure out what exactly is going on.

Melissa closed the journal and sighed.  Her eyes looked from the beautifully bound red leather journal to the newspaper lying beside her right arm.  Nothing about the person in the picture looked familiar except for the smile.  Three nights ago she remembered looking into a mirror and delicately painting those exact lips luscious pink.  It was not unusual for her to dream as though she were someone else.  She could hardly remember a time where she was herself in a dream.  Her fingers traced over the lips jogging the feeling of excitement and anticipation she had felt in the dream.  She shook her head firmly and pushed herself back and up out of the chair.  "I'm not going there," she said to herself.  "Not again."

Saturday, August 6, 2011

0 i feel stupid...

every once and awhile, i wonder how effective my education was. i vaguely remember getting basic skills in mathematics when i was younger (and i still have issues with basic math...not too big of a deal when you consider i can solve a system of equations in three variables or find the roots to a polynomial expression where all but two roots are rational). where am i going with this...well, i have absolutely no memory of every receiving basic skills (what they tend to call 'instructional support' now a days) and if i'm being completely honest, my reading comprehension skills leave much to be desired. to truly comprehend something, i have to read word for word (most people read in chucks) and if i'm lucky i only have to read it two or three times the gist of what's being said. again, where am i going with this you might wonder...

i (if you haven't noticed) enjoy writing poetry. the trouble comes with the fact that i also enjoy reading it. so for someone who has issues reading and understanding things written in complete sentences, image what it is like when they're only fragments of thoughts strewn together to express a concept or idea. i find myself more times than not reading someone else's work and totally confused. i'll read it twice or thrice; i'll read through the comments left to see if i can glean something from the words of others; if i'm lucky those tactics will be enough. but sometimes i am left feeling as the title of this post states, 'stupid'. one might think not understanding a poem is no big deal...i mean really how many people in out there have an appreciation for poetry the way they enjoy non-fiction or mysteries or romances or science-fiction?

well, (1) I don't like feeling stupid, (2) i don't like feeling stupid about something i enjoy, and (3) how am i supposed to grow and learn as a poet if i have this block. Also (i suppose this could be called 4) i ready feel the pressures of social anxiety through my online endevours and i do my best (as i also do in the real world) to fight this by visiting other's blogs and leaving comments, but this problem of mind only works to heighten my anxiety--making me want to crawl back into my little hiding spot and disappear forever.

i think that's enough insight into my psyche for now...

Wednesday, August 3, 2011

6 Treading Tears

Treading Tears

This salty ocean threatens to consume
where ripples of emotions build to crests
untamed and wild at times, then soft and mild.
I find myself forever treading waves
forever lost within this tempest's snare.
I long for your embrace to hold me safe
to soothe the raging waters deep within
to quiet suffocating thoughts and fears.

I long for you as always, but today
as into burning flames I stare with tears,
Poseidon's stormy wrath is fierce and strong.
The lights do flicker with another year
of celebration passing by once more.
Where previously both our names did ring,
I stand alone my lips remaining still.

Your hug is all I wish for with this breath
a hopeless wish, but still I cling to it,
my life vest filled with fading memories.
This salty ocean threatens to consume
as I do try to tread these silent tears.

my intent was blank verse (partially because i wasn't in the mood for rhyming, but) mainly i figured having to conform to a structure would help me from living the title of this poem. i'm filling a little iffy on the blank verse (particularly with 'life vest'), but i've decided not to over-'stress' myself this time with trying for perfection. the form served its purpose for me well enough.

inspiration for this piece came in part from dVerse~Poets Pub Poetics--The Watering Hole (hosted by Sheila Moore), which i unfortunately missed. and in part by this evening's impending song, which i had thought to end this poem with (a tricky one to write in iambic pentameter--had to break words over multiple lines), but its inclusion would defeat the purpose of choosing to use a form for this poem.

this is my contribution for tonight's OpenLinkNight over at dVerse~Poets Pub where a vast offering of talent writers come to share their love of poetry.

Saturday, July 30, 2011

0 back...but not running at 100%

i have not quite been myself since returning from my self-imposed exile from my online self.  i most definitely have abandoned the blog rules is set for ...don't open...don't throw away...  as a means to keep myself in check.  they were meant to be a form of motivation and i think in the beginning they worked well.  even at the one year mark, they were holding strong.  but they don't seem to provide the same push as they once did. 

maybe it's not fact, it is probably not them, but me.  i thought maybe to blame summer and the lack of routine that it brings about, but that would be a farce.  (i really just wanted to use the word farce...i mean when am i ever really going to use the word farce.  it is an interesting word...not one i hear that often.)  i could use writer's block as an excuse, but really i don't feel blocked...just uninspired and uncaring.

i'm scared to abandon my rules completely.  outside of the month of June, i've managed to maintain a descent number of posts even if i break the 'rules' in the process.  it's just if i completely forgo the 'rules' i fear ...don't open...don't throw away... will soon see its final days.

my purpose for starting this blog has not changed.  my need to keep this part of myself alive is essential.  i just wish i could figure out a way to do that while removing the pressure and anxiety that has erupted when i truly opened myself up to the blogging world just under a year ago.  maybe i should have kept ...don't open...don't throw away... under the radar.  but there is definitely something to be said for knowing that there are people out there who for some crazy reason think you have something worth reading. 

i don't know.  i guess only time will tell.  for now, i will forgive my disregard of the 'rules'.  and revisit things when September rolls around and summer comes to an end. 

Monday, July 4, 2011

6 Echos of Silence

one day
             my silence
                             will echo

it will start as a whisper
of something forgotten
as you walk into a room
and look about
for what?
you can't remember
it will nag at you
until you shake off the whisper
it will eventually come back to you

it will grow to a soft hum
of a once heard song
that lingers at the edge
of your mind
you can feel the notes clash
refusing to take form
it will tickle your senses
until you push away the hum
into the recesses of your mind

one day
             my silence 
                             will echo

it will build within you to a shout
that whisper
that hum
will finally take shape
into words long ago read
and you'll be drawn
to rediscover them
as you begin to search for me
the nagging whisper will return
as you find my lost words
the tickling hum will resurface
it is then
that my silence will be so profound
it will echo deep within your mind

one day
             my silence 
                             will echo

of this i have no doubt
for there is no room 
for doubt
it is not something i can afford
my words have power
these are things i cannot afford to loose
they are at my very core
without them i am nothing
and so i cling to the idea 

one day
             my silence 
                             will echo

a One Stop Poetry--One Shot Wednesday offering.

Tuesday, June 21, 2011

1 hiding? why?

quite some time ago, i wrote six words as part of a poem.  i have revisited them within this blog on at least four other occasions. they are deeply embedded into every key i press...every word i write...every single hesitation i take when hitting the 'publish post' button.  

"social anxiety follows me into cyberspace."

so, while i'm usually relatively good at coping with said anxiety, balancing it in both my 'real' world and my 'cyber' world has become quite a challenge.  it seems odd to me that this fear...this paranoia...this anxiety could find its way into a world where one can exist with such anonymity...where one can reinvent themselves...where one can let down their walls.  

but this fear is not built around anonymity.  it centers on judgement...on the thoughts and views of others...on the mere idea of exposing oneself to being evaluated negatively in a social arena.  and here i am exposed far more than i am in my 'real' world.

i hold my breath every time i hit the button to post.  i cringe every time i read over my own words and know that there is someone out there reading them as well.  i close my eyes to the deafening silence to hold back the tears that long to rush forth.  

i needed a reprieve.  i needed to wash myself of the constant buzzing in my ear that drew me time and time again back to the torture.  i needed to breathe.  going into hiding...condemning myself to a self-imposed exile...getting in touch with my far too neglected and practically nonexistent happy side...was the only way i could think to calm the paranoid rhetoric running rampant through my head.  

my nerves have settled a mind has tuned the station to a more relaxing sound...

so am i back?  i'm not sure...i'm taking it slow and still finding some me time in my little hideaway.  

Friday, May 27, 2011

1 photo array

Blushing Bloom
(image by rmp, that's me)

this is my attempt to make up for slacking on the fifth rule for this blog, "Must include at least one image per week within a post."  so i walked around and snapped a photo or two or three or...

(image by rmp, that's me)

this watering can is like me...empty, abandoned, and alone...but pretty in pink!

Follow the Leader
(image by rmp, that's me)

the bottom of each of these turtles has a name on in it.  one for each of my nieces and nephews.  i wonder who the leader is?

Silent Roar
(image by rmp, that's me)

i should have turned the fountain on before snapping this image.  my dad always wanted a pair of lion statues to sit on either side of the drive...but the driveway's U-shaped and four would be over kill (ha ha...kill...).  then we thought maybe on either side of the walkway leading to the front of the house, but it is kind of narrow and the lions would have been too big for the space.  i thought he'd never get his lions...but as you can see i was wrong.

Safely Tucked In
(image by rmp, that's me)

i love the way this little tree drapes over the flowers...almost like it is sheltering them...gathering the close in its arms and keeping them safe.

Sprinkled in Pinks
(image by rmp, that's me)

i admit...when it comes to flowers...i have a thing for pink.  i can appreciate flowers in general, but pinks (and purples) have a way of bringing a smile to my face...brightening my day...lifting my spirits...touching my heart....

Dopey Grin
(image by rmp, that's me)
he's always been my favorite of the seven.  the goofiness...the lack of verbal communication...the over sized clothes...that broad grin.  sometimes i wonder what it would be like to not have to communicate through gestures and expressions.  it would probably get frustrating after awhile.  i admit that in the past when the incessant talking of my students was too much to handle, i'd go into mute mode.  it is amazing how their focus changes and their questions become more direct and inquisitive.  luckily math is a relatively easy subject to do that with.

Tuesday, May 24, 2011

0 scheme of things

it seems after a month of forgoing my blog rules (took off the month of April to post a poem a day)...i am having trouble getting back into the scheme of things.  i believe the only rule that has actually suffered is the "must include at least one image per week within a post."  i have missed the past three weeks...  overall quantity (not necessarily quality) has also taken a small dip from what it was prior to April.  i suppose i could just be working on getting my groove back. 

i'm also thinking about returning to my roots (pencil and paper).  in light of this, i think i may have to adjust rule #4 slightly...i'll have to think on that for a bit.

Wednesday, May 18, 2011

7 lost to the world

She stared entranced at the skid marks.  The world around her faded into a fog as though the waves of heat permeating from the damp asphalt was creating a wall around her and the chaos around her.  Lights flashed red and blue.  Their strobing rhythm only enhanced her trance.  All the sound surrounding her seemed muffled.  The man pacing back and forth like a mad man throwing and throwing his arms up in the air was screaming profanities at the officers that were trying to reel him in.  But his voice barely registered.  The child wailing and chocking on his tears just touched the edge of her mind though it sounded like it were miles away.  Along with the officers, there were other men in uniform running about.  They called to each other, yelling directions and asking for things.  So much noise and all she seemed to notice was the skid marks.  She couldn't understand why she was so incensed by them.  It nagged at her, like somewhere in the recesses of her mind the answer was there.

The sound of metal grinding, vibrating, crackling, and twisting slowly began to break through  her trance.  The loud obnoxious noise was almost deafening.  Finally she broke stare with the two thick black lines that appeared to have bled from the pavement and turned toward the sound.  She found herself moving.  The pull of the sound was intense.  As she approached the large blue metal object that was bent and twisted into something that no longer resembling the car it once was, she tried to peer into the vehicle.  The empty car seat in the pang brought on a pang of fear and terror, but obnoxious noise of the large metal wrench that was prying open the driver's door yelled for her attention.  She looked back and watched as the firemen finally peeled open the door.  Stepping forward, she looked inside at the driver.  Blood trickled from a gash across the driver's brow down into her eyes.  Instinctively, without thought for herself or those around her, she reached in to wipe the blood away.  The moment her fingers touch the warm damp surface, the world around her erupted to life--full blown and loud.  At that moment, the firemen gave a sigh of relief as the driver for the first time opened her eyes.  Suddenly the world came back into view and she found herself gazing past the fireman toward the two black parallel lines that marred the pavement from the driver's seat of her car.

it feels like an eternity since i last wrote a story (as opposed to a poem)...a month and one day to be precise, but 3 months and 9 days since last i wrote one for Three Word Wednesday [3WW=>damp, incensed, skid]. it feels kind of nice to be exercising those brain muscles once again.

Saturday, May 7, 2011

2 sea of smileys

Sea of Smileys
(image by rmp, that's me)
Aug. 7, 2010 - hit post number 100 - "My One Hundred Post (Technically 97)"
Jan. 9 2011 - celebrated one year - "the past... the future..."
Feb. 2, 2011 - hit post number 200 - "Tinker"
May 7, 2011 - hit post number 300 - "sea of smileys"

I celebrated my 100th post by writings a pantoum.  I completely ignored my 200th post...well, not ignored really...just let it pass without acknowledgement.  I did celebrate one year awhile back.  That i did not allow to go unacknowledged.

so here i am typing away at my 300th post.  i'm not really sure why this should be an important post...i suppose it's because it's ends in zero...and we like to think of things ending in zero (or multiples of 25...of which 300 is both) as something special...a milestone...they even make special cards for birthdays and anniversaries...of course they don't go nearly as high as 300.  when do you think the greeting card company will catch up to the cyber-celebrations.  "Yeah, you just got your 1,000th follower...keep tweeting."  "Congrats on hitting 300 posts!"  "Do you really have 5,000 friends...didn't anyone tell you you can deny a friend request?"

anyway...i celebrate today with a "Sea of Smileys" cheering me on.

i couldn't help myself...i had to do a bit of math...
7 months (give or take two days) to hit 100
6 months (give or take five days) to hit 200
3 months (give or take five days) to hit 300
100 in 3 wonder i'm feeling wonder my old friends, paper and pencil, are calling my name again...

Saturday, April 30, 2011

1 month of poeming--reflection

today is the 30th and final day of National Poetry Month, as well as the last day of a ruleless (or single rule ruled) posting. i technically still have my last poem to write, but i thought i'd take a moment to reflect on the past month...

being a math person, we'll start with the numbers...

Total # of poems posted here over the past month = 37

Inspiration Count:
Poetic Asides = 15
Three Word Wednesday = 5
Jingle Poetry = 3
OSP (Form Monday) = 3
OSP (One Shot Wednesday) = 3
OSP (Friday Poetically) = 1
OSP (One Shoot Sunday)= 4
Uninspired Count = 9

(for those of you who can add, five poems overlap in the inspiration count)

Poetic Forms Toyed With Count:
oddquain = 1
clarity pyramid = 1
etheree = 1
blitz = 1
shadorma = 3 (though technically one probably shouldn't count 'cause it is backwards)
septolet = 1
wrapped refrain = 2
sedoka = 1
my own created form = 1
(again for those who can add, the total falls below the total, 'cause i'm partial to free verse)

now that the counts are has been an exhausting month. thankfully, there was no shortage of inspiration (that of others or my own)...of course i still have one more poem to go...

though this is not a typical batch, i thought this a good time to also share the seven tweetoetries that were produced over the course of this month. (i'll repost them appropriately in the next 'batch' with the correct number and their yet to be decided titles.)

#a (septolet)

your whispering
awakens me

i melt
into the delicious flavor
of your kiss


words dance across my tongue
drawing you in
with the slow seductive curve of my lips
as they dance to the rhythm of my heart

#c (septolet)

dry eyes
with unshed tears

revolting tears
stage a coup
raging emotions


in a world
I did not ask for
how do I find my way back
back into nonexistence
where I can be free
to at last

#e (haiku)

shades of white--pink hues
spring buds on long dormant limbs
opening my soul

#f (haiku)

pink teardrops descend
pooling beneath weeping trees/
nourishing new life

#g (tanka)

I wish that I knew
how to be on the inside
a part of the world
I'm always on the outskirts
a hell of my own making

well....that's all for now. time to start thinking about today's poem...

Wednesday, April 20, 2011

3 i need the dough

i knead the dough
just as i had watched you do
all those many times ago
i infuse the dough
it with every emotion
i have bottled up
i have salted the dough
with my tears
in the hopes
of cleansing myself
the pain this day dredges up
the last thing i wish
is celebrate this day
our day
yours and mine
the one you suffered for
all those years ago
just so that we might share
this day
you and me
i knead the dough
wishing these hands were yours
instead of mine

in case your wondering, pizza.  

inspiration for this too salty treat comes from Three Word Wednesday [3WW=>cleanse(-e+ing), knead, melt(ing)].  

Friday, April 8, 2011

1 poeming update...

it's day 8...and no i have yet to write today's poem...but i have managed over the previous seven days to write at least one poem a day.  in fact, on more than half those seven days, i have written two poems every day...that doesn't include the two tweetoetries i wrote on day 5.  All of them have been (one way or another) in response to prompts from my "When the Gloves Come Off.." list located in the right side bar (toward the bottom).  looking back over the past three months, i noticed that only eight times did i write a poem that was not (in one way or another) a response to a prompt.  that would be eight out of approximately 60 poems.  that equals approximately 13%.  i'm not sure if that is a bad thing or a good thing.  the prompts make me look beyond myself and i enjoy writing them (even when the ideas don't flow right away and let things stew awhile).  and it's not like i lost myself at all; i'm hidden within the words of each poem. 

i don't know.  maybe i just feel lost today and this was something tangible that i could grab onto (like a tree in the forest) until i'm found again.  i still have to write today's poem, but my mood is not very welcoming at the moment.  there are two prompts today that could help get the creative juices flowing, but i just can't seem to dredge up the energy to get enthused by either today.  but the day is not over...and i have no intentions of missing a we'll just have to wait and see...

Tuesday, April 5, 2011

2 etched on my heart

like a photograph
your image is etched on my heart
that last breathing memory
holds fresh and raw
at times
i wish i could scrape it away
burn away the glisten trails
that grace my cheeks
and then
there are times
i wish i could be transported
back to that moment
wrap my arms around it
and never let go

that's all the tears that blur my vision will allow me to heart feels there is still more to be said, but it's too tongue-tied at the moment.

created in response to Jingle Poetry's Poetry Potluck [photographs, memories, and nostalgia]...(i'm arriving a little late to the party, but i'm sure no one will mind too much.)

Thursday, March 31, 2011

1 a ruleless month...well not exactly...

along with being the first day of April (better known to most as April Fool’s Day when the tricksters come out to play and show that just about anyone can be made a fool of), it is also the start of National Poetry Month. in honor of this, i have decided to forgo the rules i set forth on this blog (which i use to keep me in check and help me keep the creative juices flowing) for the month of April and enact a single temporary rule.
  • Write a Poem a Day
yeah, i know crazy...but i also know i'm not the only crazy one out there...some are this crazy year round...or more so...but what can i say i like crazy...

in my head, this idea seems a bit nerve racking and anxiety inducing and stressful and...what other words can i use to say the exact same thing over and over and over again...  nonetheless, i am going to give it a go.  i will continue to seek inspiration during this time from Three Word Wednesday, OSP One Shoot Sunday, OSP Form Monday, JP's Poetry Potluck, and Poetic Asides.  i do fear that i will find myself a bit overwhelmed with keeping up with all of theses on a regular basis and with visiting and commenting on others posts...still i will do my best to visit and comment at least once a week (usually i set aside Tuesday and Thursday for this--though often i find myself wondering on other days as well). 

note:  forgoing my rules does not mean that i won't occasional throw out a rambling or prose, but it removes the pressure of having to do so on top of this daunting task (at least it seems daunting to me).

wish me luck!  i have a feeling i'm going to need it...

Friday, March 25, 2011

14 teardrop

Carnation Tear
(photo by rmp, that's me)
[poster artwork
"Teardrop" by Paul Hogg]
i have been infatuated with this poster since first i laid eyes on it.  i can't say what draws me so, but it has graced my walls for years now.  you can see the lines of crinkles from where she has been rolled up for transport from one residence to another.

maybe it's the tear that is just escaping from the corner of her eye--for i live my life with tears perpetually threatening the corners of my eyes.  maybe it's the soft hues mixed with the vibrant red--there's something ethereal about her.  whatever it might be that seduces me i don't really know, but i have found myself many times over (often when in sullen moods) staring at her.

i wonder what she's thinking...i wonder if she's looking at something specific or staring off into space...i wonder if her tear is one of joy or sorrow...i wonder how long she will plague me...

Saturday, March 19, 2011

0 haunting...

i'm not sure what possessed me when i thought including an image per week was a good idea--at least not when i was the one taking the photo.  i am no photographer, far from it.  i just point and shoot and mostly delete (love the power of digital photographs).  so aside from the one week i missed, i have been laboring over images i've taken in the past to find ones that were semi-decent.  and low and behold, as i rush to get one up before the week is out and i miss yet another week, i review my rule and realize it says nothing about the image being my own.  which technically means i'm free and clear because i already have two up this week.  but i'm certain, if i look back through my posts (some time in January or February) i'll find the one that talks about my new rule and that the images must be by none other than me to count.  i suppose this means i should update the rule so i can't use its lack of clarity as an excuse later on.

normally, i embed my images as small as they go.  but today, i decided to keep it a bit bigger so as to see if you see what i see.  (i almost feel like i'm in the eye doctor's office and they're asking me what number i see.)

a bit of background...someone mentioned that the moon tonight was extra special, not because it is a full moon, but apparently it is a super moon...the biggest it has been in 20 years.  now if i was a photographer, i might be able to capture this lovely moon in all of its glory so that it looks like a moon instead of tiny ball of light in the midst of blackness.  the only have way decent picture i got was probably because the view was obstructed, which probably altered the camera focus or whatnot (i mentioned i am far from being a photographer).  in the end, it looked a bit spooky and kind of cool.

Super Moonlit Branches
(image by rmp, that's me)

Thursday, March 17, 2011

3 about him

The silence permeated the air between them growing thick and heavy on her mind.  She raised the coffee cup slowly to her lips trying not to focus on his presence there beside her.  Leisurely she took a sip, breathing in the intoxicating aroma of the delicious beverage and savoring these few moments of reprieve.  Her indecisiveness was moot.  Lowering the cup, she fortified herself and turned in her seat to better face him.  His head turned in her direction, lips kissing his own coffee cup, and she couldn't stop herself from wondering what that kiss might feel like on her own lips.

She pushed the thought quickly from her mind with a huff of a sigh.  "Tell me about yourself," she inquired in a matter of fact tone.

James slowly smiled at her over the mouth of the cup and again her thoughts turned back to how those lips might taste.  She pulled her gaze away from his mouth fearful that he might be able to read her thoughts.  "What do you want to know?"

She sighed loudly and shook her head.  "I don't know.  Anything.  Everything.  I feel like all of our encounters have involved you badgered me with questions.  All I really know about you is what I gleaned from having dinner with you and your friends.  And that really wasn't much."

His left brow turned inward and his mouth curved on the left into a intoxicating grin.  He broke into a full smile with a soundless laugh just before he opened his mouth to speak.  "Badgered?"

Jaycie could not help but return his smile.  "Yes," she began with a lightheartedness to her voice.  "Badgered.  I made it perfectly clear that I was not particularly comfortable or good at the whole small talk, getting to know you conversation. And you proceeded to ask question after question until I was fully exhausted.  So, I think badgered is a perfect term."

Silence lingered in the car as his gazed stared her down.  Then he shrugged, smiled and nodded.  "Okay, I'll give that to you."  He looked out of the front windshield and took another drink of his coffee.  Jaycie followed suit afraid of where her thoughts would take her if she continued to watch him.  "So, where to begin?"  Jaycie adjusted her position turning more toward James and schooching a little so that she could comfortable rest her head on the back of her chair while she faced him.

He smiled.  "Comfy?" She nodded her response.  "Good."  James adjusted himself slightly in his seat to match her.  "I'm 32.  Born and bread right here.  I have two brothers and one sister.  I am number three.  In high school I was an oxymoron.  A smart jock."  She hid her smile behind a sip of coffee.  "I graduated magna cum laude from NYU and was hired right out of college and spent the next six years making a name for myself on Wall Street."  He paused to take a sip of his coffee.  As he lowered the cup he inquired, "is that what you're looking for."

"It's a beginning," was her response.  "So, what happened next?  Why'd you leave Wall Street?"

The silence again seemed to grow heavy between them as he studied her face.  As his gaze lingered on her lips, she itched to skin to skin and discover what thoughts were running through his head.  He sighed and shook his head.  "I quit."

Saturday, March 12, 2011

0 social-less soul

Many Masks of Me
(image by rmp, that's me)
i lack social graces...or maybe i should say 'a social nature'.  as part of a workshop i took several test meant to evaluate what type of person you are...personality, multiple intelligences, brain dominance...what did i discover?  i'm an introvert (wouldn't take a rocket scientist to figure that one out), i'm self-smart and not people smart, and my right brain has staged a rebellion recently and now holds supreme.

where was i...yes, i lack social graces.  i attended a party last night and wanted to go home long before i got there.  aside from hellos and goodbyes, i may have spoken to three adults.  for the most part i kept to the rooms void of adults and the potential need for carrying on a conversation.

did i mention i lack social graces?  okay so truth be told, it is more than lacking social graces.  i have fears and other issues that impede my social self.  which is funny really when most people who know me would say i am quite social.  and they're not wrong, for when cornered like a trapped animal i through out my faux personality like my bearded dragons puff out their darkened beards to make themselves look bigger and scare off predators.

so where am i going with this anyway?  well, i have now been a member of twitter for almost two months.  and in case you are unaware, twitter is a social type network.  that of course was not why i joined.  far from it in fact.  i was looking for a quick (and shorter) medium to explore my newest blogs newest category, pom seeds.  it took me all of seven days to utilize it to construct short (tweetable) poems.  four days ago i expanded even further to include some ramblings (yet another blog category).

in the between time, i've picked up five followers!  (yes, that is an exclamation point, because i still find it odd that people would actually choose to follow the odd ramblings and thoughts that find there way out of my head and into cyberspace.  one would think having blog followers would have desensitized me by now, but alas it has not. and on a side note, while i may find it unfathomable, i do greatly appreciate your visits and words of encouragement.)  where was i...ah, yes...i have followers!  still my anxiety at hitting that little follow button has control of my clicking finger.  so i use subterfuge (not sure that's the right word, but i like the sound of it) to follow them; i created a list and added them to the list, plus a few others i've come across who use twitter to express their poetic nature.

where am i going with all this?  i feel like i had a point at the start, but have lost it along the way.  hmmm...i suppose the whole point was i was thinking about being social via twitter, which is a foreign concept on two levels.  one i'm new to the whole twitter thing; two i'm not very apt at the social thing.  my other problem is that (did i mention i have issues) i have a very strong focus on the manner in which i want (or should say need...really sucks having issues) to use my twitter account.  so i thought maybe for the sake of being social i'd get myself a second account that would not clutter up my pom seeds, tweetoetry and ramblings with social conversations.  (does saying clutter sound like a bad thing?  it is not intended to, not at all.)  this definitely sounds like a viable solution.  but did i mention, i lack a social soul?

Wednesday, March 9, 2011


i'm tired...

not physically (though i am that as well), but emotionally...

i can't handle this obsession that is starting to set in...these hopes and this anticipation that is met more often than not with disappointment.  i wrote for my own pleasure...only caring about there is this whole new world out there that once again throws me into a world of judgment...

part of me wants to just make this blog disappear into the it is no more...  to once again pickup paper and pencil where the only eyes i need worry about are my own...

it is so hard to ignore the irrational part of my brain...yet still i do.  i still wonder what i'd be like if the left hemisphere of my brain were not so balanced with the right.  i've talked before about my warring hemispheres (i like that, 'warring hemispheres'...i think there might be a poem in there) and my theory that my left-brain grew as a defense mechanism.  but still...this battle is tiring...

and as much as i want to give in...let go...crawl away and disappear myself in the ether...i will continue...

maybe one day i'll find peace...

Friday, March 4, 2011

10 Tanka: Pink Rain

Pink Blooms
(image by rmp, that's me)

magnolia's first bloom
brings sweet memories of you
Pink Dusted Boughs
(image by rmp, that's me)
with gorgeous pink hues
too soon petals fall like tears
purging pain to grow anew

Visions of Pink
(image by rmp, that's me)

beneath lovely boughs
dusted with gorgeous pink hues
i watch it rain
flurries of petals drift down
like scattered visions of you

my favorite part about spring is those few weeks were the trees are dusted in hues of pinks, whites, and purples.  i'm not sure what it is about them, but my heart sighs at the sight of those lovely branches.  For One Stop Poetry's Friday Poetically, we were ask to melt away the last bits of snow that coat our thoughts and think of spring.  in doing so, i found myself think of those blossoming trees and one in particular that haunts my mind.  thus you may find there are whispers of sorrow in these two pieces, but a bit of hope too i'd like to think.

Monday, February 28, 2011

1 from deep within

i wish i knew where it came from...or at least knew the trigger...

how do i go from smiles to tears in the blink of an eye?  how do i go from a calm soothing state to a tempestuous storm in the flash of a nanosecond?

i fear knowing the answers won't really help.  sure there would be some peace in knowing, but knowing doesn't necessarily change the turmoil that lies buried deep within me from surfacing out of the blue.

maybe i need to work on the power of positive thinking and happy thoughts.  maybe i need to ride out the storm and hope the next will stay at bay for about wishful thinking.

Saturday, February 19, 2011

2 Poetic Journey

Plastic Sleeve of Words
(image by rmp, that's me)
i remember a small grey notebook of sorts.  it contained four or five original drawings (i use that term loosely 'cause i'm not much of a drawer) at the top of grey paper accompanied by a poem beneath.  i'm not sure whatever happened to those first non-school-inspired creations.  the notebook disappeared long ago.  that was probably during my upper elementary or early middle school years.

Self-Published -- Print Run of One
(image by rmp, that's me)
my next memories take me to high school.  that's when i started keeping a better hold on my poetic endeavors.  (i still have them tucked away in a plastic sleeve protector--some handwritten originals--some typed originals.)  i wrote a total of three poems my freshman year; ten my sophomore year; eighteen my junior year; and nineteen my senior year.  i immortalized the final pieces first in a notebook that i kept with me at all times throughout high school.  then, eventually i typed up a copy that i entitled 'The Mind'.  (i remember typing it up on my brother's mac, which seems kind of funny to me now since he is completely a windows guy now.)  when the time came to edit 'The Mind' and the original disk wouldn't open on a windows computer, so i found myself retyping it and retitling it 'The Works'.  [this journey may take awhile...feel free to skip to the bottom and check out the three poems that started it all.]

Mind, Body, & Soul
(image by rmp, that's me)
i continued to write in college.  by the end of freshman year, i found a new way of sharing my works.  i'd pass the time between classes by sneaking into the computer lab and sending out a mass email to a group i dubbed 'Poetry List'.  (this would be before blogs.)  the first one i sent out, the one that started the mass email altogether was 'Thoughts'.  i remember one of my friends emailing me back all concerned because he feared i was depressed.  not that he was wrong (been suffering from depression for as long as i can remember)...not that i blame him (the poem did portray an image of drowning with a great struggle to break through the surface)...but the poem truly was about its title; it describe the feeling of being bombarded with thoughts and ideas that refused to form of semblance, but eventually they collide and you break through the murky water of  thoughts to a breath-taking idea.  as college came and went, i revisited my collection once again; after writing 'The Mind' and then 'The Works' (which i perceived to be 'The Body'), i revamped once again and create a collection that retains its name and continues to grow, 'The Soul'.
Cover Art
(image by rmp, that's me)

with college over and my 'adult' life beginning, i continued to write, but in more sporadic bursts.  it was at this stage in my life that i began to put things together with purpose and expand my writing.  having never had any patience for writing stories longer than ten pages or so, i took an idea i thought might make a good script (didn't know the first thing about writing a script) and entertained the idea of writing a novel for a sliver of a moment.  in the end, i decided to stick with what i knew best and wrote my first (and only) chapbook of poetry called 'Three Hearts Betrayed'.  strangely enough, just about six months later i began writing my first novel (though it might classified more as a novelette), while also writing a book-length collection of poems.  it took me longer to write the collection, 'Teacher's Insomnia' than the book, 'Herstory: man's plight for equality'.  since i've written another novel, 'Call Alex' (originally entitled 'Supermarket Jezebel'), and a book-length collection of poems, 'Me--Naked to the Core'.  [note, i write to purge, for pleasure, and for a sense of no nothing is publish...nor have i tried.]
Poetry with Purpose
(image by rmp, that's me)

More Words Than I Could Contain
(image by rmp, that's me)
a couple of years ago, when going back to school for my masters, i was introduced more formally to blogging.  i tried to reinvent my 'Poetry List' through a blog called 'rmpInsights'.  it did not live long, my poetry list people were not really ready for the whole blogging world.  around the same time i began working on another collection of poems, 'Diary of an Anorexic Love Life' and a retelling of 'The Princess and the Frog' meant for teens, but still untitled at the moment.  i am still in the process of creating both.  (i'm not very good at maintaining focus--as it is i had to trick myself into writing my first two novels as quickly as i did.)

that brings us to more present day.  i started this blog just over a year ago after a dream i had that told me i had been neglecting a part of myself.  thus far i have written (including this one) 215 posts, of which 113 contain new poems (some may have more than one we are looking at about 123 poems total).  i believe this is my longest consistent poetic streak.  it also gave birth to a short story ('With Just a Touch') that, though finished in my head, is taking me some time to finish.  so why is this blog more successful than the first?  #1, i have my rules that keep me on target.  #2, this is not another attempt at reinventing my Poetry List (those who know me don't even know this blog exists, at the moment).  i can't quite explain how #2 has helped this blog survive, but i guess before i had the excuse of they're not bloggers and don't quite get the whole following idea, so i didn't have a driving force to keep me going.  that is why my #1 reason works so much better.
Meet the Children's Books
(image by rmp, that's me)

anyway, that is my journey.  i'm sure i missed somethings along the way like my three children's stories (did the illustrations myself which probably explains my not feeling the need to mention them) and super-short stories (some of them are a bit twisted).  this journey was inspired by One Stop Poetry who i should thank for providing me with a reason to reminisce, i know this journey was more than they bargained for.

Below you will find my first three poems.  the first, well i like roses (preferably shades of pink) and i've always sort of linked them to love.  the second, i'm still trying to figure out.  the third, well that would be teenage unattainable love.

The Rose

It represents love, peace, agony, and pain.
But mostely it symbolizes the love which I hold.
A special love that is held only for you.
It's a love that like the rose will slowly wilt and die,
but one which will blossom with the right nourishment.

Together Forever

'Til death do we part
to mourn for one another
Death will over come us
and soon we shall be one


My thoughts are always with you;
My feelings always for you;
My words, however, are rarely about you;
Yet, my heart shall always speak of you.

Wednesday, February 9, 2011

5 Ruffled Feathers

I dared not speak; I feared to even breathe.  There was something about her the way she filled the room with her essence.  Her glare spoke volumes; her voice grated with every word that passed her lips.  Her posture was domineering and stiff.  I practically had to bite my lip until it bled to keep the laugh at bay.  Not because this pluming was so at odds with her normal demeanor, but rather because she so resembled the grey parrot whose mimicking had gotten her so wound up.

not really sure about this one.  my first instinct with dare was "Truth or Dare."  my first thoughts practical were "Practical Magic."  as for essence,  couldn't quite wrap my brain around it all that well.  so how this piece came about is beyond me.  i probably should of went for the poem angle, but it's been awhile since i toyed with prose. I suppose it will suffice for this week's Three Word Wednesday [3WW=>dare, essence, and practical].  I like the inclusion of the definitions, but it still doesn't stop me from looking up each would to get a better feel for their essence.  

Saturday, February 5, 2011

2 images

A Smile That Can Light Up a Room
(image by rmp, that's me)
one of the new blog rules is to include images at least once a week...spice things up with some visuals and what not...

while not stated in the rule, i have made the executive decision that the image has to be one taken by me.  i'm not really one for photography, mainly cause i just can't seem to remember to bring my camera with me or keep the battery charged.  my cell phone has made things a bit easier on that front, but my eye for the perfect shot isn't so fine tuned.

anyway...i have also decided a couple of guidelines would be a good idea.  so here goes...

  1. image must be an original by none other than rmp (that's me)
  2. image only counts toward the one per week upon its first appearance
  3. reappearing images are allowed
  4. all images must contain a title caption and credit the photographer (that's me)
i think those guidelines should suffice for now.  

Thursday, January 27, 2011

0 decision averted

She stared at blindly ahead.  Her focus shifting from the door to Maurice's Cafe to the vacant space in between. Mindlessly she unfolded and folded the note that she had long ago memorized.  This is crazy, she thought as a sigh escaped her lips for perhaps the hundredth time today.  She looked down at the note in her hand.  It was hard to fathom that someone could plague her mind this much, and without having experienced his touch.  Staring blindly at the words on the note she tried fruitlessly to figure out what it was about him.  Maybe it was a simple as the fact that he genuinely seemed to want to get to know her.  Most people just wanted what her touch could offer; and were disappointed by the experience.  She didn't want to disappoint him.  The idea that she might pulled at her chest.

This is crazy, she thought again and tucked the crinkled note into the pocket of her jeans.  She placed both hands on the steering wheel trying to ground herself, maybe getting ready to start the car up and leave as she aught to, and maybe fortifying herself as she summoned the nerve to open the door and make her way across the street to the cafe.  Just as her eyes closed, a knock startled her out of whatever decision she was going to make.  She glanced across the passenger seat to find James smiling at her through the window.  He raised his brows and glanced at the window.  She barely hesitated before pressing the button.  Her breath seemed caught in anticipation as the window slowly lowered.

"Hey," he said as the window finally touched down.  "Coming in," he asked as he nodded ever so slightly to Maurice's.  "Or you going to sit here a while longer in debate?"

Her breath finally came back to her with a little laugh and a smile that seemed so less scarce when he was around.  "I haven't decided yet."

Jaycie watched him nodded in understanding.  His gaze turned to the ground outside the door, as he contemplated her words.  A pang of loss poked her at the loss of his stare.  He shrugged and then extended his arm through the window and across the passenger seat toward her.  "Coffee?"

She looked from the cup he offered to him and back again.  "Thank you," she said as her hand rose to take the cup from him.  Her gloved fingers lingered ever so slightly as they brushed against his on the coffee cup.

He raised his own coffee, "cheers."  She smiled and drank in the warm liquid as he did the same.  As the cup pulled away from his lips, he glanced down as the passenger seat and raised he brows questioningly.  "Do you mind?"

She unlocked the door in respond than watched as he folded himself into the seat next to her.

Monday, January 17, 2011

0 branching out in the social realm...

Profile Profile
(image by rmp;
that's me)
i have no idea what possessed me, but i know have a twitter account.  i'm still not really sure i get the whole tweeting concept, but i suppose one of the best ways to learn and building a greater understanding of something is to try it out.  technically, you're probably should immerse yourself in it, but right now i'm still just testing the waters.  after i toy with it a bit and find my niche, maybe i'll be brave enough to branch out and find some interesting people to follow.  maybe by then the whole concept won't be so weird to me...but knowing me i doubt it.  i'm not sure if starting with twitter is better than starting with facebook, but for now it is one thing at a time.  besides i thoroughly enjoy annoying my extended family (none of my immediate family have an account) and all of my friends by refusing to join this social monster...

so, my first tweet is a set of three pom seeds.  i've been thinking that i'll need to come up with some base rules and guidelines for pom seeds, but with this whole twitter thing, maybe not.  i'll have to think on it.  i'm not sure which pom seed will give birth to my next masterpiece attempt, but i think they need a little time to ripen before i take a bite.

Thursday, January 13, 2011

1 Bursting with Pom Seeds

Bursting with Pom Seeds
(image by rmp, that's me)
In my one year blogiversary post, I made mention of the future holding new blogging rules.  Earlier this week, I made good on that promise and adjusted the Rules.  Amongst the new rules is a new category.  I'm nor really sure how this new category will fit in, but time will tell.

The category is called Pom Seeds. A bit of background on how this new category came to be.  It was the convergence of three different things.  (1) I read a guest post on Poetic Asides by Sage Cohen.  She talks about acorns, little tidbits of inspiration that come about yet don't quite have a home yet.  (2) I automatically related this to something my colleagues use in the elementary school called seeds.  Students create for seeds that they keep in a special journal.  From these seeds they inevitably create stories and other writings.  (3) Seeds made me think of a pomegranate, which I have been a bit obsessed with as of late.  So much so that I used them in a recent poem (winds of change).

After all is said and done, seeds are how I originally learned of 'acorns' so I thought to stick with that terminology.  As for the 'pom', as the poem mentions these seeds encased in their own individual kernels of fruit can be tangy, sweet, and tart.  I'm not sure what will grow from my Pom Seeds.  They may produces something exquisite sweet or maybe they'll inspire something with a little bite.  Time will tell...

Sunday, January 9, 2011

1 the past... the future...

Today ...don't open...don't throw away... celebrates its one year anniversary.  So in honor of this wondrous occasion, I thought I'd do a recap of where this blog has been and a hint of where it's going.

As the first post (and poem), my subconscious, tries to explain, ...don't open...don't throw away... began with a dream, not the 'wish for' or 'hope for' kind, but the slumbering REM induced kind. 

Since the creation of this blog was meant to help reunite me with my writing, the blog was developed with a set of five rules.  The three most important being:  (1) Must write at least three times within a week (Sunday to Saturday), (2) Posts must fall into one of three categories:  poems, prose, and/or ramblings, and (3) Of the required categories, may have no more than two consecutive postings of the same category.

Now as we all know, rules have a tendency of being broken.  Four times I missed the minimum requirement.  But four out of fifty-two weeks is not so bad.  It's only 7.7%.

To date, I have published 180 posts.  Of those 88 have been poems, 47 have been prose, and 52 have been ramblings.  Along with these there were three that did not meet each of the rules, and there for did not count toward the three minimum requirement:  an experiment...with two old poems, writing and singing, and villanelle...attempts two and three.  I well aware if you add up the numbers you do not get 180.  That would be because some posts hit more than one category.  I've constructed a diagram to help explain:

My first follower:  Lyla  (Thank You, Lyla D. for discovering ...don't open...don't throw away... and finding it interesting enough to want to return.  I should also thank my other followers...since officially there are only three total it would be wrong not to include the  Thank you Christina F. and Rebecca!)

My most commented on post:  i shall continue  (The majority of my commenters, if not all, are from Three Word Wednesday.  I thoroughly look forward to each Wednesday and the challenge it presents.  I also enjoy reading all of the other contributors.  So to all of you who have commented on this or on another post, Thank You!)

My most viewed post:  Methods to Soothe Raging Emotions  (I truly find this to be quite amazing since it seems to be making its way around the world all on its own, either that or the same person keeps coming back when the mood hits...but I'd rather think it's a whoever started the ball rolling...Thank You!)

Things I've learned about myself along the way:
  • I like repeating...a good number of my poems seem to have at least one line that repeats i enjoyed writing villanelles, pantoum, triolet, rondelet, and rondeau.
  • Social anxiety follows me into cyberspace (Follower, Friend and the Like)
  • Considering most of my poetry up to this poetry has been free verse, I found I enjoy the challenge of writing form poetry
Things I already knew about myself, but reaffirmed:
  • Poems are my preferred category.
  • I need to work on happy...
  • I have a thing for ellipses.

So, what does the future hold for ...don't open...don't throw away...

I think it is time to revisit the 'Rules'.  Over the next couple of weeks, I will be redefining the blog rules.  Rule three will be altered and I think I'm going to add something to rule two...but I still have some time to ponder that.  There will probably be a stronger focus on poetry.  Oh, and I think images need to find there way into my posts as well.  Who knows what else?  Time will tell.