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.

Friday, January 21, 2011

0 Batch #1

Bursting with Pom Seeds
(image by rmp, that's me)
so after some thought, i thought i'd come up with some guidelines for pom seeds.

first, all pom seeds will be posted via twitter...(i need to come up with some purpose for seeds are just tiny little nuggets; a whole big post on them seems silly)...

second, every so often i will bring all of the latest pom seeds together in a post.  upon doing so, i will mark those that have already been tasted and add any additional thoughts that 140 characters doesn't express.

third, i hope that those who stop by and consume the pom seeds might leave their thoughts and ideas on how i might expand the flavor of a seed or two, or maybe provide an unrelated and potential seed...we all have our own taste and it might be interesting and inspiring to hear someone else take on a pom seed.  anyway....

Pom Seeds Batch #1

  • pink sky, orange moon (i was thinking about joining this with, "I woke with rose colored glasses...")
  • I sang this morning  (savored in a poem, Horribly Wrong)
  • Information overload
  • I woke with rose colored glasses; and the world was as only I could dream it to be
  • We were forbidden to speak; forbidden to meet one another's gaze; but what stolen glances could not sustain; our bodies spoke...  (inspired by a prompt from Poetry Potluck Monday about Languages, Signs & Symbols, it did not find its flavor in time to meet the deadline, but i'm hopeful it will still be a savory seed)
  • He said it was happenstance; and maybe he was right; but I couldn't take the chance; and so I put up a fight (savored in a poem, Serendipity)

Wednesday, January 19, 2011

5 Lost

the memory of that day
of the moment
i turned my world upside down
still seem so surreal
he was so lively and talkative
so fun and sweet
but for that day
that stupid mistake of a day
if looks could kill
my descent into hell
would have been instantaneous
he didn't speak
not one single one
he just stared
boring a hole straight into my heart
straight into the object my actions
had maimed in him
it was my own fault
i was stupid, young and infatuated
he was grounded, strong and in love
i didn't mean to hurt him
didn't mean to destroy what we had
i lost myself to him that day
but worst of all i lost him
i lost the one thing
that made the world seem right and whole


thank you to Three Word Wednesday [3WW=>descent, kill, surreal].  i had the lines for the first two words within moments.  the third took awhile to find and when i did, it exploded into something i did not expect.  while i was at it, i decided to explore adding my voice to the poem.  since blogger doesn't seem to like audio files, i used Windows Live Movie Maker to turn it into a video...

Tuesday, January 18, 2011

1 Horribly Wrong

something is wrong
horribly, horribly wrong
clothing malfunctioning wrong
honest lawyer wrong
Brittany kissing Madonna wrong
the world imploding wrong
hide under a table for a bomb threat
kind of wrong
something is most definitely wrong
because this morning on the way to work
I caught myself singing

so what could possibly be so wrong about me singing in the morning. after all, i love to sing. i sing in the car; i sing in the shower; i sing when no one is around, or even when they are around. i enjoy singing, whether or not i sing well is another story. so than what is so wrong? well, one thing i noticed this past year is that i do not, i mean never, sing on the car ride to work. i'm not a morning person in any way shape or form; i'm manage to get to work by rote memory and an excellent defensive driving subconscious. so finding myself singing in the morning is quite taboo.

first construction written from a pom seed...never said they turn out to be good...i believe i did mentions something about tart tasting pom seeds...based off pom seed: I sang this morning...

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.

Sunday, January 16, 2011

9 A Rose on the Pillow

I wake to a rose on the pillow
its fragrance greets me
like an old trusted friend
I drink in the mixture of its scent and his
and drift back to last night
reveling in the warmth of his body
as it curls next to mine
I'm torn
between dragging the rose to my nose
or burying my face in the pillow to explore his scent
I settle for the rose
his way of saying thank you
and more
we have many of these
little gestures
our own special language that gets us through
all of our ups and downs
he takes off his tie and sticks it in his jacket pocket
to tell me he's been thinking of me
he brings me a beer when he means to say he's sorry
and kisses me like a thirsty man when he forgives me
he traces "I 'heart' U" on the palm of my hand
and on the small of my back
so many tiny little signs that are solely ours
that the outside world cannot understand
I breathe in the scent of the rose
and wish that they all could see
I want to shout it from the roof tops
and post it on billboards
I want them to feel the strength of our love
but I know that will never happen
because I wake to a rose on the pillow
and she wakes next to him

this creation was inspired by Jingle Poetry's Poetry Potluck [Languages, Signs, and Symbols].  the picture of the rose popped into my head almost immediately, so I went with it...where it lead was a bit unexpected, but that seems to be happening to me lately...