4 Last Call: Tumor Vision

---

Tumor Vision

Busy casino carpets should be just that,
an array of visual designs intended to stir
the bustling atmosphere — NOT
a twisted version of Munch's "The Scream"
head burning in hellish flames.

I so long for the artist's hand
to sketch out what only my eyes seem to see.

Dark volcanic clouds should be just that,
billowing plums of smoke and ash
casting an ominous fear — NOT
a demon awakening from a long slumber
intent on destruction and death.

I so long for the artist's hand
to outline what only my eyes seem to see.

Bird poop on a car window should be just that,
a disgusting nuisance foretelling good luck
that should be wiped away — NOT
a mustached man wearing a bearskin hat
standing guard at the window.


I so long for the artist's hand;
I itch to unearth these visions — unseen,
to breathe life into them with a skillful hand,
in turn distilling the crazy notion
that (a)
I'm crazy and (b)
there's a tumor
pressing on my brain.

Oh, how I long for the artist's hand.

---

Is it just me....  Or can you see what I see?

For some reason most people I've asked see an owl.
(image by rmp, that's me)

photo taken by Martin Rietze
(http://www.mrietze.com/)

Mustached Man in Bearskin Hat
(image by rmp, that's me)

---

An Aside:  Photo #2 also inspired a poem called, Volcanic Eruptions (which can be found on my new blog). The post also includes a version of the image where I attempt to point out the demon in all of his glory.

---

I'm ahead of schedule this week, but...this is my offerings for this week's dVerse Poets Pub OpenLinkNight. If you get a chance, check out all of the talented poets who have stepped up into the spotlight.

2 More on 'Save the C.O.N.E.S.'

In yesterday's Time Capsule post, I made reference to a 'story' which is technically a personal narrative told from the point of view of a road cone. 

The story was written by a close dear friend of mine, Queen Cone.  She was too shy to pose for a picture, but I'm still trying to sneak one.  Queen Cone is a real cone given to me by my friends from high school.  I can't recall if it was sophomore or junior year, but she was a gift they hoped would lift my spirits.  The idea that I'm good at masking my depression is really just a farce to make me feel better.

Anyway, she was kind enough to dedicate her story to me...

In return, I let her use my poem, which I posted yesterday.  Along with some photos I enhanced that depicted her life and story.  It was fun toying with photoshop and all the different effects;  adds a bit of character really to such dismal images.

I know you're all dying to here her story, but I'm not so sure she wishes to go completely public with it.  I'll ask her...maybe if your lucky....  But here is just a taste of the beginning of her story.

One would think the idea of my own kind being torn apart and butchered would horrify me. One might believe seeing them patched haphazardly together in the likeness of the species that brought about their death and destruction would enrage me. One might think that. But it does not bother me in the least. Truth be told I am a bit envious of my fellow comrades; they have transcended our pitiful existence becoming something that provokes an array of emotions from those who abuse us daily. The thought that I might follow, preferably in a less painfully manner, in their footsteps seemed impossible. Nothing is impossible.

I wasn’t so much born into this world as I was made. My first real memory was being stacked with others like me and shoved into a large white and orange vehicle. I recall being like that for quite some time. I immensely disliked being in the back of the vehicle and often wished that I would be released from the restrictive space. It wasn’t long before I realized I should be careful what I wish for.

 

10 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



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...

Fading (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 speak...to 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.

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 months...no wonder i'm feeling drained...no wonder my old friends, paper and pencil, are calling my name again...

1 Postcard #1: Wishing You



Closed Layers
(postcard front)
[image by rmp, that's me]



(postcard back)
[click to enlarge]

---

dear lover,

i write this from my bed
where i continually dream of you
my heart aches to have you here
helping me to forget about the world
but really
can you live up to all i have dream?
for i have dreamed you many times over
molded you to suit my whims and fears
can you really hold a candle
to my heart's desires?
i fear the answers are no
and yet still i wish you were here.

with much love,
d

---

upon reading Poetic Asides’ challenge to write a postcard poem, the first thought that came to mind was “another postcard with chimpanzees ~ and everyone is addressed to me.” i had to listen to the song just to get it out of my head. after a bit more reflection, i found myself thinking about D. Prest and her letters, which never made it past letter #2. i went back and read over the two letters and (aside from realizing i am a horrid speller) wondered what D. might say in a postcard. it didn’t take long for me to find her words.

19 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...

1 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)

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?

10 Tanka: Pink Rain

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

#1
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)

#2
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.

0 Batch #3

Bursting with Pom Seeds
(image by rmp, that's me)

time for a new batch of pom seeds and leftovers.  i definitely think twitter was a good medium for throwing out little bursts of thought that have the potential of evolving into a tasty morsel.  140 characters seems to be just enough, though i admit i've cut some ideas or reworked them to stay below the limit.  i've now been a member for 39 days...and have managed 18 tweets.  and while the majority of them are pom seeds, two found themselves fully ripe with flavor.  so i'm expanding this batch to include new pom seeds, leftovers, and (what i will term) tweetoetry.

---

Pom Seeds Batch #3

• my heart aches for what was; as the world crashes in on me; ripping through me; as though I were a speck of dust; I weep for you
• love is pain and sorrow; wrapped in disguise; it laughs at me; with its sweet intoxicating lies
• I woke this evening to a dream; and found myself the real me (i tried to expand this one, but i don't think it has fermented as much as it needs to)
• I see myself in black & white; brilliant colors surround me; poke at me; eager to caress me with their warmth; but they bounce off of me

Leftovers

• Information overload
• I woke with rose colored glasses and the world was as only I could dream it to be
• we were never friends; not really; how could we be; when all we did; was dance around each other
• my mom use to day; we're never lost; we're just misplaced
• i hate days like today; where i'm blindsided; punched in the chest; days when all i want to do is curl up into a little ball and disappear
• "you're growing."; am I? I don't think I'm growing; maybe just walking outside myself
• I feel like an outsider looking in; the warm embrace of acceptance eludes (found its flavor in two recent poems:  alone and To be rid of this curse)

Tweetoetry

#1

~Drowning

how do I make it stop 

how do I just--not care 

please! tell me how 

'cause I'm drowning 

alone 

and fast 

(this first tweetoetry had me toying with syllables (6, 6, 4, 4, 2, 2).  i've never really been one for syllables.  even more so if i have to pay attention to syllable stress.  but it's good to work outside one's comfort zone.)

Strike a Pose
(image by rmp, that's me)

#2

~My Dear Little One

you lay with eyes closed

your breath barely visible

I fear what's ahead

the cold earth is unyielding

still I must make your last bed

(first, i still had tanka on the brain from One Stop Poetry's Form Monday [Part 1 and Part 2].  not a bad form for tweetoetry, but not exceeding the max character count can be a bit tricky.  secondly, the poem was written for Bailey, who had me quite worried by acting like  an old man as apposed to his usual rambunctious self.  i've read the average lifespan is 8-10 in some sources and 10-12 in others.  either way, he is on the cusp being just over 10 years old.  fortunately, he is back to his crazy wall climbing self.  maybe it was the cold weather...maybe he was mad at me...maybe he was just tired from all his shenanigans, after all he is technically and old man.)

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 accomplishment...so 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 poem...so 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


You

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.

---

14 Writing Unmasked

Writing Unmasked
(by rmp, that's me)

no one sees me
not the real me
how could they
i keep her hidden
so well hidden i
sometimes can't see her

some may try to uncover
try to see what lies within
but i conceal her behind a mask
one that looks delicate and fragile
but is forged in iron, steel, and diamond
so well have i worn it
sometimes i forget she lay beneath

but she's there
lying in wait
knowing she'll be freed
for short stints at a time
to speak a truth only she knows
in the only way she knows how
so well she does write
sometimes the world gets a glimpse of me

---

written for Thursday Poets Rally...yes, i realize it is not thursday...but i've never been very good at deadlines...

1 three for two

i missed my image last week...so today is three for two day...

i have folder of photos called oddities.  these would be random images that have no particular place.  for today's set of images, i've pulled from the oddities folder.  now while the pictures are technically random that doesn't mean that some of them don't have some connection to one another.  thus today's theme is books...

Worlds to Enter
(image by rmp, that's me)

when i find myself lost
when i find the world crashing in on me
when i find i must escape myself
i find myself lost in the power of words
i find myself transported to a new world
i find myself escaping into beautiful tales
i find myself with book in hand

Beware What Lies Within
(image by rmp, that's me)

beware the road you travel
it is fraught with twists and turns
beware the stranger you meet
his agenda may not match your own
beware the labyrinths ease
for it is meant to lead you astray

Path to Destiny
(image by rmp, that's me)

a wise turtle once said
"one meets his destiny
often in the road he takes
to avoid it."
faced head on or avoided
destiny will find you
as only it was meant to be

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.  

0 Our Hearts' Refrain

Two Hearts Rising
(image by rmp, that's me)

we were forbidden to speak
forbidden to meet one another's gaze
but what stolen glances could not sustain
our bodies spoke our hearts' refrain

...

we were forbidden to touch
forbidden to dance in one another's arms
but what stolen glances could not sustain
our bodies spoke our hearts' refrain

...

we were forbidden to meet
forbidden to be alone with one another
but what stolen glances could not sustain
our bodies spoke our hearts' refrain

...

we were forbidden to love
forbidden to share our lives with one another
but what stolen glances could not sustain
our bodies spoke our hearts' refrain

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i'm torn between posting this now or waiting and letting it stew for a bit.  part of me feels it can stand alone as is, but another part of me feels the need to fill in the untold story...i just haven't quite put my finger on what that story is...so for the moment it will stand as is...though i have a feeling i'll be revisiting it shortly...


while inspired by Jingle Poetry's Poetry Potluck [Language, Signs, and Signals], it did not ripen in time for this past Monday's post...strangely enough, i think it might still fit with this upcoming Poetry Potluck [Rules, Regulations, and Laws], we'll have to see if it ferments in time...

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.

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...