Fall Back – Revisiting Previous Work

Happy Sunday readers, writers, and friends. I hope your weekend has been all that you needed. Our clocks went back an hour and while we’re falling back I’m looking back at some of my old writing. Of course I made some changes (us writers can’t help ourselves; a chance to edit something we swore was complete is irresistible).

Supernova

When stars shimmer

                   are they really

          just winking

at each other?

                     Are they blushing

             brightly, trying

         to figure

Does she like me

                 As much as I

          like her? Do they

         burn, burn, at

the core the way

                   I do for you?

               Imagine

            a heat red-

hot enough to

             blaze blue.

         I love

      you with

   the energy

of stars, two

stars exploding.

******************

This poem and some other writings are accessible for free on my Patreon . I’ll be posting contributor only pieces there as well. Pledge $1, $5, $10, or more a month for those and other rewards.

Quick!

I have laughed

and laughed

and laughed today.

I feel closer to

the child I

used to be

Closer

to the Woman

I am becoming

I feel light

like sugar spun

around a paper cone

like a bird

with lift

and purpose.

Quick,

before I

fly away

take my picture.

National Poetry Month

Did everyone make it through April Fools’ Day? I’m not a big fan of being got, so I’m glad no one tried it with me.

Other than being an acceptable time to trick folks April is National Poetry Month #NaPoMo

Here’s my first poem for the month. A haiku:

 

Your eyes are the sun

Warming my core so deeply

Gaze upon me, look

 

 

 

Have a great day! Happy National Poetry Month

What Books Make the Writer?

Did you ever read Bridge to Terabithia or Tuck Everlasting? What about The Phantom Tollbooth? Any of the Ramona Quimby books?

I did. I remember reading all of those books. While some of the details of what goes on in those stories are hazy, I remember how they made me feel. Adventurous, brave, curious. I couldn’t get enough. I wanted to “do that”, create worlds and stories that readers just didn’t want to put down.

It’s funny. All I’ve ever wanted to do is write and I’ve managed to do so in some way for a while now.  I’ve been lucky, besides the time I got caught writing on the living room wall with a red lipstick, that my love of reading and writing has been praised and encouraged.

I know that I write because I truly enjoy it. I feel the most like myself when I’m actively putting words down to figure out what’s happening or could happen in a story. Writing is also therapeutic and healing to me.

But when did this love turn into the thing that I must do? When did it get serious for me? Was it gradually or all at once?

Recently the Lit Hub article The Books That Made Your Favorite Writers Want to Write came across my Facebook timeline. Writers like Sherman Alexie and Zadie Smith know the exact book that made them want to be writers. How cool is that? Something locked into place for them and they knew or decided that they wanted to “do that” too.

The last few days I’ve been wondering which book(s) made me want to write. Was it Ramona Quimby, Age 8? Onion John? Maybe a short story from the anthologies I read in high school. An Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge, maybe? Was it poetry in college? Nikki Giovanni’s Ego-Tripping, perhaps?

At this point it would be nice to know what tipped the scales for me, but I don’t think it really matters.

I’m writing. I am a writer.