Tag: poetry

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walking because it’s good for me

I used to walk a lot, largely because my day included a half-mile walk from my house to the train, and from the train to the office, plus I’d aim for a mile or two at lunch. Most days I averaged a sum total of around five miles in a day.

Then, along came the pandemic.

Like so many others, exercise became problematic for me. Sure, I could still go out for walks, but in the early days, when we weren’t sure exactly how this thing was transmitted, I had no desire to accidentally have to be near people who could have this thing and not know it.

After a while, it just became easier to just stay home. I got lazy.

I’ll admit that when contemplating the move out here to Stockton, I worried that the trend would continue, because I had no idea what the neighborhoods around me were like, so I didn’t know how safe I’d be walking.

I have walked every day for the last 9 days, starting off at just over a mile and working up to the last three days which have averaged 3 miles. Somedays I take a planned out route. Somedays I play a game of “where does this road go” which, I will admit, has gotten me into trouble in the past as I’ve either gotten a bit lost, or ended up on a road that didn’t connect back to where I started without turning around.

Yesterday I played the game and was rewarded with a very lovely walk in the not-quite-daylight and this beautiful sunrise.

For me, walking is a time when I can be in my body, in my own head, without the interference of the day’s agenda and all of the things I need to do. Sometimes I’m composing poetry. Sometimes world building. Sometimes I’m just remembering things and people and places.

And yes, sometimes I’m just thinking about putting one foot in front of the other to get back home.

The day is always waiting for me when I get back, with work to be done and such. Today’s walk needs to start a bit earlier than it has been, as I have meetings starting at 7:30 am. I am currently drinking coffee and thinking about today’s walk. Where will the adventure lead? I may take the reverse course I did yesterday, or I may divert around a park I spotted yesterday. I won’t know until my feet hit the road.

I hope your day includes many wonderful adventures, Readers. May the Friday be with you.

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therapy in words

When I was in my teens, I wrote poetry daily. Granted, most of it sucked. I was a very different person back then and my exposure to the world was limited to small-town upstate New York and my very religious mind-frame. But, that isn’t the point. The point was in the joy of just writing whatever came to mind.

A good chunk of what I wrote was steeped in the far-right, evangelical Christianity that I was saturated with at the time, but one of the things I learned then was that I could spew my darker emotions, my darkest views of the world, into my poetry as a means of processing those things without poisoning who I was.

It is a lesson I have carried on into my adulthood. A lot of folks who read my poetry ask me about it, about how my poetry doesn’t seem to reflect the person they think of me as. Often it is because poetry is my therapy. And it remains so today.

Sure, I can be fun or silly, or sultry in my poetry as well. But, I think it’s in my darker work that I shine the most, if that makes sense. I pour a lot of who I am into my words and I can spend a long time working over the words I choose to express myself…but sometimes a poem simply falls onto a page and there is no work, only emotion.

That’s why I consider it my therapy, and since going back to writing at least one poem everyday, I’m finding myself on better footing mentally. It feels really good.

Anyway, it’s Friday and payday here in my world, so I’m off to pay bills before starting the day job. I hope this weekend treats you well, Readers, with good food, better coffee and a bit of poetry to decorate your world.

Photo by Álvaro Serrano on Unsplash

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life, writing, and muddling through

It feels trivial somehow to talk about the mundane aspects of a mundane life when around the world people are suffering and dying in zones of war, bombs falling from the sky, buildings reduced to rubble and scared populations huddle in the dark or flee desperately to foreign lands.

At the same time, for those of us not in that immediate situation, life continues at its regular, mundane pace and so we go on.

In writing news, The Daughters of Morru is now available over on my Patreon page for all Patrons at the Enablers tier ($3 /month) and up. Chapters are posted every Sunday. So far three chapters are available.

I continue in my quest to write a poem per day, with first access to those available on either my Patreon page (for all Patrons $1 and up) and my Ko-Fi page (for all supporters, even 1 time donors). So far I’ve only missed one day, due to an accident that left me a bit concussed and rendered my muse mute.

I continue to settle into the new place, getting a little more comfortable every day. I now have an actual kitchen table and chairs, which I haven’t had in close to ten years. I’m almost feeling like a proper grown up!

I’m hoping my Death Wish Coffee order shows up soon, or I may have to resort to Starbucks this week! Fortunately, there’s a Starbucks walking distance from my house…I just need to find my make up to cover up my bruised up face (I look like someone punched me right between my eyes).

But, it’s almost time to start the day job and I still have today’s poem to write, so I shall leave you to your Tuesday, Readers. I hope it is filled with kindness and good things!

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books!

I read a lot of books. Like, a lot. My bookshelves are always overflowing. I read a lot of different kinds of books: sci-fi, fantasy, biographies, classic literature, books about religion and history, books about current or recent events, true crime…with lots of stops along the way.

I have recently been dipping my toe into books about business and industry, largely due to my day job sponsoring a book a month, which we get together (virtually) to discuss. This is a genre I’ve always struggled with, largely due to my rebellious nature. I tend to buck the status quo and dislike the homogenization that industry seems to require.

In a normal time, I have two or three books that I’m in the midst of, usually one non-fiction, one fantasy or sci fi and possibly a book of poetry or an anthology of short stories. In the last year or so, however, I’ve had trouble focusing on much. I’m reading in an all or nothing sort of way. I’m either reading or I’m not and I can not seem to deal with more than one book at a time.

Considering the size of my TBR pile, this is problematic! I got a new bookshelf yesterday, so I can finally get those boxes out of the garage later today. The house is coming together. I have a table and chairs coming today, and a few other things as well.

I hope your Wednesday is filled with wonder, Readers, wonder and joy.

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I’m a poet and I know it…

My first forays into writing were really bad poetry. I was a pre-teen when I started writing poetry, and it continued into my angst-filled teen years. Somewhere, in some box or bin that is still in the garage, I have a pile of poetry, notebooks filled with bad rhymes, and inane topics. The bad was not helped by a near-fanatical religious belief and the extra-special dirty-bad-wrong that I had been taught regarding the human condition.

Of course, as I got older I learned that poetry doesn’t need to rhyme, that sometimes it’s the rhythm of the words that bring it to life. My skill with words improved, I tried my hand at different kinds of poetry, but found a home in free verse.

As I found my voice and shed a bad religion, I delved into topics unrelated to the angst of a teenager. I grew to love the way I could shape a feeling into a poem, and I started writing from a rather adult place. I explored topics like politics and religion and sex. I painted the page with allegory and melancholy.

Through all of that, I was working on taking my love of words further and dove into writing fiction. Sometimes, it seems like I abandoned poetry for prose, but I always come back to poetry.

For the last several days, I’ve been starting my day with writing poetry. It feels amazing to be crafting words again. I hope to continue doing so for the near future. I will be posting new poems to my Ko-Fi page first for members, then to my poetry blog a few days later.

Head on over to Ko-fi if you would like to support a poet / author, Readers! I can’t wait to share with you.

Or, if you’re a Patreon kind of person, you can find me there too!

Photo by Trust “Tru” Katsande on Unsplash

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nesting

I have arrived at my favorite part of moving: the nesting phase. There is something satisfying about finding new homes for your things and settling into the new routine.

This house has more storage space than the old one, and an extra bedroom that will likely become the craft room. There is also an extra bathroom and an actual place for a kitchen table. There are also stairs, which one of the kitties thinks is the best thing ever.

The downstairs bedroom is now my office and it has a sizeable closet which, when combined with an actual craft room, means my office will stay cleaner because I don’t have to empty the closet every time I’m looking for something!

There is still so much unpacking to do, but I have today and tomorrow to devote to it, and that should get me to a good place.

The cats are getting used to the place, and getting used to being indoor kitties again. The old house was on a quiet street where I didn’t have to worry about them being outside. The new house is in a much busier neighborhood with cars going by at all hours and kids walking to and from school and the small shopping center around the corner. The doorbell camera is getting a good workout.

I should have my tax refund this week, so I’ll be able to go get myself a washer and dryer for further settling in (and not having to schlep laundry around).

In writing news, I slapped together some poetry this morning. If you’re interested, have a gander: morning-news.

The coffee cup is empty, so I guess that means it’s time to get to work. Have a wonderful Saturday, Readers!

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grief and despair

Anniversaries can be hard. A twentieth anniversary after nearly two years of worldwide sorrow and loss is going to be hard.

Some of us can not look away from the images and footage. Some of us can’t bear to see it again. Some of us fall somewhere in the middle of that.

Please be kind to yourself and others today, Readers. We are all hurting. We are all grieving the loss of so many in these last two years. Today, as we remember lives lost twenty years ago, remember that it is okay for you to withdraw, protect yourself. Find time to grieve.

But, find time to laugh too. Find time to smile and be with loved ones (as safely as you can). Reach out, talk with people who love you. Don’t let despair take root inside you.

I published a poem on Ko-Fi this morning.

grief is a dragon

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sunshine and kindness

August is something of a transition month for me. When I lived in Upstate New York as a kid, it had this impending feeling of autumn, but with the heat and free spirit of summer. Corn of the cob and macaroni salads filled picnic tables, kids splashed about in Lake Ontario, and trees were just starting to show the kiss of color that autumn would bring.

Thoughts would turn to shopping for school clothes, the smell of leaves and fires, the anticipation for hay rides and haunted houses.

Of course, now that my life no longer rotates around the school calendar, August is the start of a string of birthdays/holidays that begins with my brother’s oldest child’s (who is no longer a child) birthday, mine, my mother’s, Halloween, Thanksgiving, my brother’s birthday, Christmas, New Year’s and then my brother’s youngest child’s birthday (she is no longer a child either).

Add in there a trip to Austin early in August most years for a birthday celebration of another kind, plus various conferences and vacations, and most years August is the start of time accelerating to race through it all.

I leave for Austin on Thursday (vaccinated and masked), but until then, I’m trying to hold back on the gallop and keep this thing slowed down a bit while I can. I’m writing a lot, and editing the Sirens Benefit Anthology, and even working at designing a cover for it.

Right now, I’m savoring my Death Wish Coffee and contemplating thinky things. I plan on filming some poetry videos while I’m in Austin, so stay tuned for that to happen.

And now, Readers, I’m off into my Sunday. May yours be filled with sunshine and kindness.

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autumn dreams and poetry

Is it just me, or is this year just flying by? Somehow, we’re almost at the end of July. Before you know it, we’ll start the birthday/holiday run that starts in late August and ends around April.

At least I’m ready for the autumn temperatures, not that this has been a super hot summer, not compared to some I’ve spent here in California.

I’ve always been partial to the autumn. I love the colors, the smells, the memories of apple orchards and pumpkin farms, back-to-school clothes and hayrides.

My creative side craves it. I write more poetry in the months of September, October and November than the rest of the year combined.

I’ve just launched a Ko-Fi page! What is Ko-Fi? Well, it’s a place for creators to create and share. My commissions are open for Social Media bios, poetry and short stories. Stop by and buy me a cup of coffee.

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…for the love of words…

I love words.

I love long words, short words, weird words. I love unusual words and common words. I love combinations of words that absolutely, perfectly describe something or someone.

I love twisting words around until they come out just right.

I’ve been drawn to words and how we use them to communicate since I was a child. I learned to read rather young and I loved to immerse myself into the worlds of the books I read. Then I learned that I could write my own worlds, create my own stories with the words that I loved.

As is true of anyone, my first attempts at that were…shall we say, not good. From my juvenile poetry to my first attempts at short stories and even novels, my love of words only grew, and fortunately, my use of them improved over time.

Today, I hold in my hands a book of poetry…my poetry. Words that I wrestled with, slept with, scribbled out onto loose leaf paper or the back of receipts, words that I typed out in the middle of the night when I couldn’t sleep until I got them down.

There is a satisfaction in this project that is a little different to any of the novels I have published. It is more intimate, because these words often come from deep within my understanding of who I am.

And, I love who I am. I hope you will join me on this journey. Find your copy at Amazon or other online retailers. May this Tuesday serve you well and bestow kindness upon you, Readers.

Photo by Jeremy Beck on Unsplash