I want to live in a world where magic exists and dreams can be made manifest. I want to revolutionize love. I want to love and be loved in kind. I want to have sex with abandon. I want to come into union with myself. I want to be in union with my other half. I want to be myself. I want to be comfortable in my own skin. I want to be more like water. I want to dance with the journey. I want to live with passion. I want to write with passion. I want to dream beautiful moments into being. I want to follow my heart. I want to heal and forgive. I want to surrender. I want to open my heart and my mind to new experiences. I want to laugh until I cry. I want to cry when I mean it. I want to smile so much that when I am old everyone will know that I chose joy and gratitude as my default.
Every lesson I’ve learned
Has come with expenditure
Of sorrow’s lurid fruits
I’ve wiped sweat and tears
From a shadow-woven visage
And in the nucleus of strife softened
I’ve worn the faces
Of countless women
And the shoes of fellow drifters
I’ve faced both mirror and metronome
With a resolve to live and become
I’ve wasted and cherished
Chased laughter through open fields
Loved as if gripped by contagion
Sinned and served
Morals for which no law
Need profess and for which no law
Could deter if I determined
The deed in circumstance just
For I have the sense to know
Without threat or damnation
The ethos which governs my soul
I know that rebellion is essential
When governing bodies oppress
That true peace conceals
Neither arsenal nor agenda
I have failed
And in failing
Surpassed limiting contractions
Like can’t and won’t
I have survived
With the inconsolable notion
Is not enough
I have struggled forward
Knees, elbows, nail beds
No matter how infinitesimal
Stacked on a foundation
Which I have built
This weeks prompt is about stepping out of your comfort zone/niche. That’s right I want you to try something new, challenging, and/or a little different =)
1. Write a play, poem, skit, song, story (I have never written a play or skit for me that would be different)
2. Try a poetry form that you’ve never tried or have very little experience with (for my entry I did a sonnet which is a form I have almost no experience with and find very challenging besides!)
3. Write something outside of your genre or tackle a new or difficult subject
4. Do a voice recording of a poem, story, song etc.
5. Submit a photograph or artwork with your submission that you have created (many of us rely on google for our images)
6. If an artist or photographer you could try a different technique, a different subject, a different perspective (if you take pictures of flowers try taking a picture of machinery, buildings, animals, people etc), you could also attempt a daring self portrait
7. Try something new in real life like acupuncture, meditation, ice-skating, making Cinnamon rolls etc. and write about and/or photograph the experience
8. Go to the grocery store and choose an exotic fruit! Go to a restaurant and try a foreign dish! Then share the experience =)
These are just some suggestions feel free to challenge yourself in whatever way you like! If you are really ambitious try something new everyday this week it does not have to be a big event as I mentioned it can be as simple as buying a box of gourmet chocolates and writing about it.
I know there a lot of fabulous love songs out there with water work lyrics but I chose something charming, cute, and lively. I am sorry for the quality for some reason none of the available versions had decent quality. For my husband and I this is the kind of love song that more closely embodies us because although we are romantic, we don’t take ourselves too seriously. My ultimate romantic vision was to be given a bubble gum machine ring, granted I was a teenager at the time, but I haven’t changed much. I still prefer thoughtful, sweet, silliness over extravagant gifts and stuffy dinners in restaurants with miniature replicas of the Eiffel tower in the place of food. I don’t think money improves the quality of a gift, I think it’s sentiment.
In the precarious light of a sanctimonious sun I confess my sins to you. You who through rivalry are acclimated but never appalled by my flair for the dramatic. You who share my love of dangerous men and untidy adrenalin filled dalliances that have no hope of proposal. The story is always the same I met a man, good-looking but with a deliciously repellent and misunderstood personality. A man whose bad childhood justifies his actions more or less. The sex was incredible, I mean really incredible, practically religious. Our relationships was 60” by 80” of perfect happiness, outside of that padded cell I was miserable. I broke up with him after a few months of fooling around, it was just getting too sordid, too complicated, even for me, if you can imagine.
He died shortly after, I didn’t murder him, he just died in a very ordinary sort of way, a car accident, no alcohol, quickly I am told. I was devastated, I am not a monster, I really mourned that bastard. Then I started getting sick, I figured it was the lack of sleep and not eating right but I couldn’t manage to pull myself together. It was like he was inside of me, haunting me, tormenting me. Maybe the breakup was what did him in? Maybe he was crying and he couldn’t see the speeding Nissan heading right for him? Rationally I knew he wasn’t upset, I saw him chatting up a girl not three days after the breakup but there was nothing logical about my grief, the immensity of it. You would have thought my husband had died the way I went on about it. I lost my job, I started putting on weight, I stopped showering for fuck’s sake.
Nothing mattered, I visited his grave everyday. What does one do at a grave anyways? I kept reading him poems even though I knew he’d hate them. I just had to keep talking and I didn’t know enough to say anything to him personally. You were a great lay but kinda of an asshole? That’s not really a conversation. Sometimes I begged him to forgive me, not just for his death but for everything. I just sat there praying to this worthless bastard and his worthless corpse, deranged with grief.
During one of my ridiculous poetry recitals an old woman asked me if that was the father of my child. I was livid, fat and livid but it turns out I was also pregnant. It was too late for an abortion and I couldn’t kill his child too, our child, my child specifically. So I had a child, a boy, that looks just like him only bald and with delightfully smiley eyes. He loves me and he is the first man who I can honestly say that about. He’s obsessed with breasts like the rest of them but he is a good guy. His name is Luca and I’d like you to meet him.
The beautiful photograph is brought to you by the prompt host howanxious
This blog was created with the express purpose of sharing and collecting my writings. Primarily it is a selfish endeavor since I write for myself and have never written professionally. I do not pretend that I am a gifted writer but it’s not what I create so much as the act of creating. I love writing simply. Through my work I wish to convey emotion, to stir, and move the spirit. I love words the sound of them and their meaning whether those literal or distorted by my own perceptions. I believe in the power of words to move, to inflame, to enrage, to undue, and to bind. So in my works each word is chosen deliberately, each word adored. There is no correct or incorrect translation, often my poems have multiple meanings since I like to use a word in its entirety I sometimes tell many stories simultaneously. The meaning you derive is what is important and I would be very interested to hear your interpretations. I will note in closing that I have dyslexia so feel free to point out any errors of that nature as spell check and proofreading can do but so much.