The intimidation of the blank page has been known to cause a rage.
At the page the writer will stare, hoping to create something rare.
A story that can touch a heart; tear one’s perspective apart.
In his mind is the key to opening the mystery.
He hopes for a world recognized piece of art.
If only he could just start.
Friday, January 27, 2012
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
Time heals and love covers a multitude of sins.
But in the end, who wins?
Maybe there is no first place
in this life some consider a race.
We spend so much time on who is right and who is wrong;
we forget that it is for each other we long,
And when we are so busy tearing those we love apart,
we will never truly know the depths love can impart.
The love we search for all our lives
has always been here, right in front of our eyes.
What we thought we wanted, we already had.
What we thought we hated, really wasn’t all that bad.
The absence we feel is not the other person’s fault;
the emptiness comes from our own history's vault.
We expect others to fill in the gap,
As if they were the only one with a map.
Reality is so different from these fantasies we believe in,
The true reality is: we don’t want to win.
We just want to know who we are and that we are okay,
and let others see who we really are and let them love us anyway.
But in the end, who wins?
Maybe there is no first place
in this life some consider a race.
We spend so much time on who is right and who is wrong;
we forget that it is for each other we long,
And when we are so busy tearing those we love apart,
we will never truly know the depths love can impart.
The love we search for all our lives
has always been here, right in front of our eyes.
What we thought we wanted, we already had.
What we thought we hated, really wasn’t all that bad.
The absence we feel is not the other person’s fault;
the emptiness comes from our own history's vault.
We expect others to fill in the gap,
As if they were the only one with a map.
Reality is so different from these fantasies we believe in,
The true reality is: we don’t want to win.
We just want to know who we are and that we are okay,
and let others see who we really are and let them love us anyway.
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
Broken plans
I planned to go hiking today and didn't get to go! So disappointing, but there's a reason for everything. Maybe I was going to get eaten by a mountain lion or something...Couldn't sleep at all last night and a forgotten dress up day at school were the reasons. I can say I enjoyed sleeping most the day. I haven't had a day off work in 12 days and they have been some physically demanding shifts, so a break was needed. Since a lot of them have been nights, I will look forward to taking the pup to the lake tonight. My favorite time to go and I haven't been able to lately. House needed to be cleaned, too. There is always two weeks from now; always another chance - that's what keeps me sane these days. Not sure how hiking looks in the winter time. White? Maybe need some boots? Anyway, going to post some pictures of my dog at the lake I speak of. Beautiful! The link won't work. If you like dogs and want to see my pictures, copy and paste http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2094486&id=1212393130
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
Recent Escapades
....this is my one chance for renewal, allowing me to come back and handle it all more gracefully... and something to look forward to in the inbetween time. I think I'll start writing a note or two each time I go. My first lone trip was to Yosemite. I hiked to the top of Vernal Falls, and once there rose my eyes a few miles up where they fell on the beautiful Nevada falls. I was tired and questioning my strength. My health has been a bit in question and I know my shape for hiking isn't at its prime - but I went anyway. I knew that after a three hour drive and the beauty that awaited me, it would be a shame not to push myself that extra mile (or two - straight up!! did I mention?) But isn't that the point of my escapades? To push myself somewhere different and beautiful. A short reprieve from the stress and attempt to return a happier woman to take care of my daughter and work at my best. If you click on the above waterfall it will take you to more pictures of this wonderful reprieve...
Sunday, September 19, 2010
Stink Bomb of a Woman
So, just when I thought life couldn't get any more difficult it when and did just that.
I find it quite odd that I had all these dreams and aspirations, but no ability to grab hold of them. Always inhibited somehow. I worked diligently to put myself in a position where I have the freedom to take hold of these things I waited years to pursue, but because that position requires money and lots of work I have no time to do what I put myself here to do. What do they call that? Ummm, an oxy moron or something like that...or just plain pointless maybe...I mean, how is it that no matter what I do or where I am I always find myself blocked in some way. Never able to fully be happy. Are the places I take myself wrong or the people I choose to love the wrong choice for me?
This is what I came up with: If you move a stink bomb from room to room and around different people it isn't the rooms or the people that make it stink. It is the bomb taking the problem from place to place and to different people. The solution? That bomb needs to figure out how to stop stinking or pray it comes across someone who knows how to handle its stinking baggage.
I find it quite odd that I had all these dreams and aspirations, but no ability to grab hold of them. Always inhibited somehow. I worked diligently to put myself in a position where I have the freedom to take hold of these things I waited years to pursue, but because that position requires money and lots of work I have no time to do what I put myself here to do. What do they call that? Ummm, an oxy moron or something like that...or just plain pointless maybe...I mean, how is it that no matter what I do or where I am I always find myself blocked in some way. Never able to fully be happy. Are the places I take myself wrong or the people I choose to love the wrong choice for me?
This is what I came up with: If you move a stink bomb from room to room and around different people it isn't the rooms or the people that make it stink. It is the bomb taking the problem from place to place and to different people. The solution? That bomb needs to figure out how to stop stinking or pray it comes across someone who knows how to handle its stinking baggage.
Sunday, July 11, 2010
Long time since I posted anything here in my lovely blog, so I just wanted to drop a line to say I haven't forgotten you oh trusty blog. Though, I haven't been diligent in my writing and therefore haven't much to update on.
Woah am I a dreamer. From becoming a #1 Best Selling Author to owning my own little piece of downtown business district, I think my little heart does not know how to dream small.
Woah am I a dreamer. From becoming a #1 Best Selling Author to owning my own little piece of downtown business district, I think my little heart does not know how to dream small.
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
Monday, April 26, 2010
Monday Morning Ponderings
Monday Morning Ponderings: 1.) Spring smells absolutely wonderful! 2.) How hard is it, really, for people to pick up their own garbage?? I'd rather pick up after my dog than a lazy person, and I end up doing both:-P 3.) "No Dogs" signs are "No fun". 4.) I love how everyone waves to each other when they are camping. I feel like I am on that show Cheers, except for knowing their names, of course...5.) How come my purse, car, and house can never all be clean at the same time? 6.)No more red tablecloths if I can't remember to not put them in the laundry with non-red items. 7.) Do I need a better memory or a shorter to-do list?
Thursday, April 22, 2010
Keep writing or bust
Wow, life has been crazy and I am surprised I have found ANY time to fit in this little passion of mine. But I have, a little. Not as much as I would like to, but hey, little is better than none, right?
I can say that at this time in my life I am incredibly grateful for friends and food. There's nothing more comforting to the soul than eating an ice cream sundae or having a conversation with a real friend. Now, when I get to do both at the same time - Heaven on earth! ;) Oh, and how could I forget music? If it wasn't for the comforting ballads of Stevie Nicks, Lynard Skynard, CCR, REM, Nirvana, REO Speedwagon, The Cure, Janis Joplin, Casting Crowns, Super Chicks, Martina Mc Bride... can't name them all but don't know what I would do without 'em.
I really want to go to a poetry night at the Luna Cafe -BAD. I really want to go. Did I say that already? But the stars are just not lining up in my direction on this one. hmmmm and I used to call myself a resourceful person, could find a way to do anything!
I can say that at this time in my life I am incredibly grateful for friends and food. There's nothing more comforting to the soul than eating an ice cream sundae or having a conversation with a real friend. Now, when I get to do both at the same time - Heaven on earth! ;) Oh, and how could I forget music? If it wasn't for the comforting ballads of Stevie Nicks, Lynard Skynard, CCR, REM, Nirvana, REO Speedwagon, The Cure, Janis Joplin, Casting Crowns, Super Chicks, Martina Mc Bride... can't name them all but don't know what I would do without 'em.
I really want to go to a poetry night at the Luna Cafe -BAD. I really want to go. Did I say that already? But the stars are just not lining up in my direction on this one. hmmmm and I used to call myself a resourceful person, could find a way to do anything!
Thursday, April 8, 2010
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
Night Out with the Buds
I had so much fun with my writing buddies at Luna Cafe! It was wonderful to meet Professor Gillam and especially, to hear her read some of her new novel. The remainder of the night was spent bowling. I'd have to admit to losing the first game, but I did come back and kick but in the second. If I could have at least one outing like that a week I think I could handle the rest of week just fine:-) I'm actually thinking of heading back up there one of these Thursdays to read a poem, or at least to watch other people read theirs.
Monday, March 15, 2010
Can anyone actually make money writing poems these days?
So I have been witting a lot of poems lately. The funny thing is, I didn't think I liked poems! But for some reason every time I pull out the old laptop or a piece of paper and pen, poems come out! They roll out of my mind and off my tongue like a marble on a slide! Smooth and quick and with little or no effort. How do I make money writing those?
Thursday, March 11, 2010
Sunday, March 7, 2010
The woman sitting in the chair in front of the window
The phone rang, but Heather didn’t get up. She didn’t even look in the direction of the ring. Heather continued sitting in the same old rocking chair, staring out the same old single paned window, just like every other day the last two months.
Her brown hair seemed grayer by the hour and the fine lines around her young face were deepening at the same rate. She wore the same faded blue robe everyday she sat at that window, in the old rocking chair. He bought it for her for Christmas two years ago
People talked. They walked by the old Victorian style home and saw the woman in the window. They pointed and covered one side of their mouth with their hand as they whispered to each other about the woman who had gone crazy.
In one story, he left her for another woman. They say she went bonkers when he was packing his bags. In another neighborhood tale, she went crazy and paranoid, and told him to leave because of an affair he never really had. There were plenty of assumptions as to how the woman came to sit in front of that window, but the more important question was, what exactly was she waiting for?
Was she waiting for the man to come back? Was she waiting for another prince charming to come save her from the retched castle? What was going on in the mind of Heather Dawson as she sat, rocking, in front of the old window of the old home, growing older herself with every passing hour.
They came and got the kids after the second week of the behavior that had the whole block talking. People knew she had the two little ones and they needed more care than the crazy woman in the window could give them. Her blank stare caused concern for the little ones and when the protective services showed up, they found a house that had not been touched with a mop, broom, or loving hand, in weeks. Garbages were overflowing; trash littered the floor, and no clean bottles. The kids were in good enough health, so even though they took them, she remained in the home, instead of jail where many thought she belonged.
The rumors continued to spread and people entertained themselves with talk of the woman in the window for weeks to come. That is, until the smell appeared. It was faint at first, like old garbage. Then it grew stronger, more like a dead rat. But one day it overwhelmed Heather’s neighbor’s to the point of gagging.
People began to knock on the door, but the woman remained in her seat in front of the window. The phone rang again and again, but never captured her attention. A few even went right up in front of her and knocked on the window, but they got nothing more than a blink of her eyelids in response.
The stench grew so horrible, the neighbors called the police.
Knock. Knock. Knock. No answer.
Bang. Bang. Bang .No answer.
“How can she handle it in there? It smells like death and we haven’t even got the door open yet!” one police officer said to the other.
“Use the crow bar, Bill.”
Bill used the tool to try and pry open the door. Eventually they heard a pop sound, and the door creaked slowly open. Both officers plugged their noses and put a hand over their mouth. The putrid aroma of death filled their nostrils and they knew immediately, they had a bigger problem on their hands than a woman who didn’t clean up after herself. Bill pointed to his partner in a gesture as if to say, “You call for back up, I’ll check it out.” He got a nod from his partner in response.
Bill’s boots made the floor creak as he slowly closed ground toward Heather. His brows knit together in confusion when he saw her there, sitting and staring. Then she turned her head to look at him and the glaze over her icy eyes made him take a step back. This bitch is crazy.
“Ma’am, there is a god awful smell coming from this place and we need to know why. Can you tell me what it is?”
She opened her mouth, but for a moment, no sound came out. As if after all these months of silence, she had forgotten how to talk. Then, finally, she spoke. “I had to take him out of the freezer.”
“Take who out of the freezer, Ma’am?”
“Steve, of course. You know the man was almost 6 foot tall? He just never wanted to fit right, so I just took him out and let him lay on the floor.” Heather looked toward her feet and Bill followed her glance. When his mind registered what he saw there, he jumped back a full three steps in one leap.
“Oh my God! Derek! We got a homicide!”
Once over the initial shock, Bill reached for his cuffs and began reading the woman her rights. As he did, he fought the oncoming nausea at the sight of the murdered and mutilated man on the floor. She was using him as a footstool. He was in two pieces, one stacked on top of the other. The skin was a bluish-white where there wasn’t blood covering it.
“You’all took a real long time getting here,” she said to Bill. “It really stinks, you mind taking me out of here?” Heather pushed the body with her bare feet, as if pushing back an ataman from a couch, and stood up.
The top half of the man slid off the bottom part. Bill watched in amazement as the man’s head hit the floor and his shoulders and minced-meat torso followed. That was too much for Bill. He reached his breaking point. He grabbed his stomach and threw up, his eyes and nose dripped as the stench overwhelmed him.
His partner walked in, just in time to see the woman walk over and pat Bill on the back as he vomited.
Her brown hair seemed grayer by the hour and the fine lines around her young face were deepening at the same rate. She wore the same faded blue robe everyday she sat at that window, in the old rocking chair. He bought it for her for Christmas two years ago
People talked. They walked by the old Victorian style home and saw the woman in the window. They pointed and covered one side of their mouth with their hand as they whispered to each other about the woman who had gone crazy.
In one story, he left her for another woman. They say she went bonkers when he was packing his bags. In another neighborhood tale, she went crazy and paranoid, and told him to leave because of an affair he never really had. There were plenty of assumptions as to how the woman came to sit in front of that window, but the more important question was, what exactly was she waiting for?
Was she waiting for the man to come back? Was she waiting for another prince charming to come save her from the retched castle? What was going on in the mind of Heather Dawson as she sat, rocking, in front of the old window of the old home, growing older herself with every passing hour.
They came and got the kids after the second week of the behavior that had the whole block talking. People knew she had the two little ones and they needed more care than the crazy woman in the window could give them. Her blank stare caused concern for the little ones and when the protective services showed up, they found a house that had not been touched with a mop, broom, or loving hand, in weeks. Garbages were overflowing; trash littered the floor, and no clean bottles. The kids were in good enough health, so even though they took them, she remained in the home, instead of jail where many thought she belonged.
The rumors continued to spread and people entertained themselves with talk of the woman in the window for weeks to come. That is, until the smell appeared. It was faint at first, like old garbage. Then it grew stronger, more like a dead rat. But one day it overwhelmed Heather’s neighbor’s to the point of gagging.
People began to knock on the door, but the woman remained in her seat in front of the window. The phone rang again and again, but never captured her attention. A few even went right up in front of her and knocked on the window, but they got nothing more than a blink of her eyelids in response.
The stench grew so horrible, the neighbors called the police.
Knock. Knock. Knock. No answer.
Bang. Bang. Bang .No answer.
“How can she handle it in there? It smells like death and we haven’t even got the door open yet!” one police officer said to the other.
“Use the crow bar, Bill.”
Bill used the tool to try and pry open the door. Eventually they heard a pop sound, and the door creaked slowly open. Both officers plugged their noses and put a hand over their mouth. The putrid aroma of death filled their nostrils and they knew immediately, they had a bigger problem on their hands than a woman who didn’t clean up after herself. Bill pointed to his partner in a gesture as if to say, “You call for back up, I’ll check it out.” He got a nod from his partner in response.
Bill’s boots made the floor creak as he slowly closed ground toward Heather. His brows knit together in confusion when he saw her there, sitting and staring. Then she turned her head to look at him and the glaze over her icy eyes made him take a step back. This bitch is crazy.
“Ma’am, there is a god awful smell coming from this place and we need to know why. Can you tell me what it is?”
She opened her mouth, but for a moment, no sound came out. As if after all these months of silence, she had forgotten how to talk. Then, finally, she spoke. “I had to take him out of the freezer.”
“Take who out of the freezer, Ma’am?”
“Steve, of course. You know the man was almost 6 foot tall? He just never wanted to fit right, so I just took him out and let him lay on the floor.” Heather looked toward her feet and Bill followed her glance. When his mind registered what he saw there, he jumped back a full three steps in one leap.
“Oh my God! Derek! We got a homicide!”
Once over the initial shock, Bill reached for his cuffs and began reading the woman her rights. As he did, he fought the oncoming nausea at the sight of the murdered and mutilated man on the floor. She was using him as a footstool. He was in two pieces, one stacked on top of the other. The skin was a bluish-white where there wasn’t blood covering it.
“You’all took a real long time getting here,” she said to Bill. “It really stinks, you mind taking me out of here?” Heather pushed the body with her bare feet, as if pushing back an ataman from a couch, and stood up.
The top half of the man slid off the bottom part. Bill watched in amazement as the man’s head hit the floor and his shoulders and minced-meat torso followed. That was too much for Bill. He reached his breaking point. He grabbed his stomach and threw up, his eyes and nose dripped as the stench overwhelmed him.
His partner walked in, just in time to see the woman walk over and pat Bill on the back as he vomited.
Saturday, March 6, 2010
Lily was a girl who knew how to laugh. She knew how to make friends, she knew how to have fun, and she knew how to love. With knowledge like that, she didn’t see a reason to learn anything more.
Then there were those moments, the moments she tried to ignore. In those moments Lily found herself feeling empty and sad. She would sit when it was quiet and feel a loneliness in her heart that scared her. Memories and thoughts danced dangerously in the recesses of her mind. In those moments, Lily would pick up the phone, call the first person she thought of, and see if they would like to go out. She would get dressed in an outfit that made her feel sexy and apply her makeup perfectly. Lily would slip on her high heels, hop into her car, and drive to a distraction. These distractions came in the form of clubs, parties, and road trips to unknown places. She liked to escape the town she lived in, get as far away as time would allow.
Much like the empty sadness she felt during the quiet moments when a distraction of laughter, friends, or love, was not available, she felt a stirring inside her that she should be doing something she was not doing. Lily couldn’t figure out what that thing she needed to do was. So, she would drink the thought away, make love to strangers, and do dangerous things with a smile on her face.
One night, at one of those parties she used as a distraction from her thoughts, she found a substance that made her feel exhilarated. When she took it, all was right in the world. No more lonely feeling, no more insecurity, no more fear. She wanted more of it. She quit her job so she could spend more time doing it. She found friends who liked it too and wanted to be around them as mush as possible. She introduced this substance as a wonderful medicine for unfulfilled people to her friends. And because she was a leader, they tried it too.
But one day she felt her body say, “No more.”
Lily stopped taking her special medicine. An odd, seemingly divine, stillness deep inside Lily, told her it was no longer safe to take it.
Lily laid in bed one night, feeling alone and hopeless. She asked God, “Please God! Why am I here? What do you want with me? I’m ready for my purpose; please tell me what I’m supposed to do with this life you’ve given me!”
Two days later, God answered.
Lily paced up and down the narrow hallway of her small home; her glances were frequently in the direction of the bathroom. The directions said ten minutes.
Lily looked at her watch. It had only been five. She took a deep breath and returned to the bathroom, anyway. She walked to the counter top and looked at herself in the mirror. She saw a young woman’s face looking back at her and watched as her pretty eyes filled with tears. She closed those eyes and let the tears trickle down her cheeks, without wiping them away. She knew her answer was on the counter and all she had to do was open her eyes and look down.
Ready. One. Two. Three. Lily opened her eyes and looked down. Her breath caught in her throat and she felt as if someone’s strong fist grabbed hold of her heart. “Oh, no. But, but, he said he couldn’t…”
Her thoughts trailed off as she picked up the test and stared, as if a strong enough gaze would change the verdict. But it wouldn’t. Lily set it back down and placed both hands flat on the counter top, bracing herself. She slowly raised her eyes to where she had just seen the reflection of a young girl, but there was someone different looking back at her now.
The face staring back at her was that of a scared young mother.
Then there were those moments, the moments she tried to ignore. In those moments Lily found herself feeling empty and sad. She would sit when it was quiet and feel a loneliness in her heart that scared her. Memories and thoughts danced dangerously in the recesses of her mind. In those moments, Lily would pick up the phone, call the first person she thought of, and see if they would like to go out. She would get dressed in an outfit that made her feel sexy and apply her makeup perfectly. Lily would slip on her high heels, hop into her car, and drive to a distraction. These distractions came in the form of clubs, parties, and road trips to unknown places. She liked to escape the town she lived in, get as far away as time would allow.
Much like the empty sadness she felt during the quiet moments when a distraction of laughter, friends, or love, was not available, she felt a stirring inside her that she should be doing something she was not doing. Lily couldn’t figure out what that thing she needed to do was. So, she would drink the thought away, make love to strangers, and do dangerous things with a smile on her face.
One night, at one of those parties she used as a distraction from her thoughts, she found a substance that made her feel exhilarated. When she took it, all was right in the world. No more lonely feeling, no more insecurity, no more fear. She wanted more of it. She quit her job so she could spend more time doing it. She found friends who liked it too and wanted to be around them as mush as possible. She introduced this substance as a wonderful medicine for unfulfilled people to her friends. And because she was a leader, they tried it too.
But one day she felt her body say, “No more.”
Lily stopped taking her special medicine. An odd, seemingly divine, stillness deep inside Lily, told her it was no longer safe to take it.
Lily laid in bed one night, feeling alone and hopeless. She asked God, “Please God! Why am I here? What do you want with me? I’m ready for my purpose; please tell me what I’m supposed to do with this life you’ve given me!”
Two days later, God answered.
Lily paced up and down the narrow hallway of her small home; her glances were frequently in the direction of the bathroom. The directions said ten minutes.
Lily looked at her watch. It had only been five. She took a deep breath and returned to the bathroom, anyway. She walked to the counter top and looked at herself in the mirror. She saw a young woman’s face looking back at her and watched as her pretty eyes filled with tears. She closed those eyes and let the tears trickle down her cheeks, without wiping them away. She knew her answer was on the counter and all she had to do was open her eyes and look down.
Ready. One. Two. Three. Lily opened her eyes and looked down. Her breath caught in her throat and she felt as if someone’s strong fist grabbed hold of her heart. “Oh, no. But, but, he said he couldn’t…”
Her thoughts trailed off as she picked up the test and stared, as if a strong enough gaze would change the verdict. But it wouldn’t. Lily set it back down and placed both hands flat on the counter top, bracing herself. She slowly raised her eyes to where she had just seen the reflection of a young girl, but there was someone different looking back at her now.
The face staring back at her was that of a scared young mother.
Friday, March 5, 2010
Monday, March 1, 2010
Officially Re-familiarized with Leo and Anna
So I listened to great advice and began reading aloud this morning and fell in love with my story all over again. There are so many mistakes and inconsistencies, yes, but I think the skeleton of the story is one worth taking the time to edit, fix, buff, and polish. Now I am going to my "thinking spot" to decide what Anna will do now that Steve has shown up early and unexpectedly. Will she be brave enough to tell him the truth? Will she run away? Will he go Psycho in front of her? Or act calm now, but do some crazy things behind her back? Will she be on to him? Or will she be ignorant to exactly how bad he has become? And where did Leo go? Will he come back? When? What was he doing while he was gone? And how long will I make Anna wait to find out? Maybe she will make the wrong guess and distrust him until she finds out that he was trying to protect her all along? Maybe he was never a neighbor to begin with, maybe it's time to find out that Leo was undercover keeping an eye on Steve, and just happened to fall in love with Anna along the way? But how would that work with his being a successful businessman? It wouldn't. hmmm...
Saturday, February 27, 2010
Rays of sunshine amidst the storm
You ever look up into an over cast sky with sun breaks, one of those especially beautiful ones you stop to look at even if you are in a crummy parking lot at the time? And it seems in some of these gray/black masses of clouds who hide almost the entire blue sky, that we can see those little rays of sunlight sneak their way past the darkness and shine down for the whole world to see their rebellious character. Usually when I see these triumphant beauties I think they are God's fingers reaching down to take souls up to their new heavenly home. However, lately, when I think about them I think how much life is like that sky. Sometimes clear and easy, blue and bright, but often cloudy and dark for reasons we have little or no control over. And when I think of life that way, I see those illuminating rays as those friends in my life who have taken their time and spent their effort to make my dark sky just a bit brighter. I thank God for them. Its funny how He allows us to suffer these storms but it is also Him who blesses us with the radiant light of love and friendship.
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