POOF! The draft removed by me work work on for future submission.
* the prompt for this poem was to writ something about a Friday.
POOF! The draft removed by me work work on for future submission.
* the prompt for this poem was to writ something about a Friday.
Poof! This draft removed by me to work on for future submissions
*the prompt was to write something dealing with memory or memories.
Routine
If I didn't do it everyday,
a pile of work got in the way
and played up differences
enough to sway the karma
an altogether different direction-
and people stop to flirt with me
or promise me more, or disagree
and take my shine all away
stalling progress for the day.
If summer rain would run and hide
and leave me all alone to cry
so the parched earth would soak
it up, how the world would that all look?
And I'd be stalled in all I do
to finally make it up to you.
The things we've missed
and things all broken
what's left, just a token.
The prompt for today was write about something that had to day with clean.
Sun Bleached Bones
Quarter of 11 and I'm just now getting my poem for day six posted over on Poetry Asides.
I'm excited that the baseball season is under way, I'm going to catch up on scores from some games today and then head to bed. My Giants play tomorrow opening at home against the Brewers in an afternoon game. Go Giants!
It's not like I'm about to crack or anything, but when you are in a funk and writing bad stuff it's a downer. Through several efforts today I concluded with another piece that I am unhappy with. The problem is they were not getting much better as the day went along.
I could of course claim this all sucks and chuck it. That would be one way of dealing with it. But anytime one's writing turns south, as hard as it is, the best thing one can do is write through it. Walking away from it is usually not a formulary for success. So after day five, I have four that washes and one that could grow into something. I suppose I should not complain- just keep writing.
I've completed my poem for day four - the prompt was to write about an animal. For some reason I was not enamored with this prompt, but I charged ahead. It is not a poem that will appear here, but I did post it on the Poetic Asides blog as required as part of the daily challenge. I'm hopeful the Sunday prompt is more agreeable with me.
This morning I attended an Undergraduate English Symposium that was held at the Diastole in Kansas City. A poet friend Amy Davis was one of the presenters and I attended both to support her work and to learn what I could from the presentation. The Diastole is a magnificent facility both inside and out. It has a tremendous collection of artwork in various media and the tranquility that exudes from this place is beyond belief.
The name itself is quite interesting. Diastole, pronounced (dy-AS-tuh-lee), is a medical term for the interim between heartbeats, when the heart muscle relaxes. Systole is when the heart beats and delivers life's blood downstream. The heart rests following each systole, and fills with the blood of the next pulse. This period, the heart at rest, is Diastole.
Amy's work is consistently fresh and very tight. She is somewhat of a master of reduction to the lowest necessary denominator when it comes to words. I especially enjoyed hearing the changed directions that some of these poems took in rewrites. It was well worth the time, besides being enjoyable.