The Things We Choose To See

Why is the sky always falling
when there’s nothing that tells us it will
but the fears and worries constantly filling our minds
or maybe I’m just living in a dream world without any ill

but it’s there, wherever I go,
It was there when I grew up and they called it martial law
It was there when everyone wore yellow
It was there when the world watched a regime fall

It was there when young love came to me
kissed me and then went away
it was there when the tears fell
and the words tearing through my heart somehow found its way

onto the page, where no one could see
the fears and the joys that filled me to the brim
and then one day came the chance to show off
work that was once hidden deep within

and now, works pile up on the virtual page
on desktops, laptops and mobile screens
anything that comes to mind regurgitated,
I was no longer alone, joining drama kings and queens

who complained about everything
even the sky falling every day
to anyone who would listen, or read
as long as there was something they could say

But the sky isn’t falling
no matter how dystopian your world view may be
I just wish we could all see the good more than the bad
I wish the bad things in this world isn’t all that we choose to see.

Six Hours

You’re at the airport, your flight is delayed for six more hours, and none of your electronic devices is working. How do you pass the time?

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These days, in addition to my iPhone and even my Kindle paperwhite, there’s a hand-bound leather journal and a pen in my purse.  Just what I need if all the batteries run out on all my electronic devices and I’ve got at least six hours to kill.

Besides watching people walk by, and planes as they land and take off in the distance, I like to write poetry in my journal, and sometimes I also sketch.  There are slips of paper in between the pages, as well as photographs, mostly of the muse, to remind me of why I write sometimes, or what I’d like to capture when he or she comes to visit again.  There are cards from people I know, some of them a nice surprise when I received them, and others, with some sentiment attached to them.  There are also a few sheets of stationary and envelopes just in case I want to write a letter to someone, and even some stamps, both local and international.

With my journal at hand, all I need to do is find somewhere comfortable to situate myself in, whether on a chair or on the floor – maybe with a cup of coffee by my side and a croissant, too – where for the next six or so hours, I can lose myself in the many worlds I create.  And before I know it, they’ll be calling out my flight number and gate, and I’ll shut the world back into the journal till I find myself inside the plane and let them loose once again.

Daily Prompt

Share My World – 2014 Week 12

Wow! Is the week over already?  I usually look forward to weekends but tomorrow I teach 2-day workshop and already I have 16 students and I can just see myself hobbling back home on Sunday, wishing there was a massage therapist handy to take care of me when I get there.  But anyway, before that workshop starts and sucks the life out of me, it’s time to share my world (so far!) with you, courtesy of Cee’s Photography.

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What is your most favorite smell/scent?

My most favorite scent would have to be a baby’s scent, like little puppies and kittens – and of course, little babies like my son, when he was literally just a little bundle in my arms.  His smell has certainly changed now that he’s four, but I still take a deep inhale of his hair whenever I can, even though that baby smell is long gone.

I do like the smell of certain colognes on a man.  But for now, I’ll stick to babies…

How do you write: computer, longhand or other?

I write much faster on the computer, but sometimes when I don’t have one close by, then by hand will have to do, especially when I have all these bright ideas for my novel.  Thankfully, I’ve started writing in journals again, and as long as I stick to the muse and my novel ideas, then I’m fine – the journal is safe from the next moment of anger that might strike me and I rip every page to shreds – like I did every single journal I kept in the last 20 years.  Sad, I know.

That’s why sometimes writing on the computer is much better.  I write so much that I don’t remember what file I’ve put what in…

Your favorite blog post that you have written? (add link)

You can’t ask me to name only one!  I can, however, name three:

In His Study – a short story about two of my novel characters long into the future of the story I’ve set them in.  It started out as a writing challenge, but I think it’s really not anymore – because it’s long….really long.

Lucas North on Line One – A daily prompt challenge about receiving a phone call from a stranger, and in this case, I chose to receive one from the muse I was writing about then, Lucas North.

Elevator – A writing prompt that places you stuck in an elevator with a stranger.  I wrote this with vintage small elevators in mind, an old unmarked can of Mace that used to be in my purse for years, and a tall, dark and handsome man with blue eyes – and hopefully no murderous tendencies…

What’s one of your favorite books from childhood?

The Little Prince, by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry.  It was one of the books that was already in my room when I was little, and I read that again and again, not exactly understanding why it was so sad, for a children’s book.  I recently just acquired my very own copy.  This was printed in 1943, and I am just so excited to read it again.  Hopefully I’ll understand the true meaning behind his words now, so many years after I last read it as a child.

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Bonus question:  What are you grateful for from last week, and what are you looking forward to in the week coming up?

I am grateful for spring.  At least now, the days are longer and I get to do more around the house, even though I wish I could do more but with each chore I do, that’s one hour taken away from my writing unfortunately.  It makes me realize just why it is there are more male poet laureates – they didn’t have to worry about dinner or the laundry or the PTA.

I am looking forward to teaching tomorrow’s Thai Yoga workshop, and in a way, getting it over with.  Teaching something to that many people can be stressful, and introducing them to an Asian bodywork technique that is so new, and so different from what they learned in Swedish massage can be a challenge.  For what I teach just about breaks almost all the fixed rules they learned, but it is what it is.

Daily Prompt: Ritual (Nonet)

What are your favorite traditions, large and small? What is it about your traditions that keep them going strong for you?

Photographers, artists, poets: show us RITUAL.

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Writing out the muse and all his rage
all his love trapped within this cage
of thoughts and dreams bound up tight
till I release them, let
them go into the
night, waiting for
reckoning –
till the
light.

16/365

*A nonet is a nine line poem. The first line containing nine syllables, the next line has eight syllables, the next line has seven syllables. That continues until the last line (the ninth line) which has one syllable. Nonets can be written about any subject. Rhyming is optional.

Daily Prompt