Photo Credit Tommy Stone
wisdom where red feathers glean
the tiniest warmth from a setting sun
though dark would steal what once was seen
a beating heart holds what is done
and puffs up downy fluff to keep
a seed of bright and radiant heat
while all around the world does sleep
another year goes rolling by
in dappled sun or tunnel shy
greening spring of bluest sky
loud ticking of the clock
a saddened naked tree torn down
the baby Jesus with His crown
exchanged for winters foolish clown
and February’s shock
I hunker down by roaring fire
pen in hand to poem aspire
while frigid winds send warnings dire
blow faster than they seem
the dreamer sleeps the hours away
and misses words to help him say
and sleeping right on through the day
misses spring times dream
and yet inside reflected flame
unseen world awaits a name
no one could ever set the blame
the dreamer trance will end
then scribbling fast and faster still
thoughts tripping over words and will
real life can never match the thrill
poets inner sight portend
yet here a warning thought be said
one cannot live just in ones head
to keep the art from falling dead
the soul must outward turn
the outer feeds the inner heart
while inner lets the heart depart
embrace the both to make a start
a candles worth is in the burn
Tommy Stone
a single tear
traverses a soft cheek
faraway goddess floating alone
in deepest blue cannot compete
gently clouded by shadow
sunset flames leave Venus
cold and solitary
jealous of a darkened earth
This photo was taken by Tommy Stone. The little white dot in the upper left section of the sky is really Venus!
the pond must know a secret
it fills a hollow place
beauty mirrored in stillness
quietly waits in grace
weathers drought with patience
faithfully refilled
the pond must know a secret
how did it get so skilled
the pond must know a secret
see all around it grows
it’s silence sings to living things
even the marsh grass knows
the trees are fed and cluster near
cradle nest and fruit and seed
the pond must know a secret
made to be fed and then to feed
Photo Credit Tommy Stone
in winter deep
the colors sleep
beneath the mounded snow
a covered heart
broken apart
heals in the dark below
come greenest spring
the warmth will bring
a rose where thorns would grow
Throw a log on top and
bank the coals
to keep the fire
for dark is coming soon
and watch though
it is barely there
the sweetness at
the bottom of the moon
the smallest detail lined in blue
just shadow, barely seen
reminds us that
in light and dark
the earth would stand between
so we must stand from sun to moon
when pain and sorrow fall
and cast a shadow on the land
be light and hope for all
thank you Ginger for the picture and Tommy for the line….
colors fade
a distant call as rising comes
the grayest fall
of evening shadowed blue and gray
mirrored neath a purple sky
the darkened trees will bend and sway
weighed down by dark
a solemn sight
woods stand brave
a last attempt
moon prevails
sun is spent
Alice showed up late to tea
Mad Hatter ran away
the Red Queen’s off her meds you see
The solitary card was played
Tweedle Dee and Dum are gone
The magic pill was way too strong
and now the drink has spilled about
and all the partygoers flown
there’s nothing left of Cheshire Cat
his grin the last to pop
teapot broken, chairs are listing
table on it’s top
so go now Alice, better run
Find the hole and climb back out
the looking glass was made of ice
and if you stay then frozen too
no happily ever after
no second glance, the choosing done
there’ll be no other chapter
The End
(inspired by the photography of Ginger Cook)
golden molten rays of sun
slip down between the boughs of green
her dragon sleeps curled at her knee
his wispy smokey snoring plays
a bass line to a melody
heard only in her mind and struck
by urgency she dips her quill and scratches
out a tuney tale as forest folk creep
closer still and curl up in the shady dale
and wait for storyteller time
and as she lays her feather down
begins to read they bob their heads
then dance and weave around her rhymes
and as the ending fades away
they slip into the shadowed gloom
the dragon wakes and winks and blinks
the story ended far to soon
but teller hides her parchment well
a hollow in the hawthorn tree
next to a stream so cool and clear
where dragon, deer, and sparrow drink
and rest, a merry tale to hear
photo credit Tommy Stone
You wouldn’t think it
would you?
Seeing the flame of sky
streaking the blue with the heat
of dawn,
that the cold reaches pale fingers
down to naked trees
and even the fish nod
in the frigid deep,
dreaming of jumping
for fireflies under a lazy sun.
Not for now.
You stand on the shore
shivering in the frosty glow
before trudging back
to warmth
and morning coffee.
I discovered that three days of no electricity, cloudy gloom and a house that doesn’t get about 65 degrees F is about my limit for nice. The fourth day I am mostly whiny and bitchy. There are many still with no power and groups from other states working in the cold to get things fixed. Trees down all over town, homes and cars damaged by falling limbs. People liken it to a tornado but there is a huge difference. Tornadoes kill people and I’ll trade broken trees and holes in roofs for that any day. Still, prayers for all who are still living in the cold dark. It was 18 here last night and supposed to be in the 20s tonight. We were blessed to have a fireplace but this has decided it for me – I will never own an all electric home again. We were so much better prepared when we lived in the country and had a gas stove and hot water heater and a wood heater in the living room that would heat most of the house.
the clouds are not
just in the sky
they’re in my head
and in my eyes
and cold is living
in my heart
my bones about
to shake apart
frozen fields
and hardened ground
stinging air
frost makes a sound
a buzzing like
electric lines
while all that lives
lies still and pines
for warmth of sun
and light of day
but winter stays
and stays
and stays
The photo is taken in my back yard this morning but the poem was actually inspired by a photo taken by Ginger Cook – I recommend her photo blog http://gingersfunkyphotos.blogspot.com/
Ginger graciously granted permission to add her photo so here is the picture that started the shivery poem!
Hay Bale With Ice taken by Ginger Cook
The blog has been quiet as I attempted nanowrimo again…I hated everything I wrote and found myself totally uninterested in what happened to the characters. Until the night before the end. I ended with 26682 words.
Weirdly I started in an entirely new direction, changed everything but the names of my characters and found myself writing a story I want to complete.
In the past, nanowrimo has meant the end. I wrote the words, ended up with huge plot holes and stuck in corners with no way out. I would put the pile upon pile of words up on a shelf and never look back.
This time, instead of nanowrimo being an end, I find myself at a beginning, so while I did not “win” in the traditional sense of the word, I won in an entirely new way.
I don’t know that the outcome will be any better but it has renewed my passion for writing and I will see where it takes me…one more time.
It’s the night after nanowrimo and I am still writing.
My name is Lena and I carry the blood of a mage and a witch. I am also part shapeshifter. This makes for a lot of confusion. I don’t belong to a pack because the packs don’t accept my magic blood. I do not belong to the guild because the mages do not accept my shapeshifter blood. I am alone. I like it that way.
Several months ago a mage was murdered. The body looked like it had been mauled by a wolf. The pack did their own internal investigation and denied having anything to do with it. The mage guild refused to believe them and they threatened all out war. Innocents would be hurt in the crossfire and a friend in the pack asked me to look into it. He approached the mage council and they agreed.
That was the beginning of my problems.
when darkness hides
and shadows fall
and I am sinking under
like nightingale
I will prevail
stillness breaks like thunder
open my throat to find
the note
an answer filled with wonder
she sings
I sing
and in the dark
the harmony goes on
till morning comes
and darkness gives
once more to find
the dawn
oft times it’s not the melody
that causes us to linger
for God is busy on this night
and sent to me
a solitary singer
fearful now I close my eyes
the song comes sweeter still
perhaps that is her mission
when sight would fail
and faith be dim
it’s time to stop and listen
The sun it sings a lullaby
She softly settles down
To rock me in the shadowed trees
Wrapped in a cloudy gown
Of palest pink with lacy stars
I listen to the evening song
I close my eyes and nestle close
Safe right where i belong
The rodeo girls are bright
With their glitter and big hats
Big hair and the turquoise purse
Zebra striped flower
Decoration
What was she thinking
Rhinestones and denim
The queen sucks frozen latte
Through a red straw
Mama in her spandex
Nursing the finger
Burned on the curling iron
Omfg the little one repeats
Horse giggle as mama swats her
While daddy wonders how he will pay
And pay and pay for all
The pretty little horses
Flash Fiction prompt: He could be the one.
Lena slumped into the booth and waved at the waitress. Her skin burned as new runes worked their way into flesh. She sunk deeper into her hoodie, and nodded as the waitress poured. She clutched the cup and gulped as the shakes took her.
“Are you okay?”
The voice came from behind her and as she turned, the shaking slowed and he frowned and stared at her. The burning eased and blessed numbness covered her.
“I’m fine.” There would be a body. Ten bodies in ten weeks. Ten marks. Her insides were a mess, but the pain she had grown accustomed to was gone. That had never happened before.
“Mind if I join you?” Without waiting for an answer, he scooted into the seat across from her. He signaled the waitress and Lena glanced down at the empty mug.
“Thanks.” She sipped the coffee slowly and waited for him to speak. She needed time. He reached across the table and pushed up her sleeve and stared at her arm.
“Death has been following you.”
She jerked her arm away, pushing the sleeve down. The last victim had still been alive when she got to her. Before she died, she grabbed Lena’s hand and told her to find the man that could read the signs.
“Who are you?” His hair fell over dark eyes. He looked strong but not muscle bound. Just a guy. Yet, there was something. The way the pain stopped when he looked at her. He could be the one.
edited wip
If you have used a mac for awhile, and if you are virtual hoarder like I am, you will find that even though you have deleted files you still have a very bloated hard drive. There is a reason for this. Macs let you recover deleted files in case you change your mind. In order to do that it has to continue to store them, even though they may not be visible. This adds up over time.
To really truly irrevocably delete the files, go to applications, select utilities, then disk utility. Your drives will be listed on the left (even flash drives if you want)
Click the drive you want to clean up then click erase.
Don’t freak out – this will not erase everything.
Click erase free space.
Choose zero out deleted files. You can choose the others but if you have never done it before it will take a long, long, loooonnnggg time….
I have been struggling. It has been a year of changes. Most of them good. Some wonderful. I have a new grandchild who lives just a tad too far away. I would love to see her every day but we will make the drive as often as we can. There will be more about her later, I promise.
At the end of last school year, I changed jobs. I have been the high school technology contact for thirteen years. As of last April I became the computer tech for the district.
I have enjoyed learning new things. We spent much of the summer setting up new equipment, including desktops, laptops, and iPads. We also re-imaged some labs that were already in place and replaced some older machines with newer machines.
The week before school started, the tsunami hit. I have experienced the beginning of the school year craziness before but only on one campus.
This morning I loaded up the dog and went to the track to walk and think. In the past, I have almost welcomed the challenge of that first few weeks. It was physically tiring but emotionally satisfying in the sense of accomplishment. You would think that the sense of accomplishment would be magnified when translated to an entire district. If that is true, then why have I spent the last week stressed, frustrated, and generally in a negative state of mind?
I realized this morning that while I always worked very hard that first few weeks, I was very visible to the people I was helping. I was all over campus and all the staff could see me and know that I was there and on the run. They were patient and understanding and considerate.
Being all over the district means that the only people that see me are the ones at the campus I am presently working on. That means that every other campus where I am NOT has no idea of what I am doing. This is the first time I have felt unsure about my job performance. I am having trouble separating objective evaluation from insecurity. Evidently, my motivation at work is not money though of course I like a paycheck, like everyone. My motivation is tied very much to feeling like I am making a difference and making others happy.
I have let myself get into a cycle of negativity and my goal next week will be to get myself out of that cycle.
Last week we attended the sign-up session for a bible study on The Fruit of the Spirit. My assignment this week will be to study to present on Loving God’s Family and the scripture is John 13.
Whenever I read this scripture I hear music. A song called The Basin and the Towel by Michael Card. In particular there is a line where he talked of “the impoverished power that sets the soul free”.
I meditated on that scripture and the song this morning as I walked around the track. The world tells us to stand up for ourselves, to not let anyone walk all over us.
I think that John 13 is not so much about not being first or about humiliating yourself, but about the transforming power of Christ to work through us when we stand down and allow Him to change a situation of strife to a meeting with Him. When we are willing to serve others without resentment, we mirror Christ servanthood and allow Him to draw others to Himself. That is the external effect. The internal effect is that as others react to the difference in us, we lose our own anger and resentment and are ourselves, transformed.
This will be my goal for the next week. To continue to meditate on these verses and watch for opportunities to let Jesus have His way and take my anger, my negativity, and make it something entirely different.
I already feel better. How can I not?
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RV14WES9aow