Tag Archive | writing

When Words Take Wing

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Artwork by Okalinichenko

Lines escape.
Letters become words,
become sentences,
become living poetry
breaking the veil
between reality
and belief.
Creatures created
from the twitch
of a synapse
within a stirring mind,
Flowing from pen to page
toward freedom,
words take wing.
Soaring thought,
ideas awakened,
loosed to roam
wither they will,
to set upon
unsuspecting souls,
stirring hearts,
provoking contemplation,
sharing wisdom,
creating dream.
Finding their way,
waiting to be found.
Lines escape,
letters become words,
become sentences,
become living poetry . . .

CRC

The Words

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The words, the words – they scream, begging for release, clamoring, vying for attention, pieces of poems and paragraphs of prose push and pile one upon the other until I hear nothing more than noise, until they become nothing more than sound without substance, until I’m forced to lock them away, somewhere so deep within I’m afraid they’ll be lost.

The words, the words – my constant companions, my friends, my sometime foes. Tonight, there are too many, so many I cannot pluck them out and pen them to a page so I doodle and scribble my angst. I write random words and scratch them out. My frustration fills the page.

Perhaps tomorrow they will settle, tomorrow they will whisper. Maybe then I will breathe again.

Palette of words . . .

I’d no intention to write today, poetic was certainly not the mood I was in, but I clicked on WordPalette instead of Solitaire this afternoon to wile away the time between loads of laundry and lost myself in wordplay.

Seriously, if you haven’t tried this app, you should. Every time I play around with it, I’m left happily surprised with the results.

Sometimes I only use words from the palette, sometimes the choices simply serve to inspire and spark a little creative fire. I’ve always liked playing with fire . . .

Click here to read a little more about this fun app –> My Favorite, Fun New App

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Raging against ourselves,
abandoned from within.
Felled by foolish pride
and ignorance,
we search for meaning
amongst the ashes
of truths we long ago burned.
We buried the path
to a better future
beneath layers
of forgotten yesterdays,
of lessons we were meant to learn.
Miles made of years
stretch before us,
in the space between now
and someday,
there lay a vast
and barren desert
littered with remnants
of things we once valued.
Mammoth mountains
of prejudice and disdain
and things we should have
long since buried
impede those
who seek refuge beyond them.
Those willing to forge a new path
and embark upon a journey
toward a new future,
willing to face fears
and fight against what is,
will one day rise,
lifted by winds of change
until they soar high enough
to glimpse the dawn
of a new day.

It’s not personal . . .

img_0877Killing for them or tearing one of their worlds to pieces is the easy part. It’s not personal, for me at least. I’m not personally or emotionally invested in them. I know, what’s wrong with me, right? I’m not like a lot of other people, and I’m not just talking about the killing and dissembling of someone else’s world stuff.

Really, I think the killings are probably the most normal thing about me. People just have very different ideas of what constitutes normality. I’m only trying to help.

So, like I was saying, the killing part I do for them is easy for me. Okay, it’s sometimes a little tough. I wouldn’t do it if I didn’t have to, but it’s kind of a job requirement.

The thing I have a harder time with is dealing with the ones who came to me and asked me to do the job to begin with. I mean, c’mon, they know what I’m going do, it’s on the business card for crying out loud. Well, if I had business cards it would be. The point is, they know.

Sometimes I just want to scream. I’m listening to these grieving creatures and thinking, umm . . . you came to me, remember? You read the terms and conditions, you signed here, initialed there, so really, dry it up and move on. That sounds cold hearted, I know. Especially since I am so much like them and would likely feel the same way.

Besides, it’s not like they can’t fricking bring them back to life. It voids my services of course, I stand behind my work and my refund policy clearly states in no uncertain terms that there aren’t any refunds. Heck, a majority of the time I do it for free anyway. I probably shouldn’t but, and reserve judgement here, I enjoy it. I often derive a great sense of satisfaction and sometimes even inspiration from it.

Don’t get me wrong, I’ve had plenty of satisfied clients, most of them as a matter of fact, but some seem to have a harder time letting go once the deed is done. They wonder if they made the right decision, I suppose that’s normal. It’s a process. They know they did what had to be done, or they wouldn’t have sought out my help, but still, they grieve. They don’t always agree with my methods, even though they came to me based on my previous work.

That’s the thing, they trusted me to get the job done, then they second guess the way I did it. After some time has passed and they’ve worked through their emotions they almost always come to thank me, I get a lot of repeat customers actually.

It’s a rollercoaster, what I do, I like to think I’m pretty darn good at it too. Sure, I make judgment calls maybe someone else in my position may have made a little differently, aside from the basic mechanics, we all have our own little bit of flair we add to our work.

You know, I don’t always do the actual deed myself, I offer advice to folks who want to see it through themselves. Every now and then I just tweak their ideas a bit, give an overall opinion of the direction they want to go and they get it done.

I have a job right now actually, so I gotta get to it. This one is for img_0878me, it’s a little harder when you make the work personal. Words to cut, characters to kill, paragraphs to shorten, others to lengthen . . .

I’m not a monster. Editing and critiquing the words penned to a page can be brutal work, especially when you’re doing it for someone else, or yourself. Just brutal.

I didn’t bother to check for grammar, typos, or any other of pesky things that plagues writers in the above rambling, it’s just rambling. Something to keep my mind from going mad with the muddied mood I happen to be in. It was either plot murder or write about what to some constitutes a demise of sorts – editing.

I once tried to give them life

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Upon these wrinkled pages
there are traces of me
left scribbled in ink.
My soul marks the margins
and the middles,
from left to right and sideways.
Pieces of paper painted
with half formed thoughts
I’d hoped would breathe
once they were penned
lay lifeless,
scattered corpses
of inspirations abandoned.
Wasted words, lost,
tossed in a box,
never discarded,
left to the worse fate
of being ignored
by the one who promised
to make them dance
for the world to see.
If I smoothed these pages
enough to set them free,
would they turn their backs
on me or be thankful,
grateful for my company?
I’m afraid to look upon them,
I don’t know what I’ll see
looking back at me.

~ CRC ~

You Don’t Have To . . . but you do

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From the bottom of my heart . . .

You don’t have to take the time to read my words, but you do.

You aren’t obligated to take an extra moment of time to like or share or comment, but you do.

I want you to know how much it means to me. How it makes my heart dance and sing each time you leave a little bit of yourself here with me. You don’t have to . . . but you do.

How I wish I could tell you just how much it means it to me.

It may seem silly, and perhaps it is, but I feel connected to each and every person who leaves their mark upon my little world here. The other world, it’s too big and noisy and crowded, this is where I feel at home.

I’ve left the door open and invited all to enter. I may not be the best hostess, I don’t always have something wonderful to say, but by coming in and saying hello, you’ve given my words value.

You make me want to open up and share, I still hold back. I’m like the hostess of a party who retreats to her room once the quests have arrived – you though, you make me want to come out and join in and I am trying.

I read an article this morning about blogging, it said you had to have a niche. It said you had to have something people want or need to hear if you ever want to be a success.

I don’t have a niche. I have a voice, one I’m learning to use a little more. Success is something subjective to me, if just one word I’ve written has moved someone, made them think, or encouraged them in some way, then I count that as a success. Damn right I do.

I recieved a well-intended message recently from a reader, she said I should focus on something. You have autistic children, make an autism blog. You are a writer, make a writing blog. You have diabetes, make a health blog. You are a poet, make a poetry blog. Do something that will draw in people who want to learn what you have to teach them.

Oh, sweet girl . . . thank you, but no.

It meant a lot to me that she would take the time to encourage me in this way, but no. That’s just not where I am right now. I can’t dedicate my mind to a singular subject, maybe one day, but not just yet.

I am grateful to that young woman, she saw something within these pages and took the time to reach out to me, it was a lovely gift and it touched my heart.

I cherish each of you, I just kind of thought you should now.

 

 

 

 

 

I Must Decide, but How?

I have a decision to make, it’s not a life altering one, but my choice will effect my family. I’ve been weighing the pros and cons of each option, and the weight of this burden is suffocating. It shouldn’t be this difficult.

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Both are things I must do, both have value. Why is it so hard to choose?

I know choosing one over the other will have repercussions, consequences I will have to face and I’m prepared to face them, but it’s like grasping hold of a double edged sword, praying I can balance its weight without injury.

Do I do what is best for my family or do I do what is best for me? An unanswerable question because when I do what is best for me, I am better equipped emotionally and mentally to care for my family, and when I do what is best for them, it fills me with a sense of fulfillment which in turn leaves me emotionally and mentally satisfied.

I know what I should do. I know what I want to do, but I want to do what I should do almost as much as I should do what I want to. The very fact that this makes perfect sense to me makes me wonder if I am overthinking this whole thing.

I could push myself and attempt both, but if I do, I fear I may not be capable of giving the time and attention required to do either to the best of my ability and my efforts will be in vain.

I don’t know what to do.

On one hand, the house really needs to be cleaned up, on the other hand, I just want to lock myself away and write.

Maybe I’ll just read a book today instead.

My Favorite Fun New App – WordPallette

I love words. hope that much about me is obvious. I love to learn new words. I love to play Scrabble, I love to complete word searches – pretty much anything that has to do with words, I love it. Except crosswords, I hate some of those ridiculously abstruse clues, and though I adore most all other wordy things, I’ve never tried magnetic poetry. Mostly because the idea of standing in front of the fridge peeling off and moving around magnets just doesn’t sound all that appealing to me, but the concept does.

Anyway, I was getting ready to do some laundry the other day, so naturally, I started browsing through the app store on my iPad. I’m always looking for fun, free writing apps to play around with. I noticed WordPalette right away. It looked pretty cool, loved the color scheme, and it was free. So I made it mine.

I have to say, I’m a little bit in love with it. Since I’ve never actually purchased a magnetic poetry kit I can only assume this is somewhat similar in that you have words to choose from and you create something wonderful with them.

The bottom rows of words can be swiped left and right, you just click and it appears at the top of the screen. You can switch to the keyboard if you want to make any changes, From the word choice screen, you can delete and add commas and periods. I started clicking away at words and in just a few minutes I had something that was actually kind of cool.

Once I clicked on that first word, I just kept clicking whatever seemed to fit with it. Switched to the keyboard, capitalized what needed to be capitalized (it doesn’t do that automatically after a period) and tweaked a couple of words, like changing consumed to consuming.

Seems to me this could be a great way to get the creative juices flowing, beat a bout of writer’s block, or just write something you would likely never think to write on your own. I added a screen shot of my first few minutes playing with WordPalette.

If you have it, or get it, which I totally recommend (I’m not getting anything for saying so), I’d love to read what becomes of your words!

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So this is what happened . . .

ProcrastinationI intended to write and post my Day Four – Blogging Challenge rambling on the fourth day from the first day I challenged myself with said blogging challenge, which means it should have been written and (hopefully) read by whomever may read my words on the 19th of March. I skipped a day (as it explains below) and began the post on March 20th. That was a while ago, today is April 27th. My 30 days have passed and I am just getting back on track with day four. Of course, no specific guidelines were set to specify the 30 days had to be consecutive, so failure to complete the challenge I challenged myself with, (and it has been a challenge to keep up with the challenge), Where was I? Ah, – So, failure to complete the challenge is not something I can be charged with. Not yet, I can’t predict the future of course, obviously or the events which impeded my progress may have been avoided, or at the very least worked in or around my schedule. Not that I have a schedule, it just sounds good when one says they do, which I don’t.

So here’s what happened. My sister had a baby. Ahead of schedule. Way ahead of schedule. (apparently no one in my family is great with schedules). As of today, she is still supposed to be curled up in my sister’s womb and getting ready to greet the world, she just couldn’t wait so all 4 pounds of her insisted her way into the world. She is beautiful and incredibly strong and I cannot wait to hold her in my arms. Little booger. One day, I’m making her pay me back for the ridiculously expensive last minute flights we had to book.

So I flew off to Oklahoma to watch my mother’s dogs and her home so she could fly off to Alaska to be with my sister and her earlier than expected teeny-tiny bundle of joy. Two days later I fell on a bit of uneven and jagged pavement, there was minor blood, quite a bit of pain to left sides of both feet, my right knee and right elbow (how I managed to hit to so many parts of me I’ve no Idea, I imagine anyone who might have witnessed my terrible tumble would have been impressed and likely overcome with laughter – I can assure you that would have been my reaction, filled with concern as well, of course. A trip to the ER, x-rays, (nothing broken, though I was sure I would be), three days of pain pills and two weeks of limping later and I was basically back to normal and watching my steps with slightly more care.

During that time, I dropped and shattered my phone on another bit of that uneven, jagged pavement. It spent the rest of my trip, right up to the day before we left in the repair shop.

The good – there was a lot of good.

I had time with my mom, just a couple of days before she left and nine more when she returned, not nearly enough, but I cherish every second with her.

Spending time with my precious daughter and her adorably wonderful husband. She keeps a piece of my heart there with her.

I got to hug my grandmother and my aunt and my beautiful little second-cousins, I didn’t hug my cousin though, I wanted to, but she was a few days away from a c-section and looked like she might bite, so we just sat and had a little visit.

The Half Price Bookstore. Aside from the family that reside there, this little shop is one of the best things about Oklahoma. Let’s just say I had to invest in extra luggage to bring home my acquisitions.

The non-California weather. The cool breezes, sitting on the porch in the darkest part of the night as rain poured and thunder boomed, watching the sky turn to day for a moment at a time with each strike of lightning.

There is more of course – good, great, blah, and blech, (more of the good than the rest), and it would take up more time than I have open on my schedule, at least on your schedule (you probably have one), plus, there is the car accident that happened shortly after we arrived home to tell you all about, so I will save whatever else I have to say for another day.

In the meantime, I’ll finish up Day Four of the blogging challenge and post it soon, you know, as soon as my schedule allows . . . For now, I’ll leave you with what I started before I closed the cover on this laptop over a month ago for an adventure in the real world –

img_1437Day Four – Your Dream Job

Day four of this 30 day blogging challenge, technically day 5 since I skipped yesterday, but I’ve already forgiven myself and moved passed the guilt, there wasn’t much guilt to absolve myself of, practically none as a point of fact. I did other worthy things instead. Hubby took me to my favorite place and I spent an hour (closer to two) roaming the aisles of the bookstore and perusing the back covers and inside flaps of books that caught my eye. I gathered up an armload of treasures, ordered a venti iced coffee (with half & half and classic sweetener) as well as a gluten-free rice krispie marshmallow bar in a crinkly cellophane wrapper and took up residence at a tiny, round table in the corner that was just big enough to stack my books, and place my coffee far enough from the edge to avoid a disastrous, and likely heartbreaking, spill.

My half of the table is always too full, my husband’s half typically has a neat stack of magazines upon which the current issue of whatever he is skimming lay open. Hot Bike, Hot Rod, Guns & Ammo – Yesterday there was even one with a photo of Martha Stewart on the cover. He complains we go to the bookstore too often, but he always goes. He gets frappuccinos sometimes and I always give him the last quarter of my rice krispie bar.

I did other things of note as well, I didn’t complain when we went to the hardware store and patiently waited while he stood before the selection of nuts and bolts and screws with almost as much intensity and scrutiny as I must have exhibited when faced with the new releases or the *now in paperback * display. As a side note, I prefer to have a collection of hardcovers, but my wallet appreciates the paperback prices. There were other things too, I ate, I breathed, I read, I watched Grimm. Just things. It was a chill kind of day.

I was supposed to be doing other things though. Laundry, making a grocery list, etc.. I tend to procrastinate my procrastination, as I am doing right now. I haven’t even broached the topic for day four, which is * your dream job *. Now that it has been broached, I’ll cease rambling and if you’re still following, tell you about my dream job.

When I was young I wanted to be many things, not the typical things my classmates aspired to be anyway. I dreamed of being an archaeologist, a big-rig truck driver, and a vampire, (a good one though). After I got my driver’s license I scratched truck driver off my list. I found out I did not like sharing the road with other drivers. I suppose in a rig I could’ve exacted my revenge upon the mindless masses that filled the highway, but those kind of fantasies are best left to wither. Sounds too much like the plot of a cheesy 80s film.

I nixed vampirism off my list as well, I never could find anyone to turn me and people thought I was weird when I asked. It’s not like I was a psycho or anything, I wasn’t going to feed on people, I’d be a vegan vamp or something. Whatever, it’s a dead dream.

So there was archaeology. I sort of, kind of, (not really even remotely) fulfilled that desire after I had children. My first digs (if you can call them that, and I just did) took place under couches and cushions and overfilled toy boxes in search of lost pacifiers and toys that couldn’t be lived without for even ten stinking seconds so I could pee. Eventually, my excavating prowess led me to the laundry bins where I sought out tiny treasures, bits of crayons, coins, wrappers, crackers, half eaten french fries, and the occasional hot dog. That happened. The list is extensive. Thank God I found that hot dog before it found it’s way to the spin cycle.

I did have one other dream in which I dreamed I would be a librarian, and I suppose that brings me to the point of this prompt. My dream job would be to be a librarian, but since we’re talking dream job here, I wouldn’t be an ordinary librarian in an ordinary library. No, no, no – I would be an extraordinary librarian in and extra-extra-extraordinary library. It would be called Bibliothece Ammirandus, or something cool and latin people would have to look up if they didn’t understand latin, which I don’t. I’m not even certain which would come first, bibliothece or ammirandus. I have a list of words to choose from, all cool and mostly unknown to the general public – 
To Be Continued . . .

Blogging Challenge Day 2 – I’m not sure I can do this.

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30 Day Blogging Challenge 

Day 2

~ 20 Facts About You ~

I thought this blogging challenge was going to be easy, but here it is, only day 2 and already I’m stuck. It’s not writer’s block, not this time. I’m facing an even tougher foe than that. I just don’t know how I am going to to do this. Seriously, who came up with this? 20 Facts About You? First of all, I don’t even know anything about you, let alone 20 things about you! I mean, I might recognize your screen-name or your avatar, I may have even chatted with you, but 20 things? I am feeling a little overwhelmed if I’m being honest. I so much want to follow through with this challenge though, so I’m going to give it all I got and hope I get it right.

  1. You are a human being.
  2. You have a lovely smile
  3. You wear shoes
  4. You’re reading this
  5. You woke up today
  6. Every year you have a birthday
  7. You blink
  8. You own more than one pair of pants
  9. You speak at least one language
  10. You’ve done something you’re proud of
  11. You have a secret
  12. You have a nose
  13. Sometimes you’re too hard on yourself
  14. You eat
  15. Someone loves you more than anything in the world
  16. There are floors in your home
  17. You have heard music
  18. Your fingers are attached to your hand
  19. You didn’t have teeth when you were born
  20. You are amazed I knew so much about you

I am amazed I knew so much about you! How invigorating! It’s like I’m suddenly psychic or something. Actually, that’s kind of creepy. I don’t think I want this much power – Hang on, my son is reading over my shoulder and insisting I stop typing and talk to him, he probably wants me to use my powers for something . . .

. . .

. . .

. . .

It seems, according to my son, that I have misunderstood the prompt for day 2. This is embarrassing. Apparently, I was meant to share 20 facts about myself, not you. That makes a lot more sense. A whole lot more sense.

Wait.

Does this mean I do not in fact possess any psychic abilities? I didn’t want them when I had them, OK, when I thought I had them – but now that they’re gone (I mean never existed), I’m a little bummed. Then again, I am pretty sure I nailed my list of 20 things about you, so maybe I do have a few special gifts. You don’t know, you’re not psychic.

Back to the challenge at hand – I DO know 20 things about myself, so it looks like I can scratch day 2 off my list with no worries. Here goes –

  1. I was born on the first day of summer. There was a rainbow. And a unicorn. That is not true, sorry about that. There wasn’t a rainbow. Okay, there wasn’t a unicorn, but there was a rainbow. I think. There probably should have been a unicorn though, because hello – unicorns are badass, as am I. My birth-date makes me unique, because I was born on the cusp, I am both Gemini and Cancer. Like I said, badass.
  2. My husband was my high school sweetheart. I still like him.
  3. I have 13 tattoos, obviously I’m just starting my collection.
  4. I have 11 piercings – before you ask, they are all on my ears. 6 on the left, five lobe, one cartilage. 5 on the right, 4 lobe, 1 tragus.
  5. I hate waking up in the mornings. Like, bring me coffee, don’t talk to me, don’t turn on a light, touch me,or breathe loud enough for me to hear, kind of hate.
  6. My dyslexic mother taught me to read when I was 4.
  7. I lived in a cabin the woods in Alaska when I was a little girl, I am talking serious homesteading hippie parents kind of living. They built the cabin. With logs they cut. I kid you not.
  8. I am the oldest child, explains much of my awesomeness and badassery.
  9. As of this year, 2016, I am entering into my 27th year of parenting and am proud to say I still retain a few functioning brain cells.
  10. I am an introvert. I like to say I am a misanthrope, but I’m not really. Not entirely. Can one be slightly misanthropic? Well, I am.
  11. The sound of chewing/crunching/whispering/paper-crinkling etc, drives me murderously insane.
  12. I am socially awkward, conservative, and love Jesus so most people make assumptions about who I am before they really get to know me. Which works out sometimes, you know – because of the whole introvert/slightly misanthropic thing I have going on. But seriously. It hurts to be judged. Stop it.
  13. I am obsessed with words. Writing them, reading them, learning them, saying them, spelling them, studying them. Word.
  14. I have read dictionaries for fun.
  15. I kind of hate talking on the phone. Or to people in general. You though, I’d totally talk to you. Maybe.
  16. I don’t drive on highways or freeways or expressways – whatever they are called, I don’t drive on them. It’s limiting, I am stuck to my part of town or wherever I can get to the round-about-way, but I manage.
  17. It usually takes me a day to read a book. Sometimes two, every now and then three days. If I’m busy and the book is long it could take longer, but I usually read kind of obsessively once I open one up.
  18. I am usually filled with a crippling self-doubt, I still say I am badass though.
  19. I enjoy intelligent conversation and wit, sarcasm done properly, and intellectual stimulation. A abhor ignorance and pettiness and meanness. Walks on the beach are fine until I get sand between my toes or seaweed touches me.
  20. I have four amazing children, I love my husband, my mother is my best friend, my sisters are my heart, I believe faith really can move mountains, or at least help us find our way around them, and I cherish those I call my friends who call me friend right back, loving me for me – quirks and craziness and all.

Alright then, there we have it. 20 things about you, 20 things about me.

~ Finis ~ 

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