NaPoWriMo Day 1

I wrote these last night onto my phone. Little did I know that the early bird prompt was of prose and haiku.

I fold the words, clouds
Sailing on seas blue, endless,
Purposeful, loving.

this telling of sky:
the love it holds out to clouds
protective of stars.

Scooping up the wind
Directing it now to hills,
Now to the river

So I’m off to a month of poems, today combining haiku and sonnet-form.

I fold the words, clouds creased on seas blue
endlessly sailing, purposeful of love
This telling of the sky, holding out stars
protective, small repeated gesturing
which sweeps the night, trees clattering with wind
in between, the stars refrain the chatter
popping with glint until clouds win again
and the night shivers with rain, falling cold.
Going out to see what is in the world
Stepping off the porch, rain or snow or clear
The world travels in its late night journey
Far off the train sings or an owl calling
Far off the house seems, a few steps further
past the tree to learn what of the night.

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Starting April*

This came up as a memory and one that’s good to recall. These days we need all the encouragement we can get. 

I believe that man will not merely endure: he will prevail. He is immortal, not because he alone among creatures has an inexhaustible voice, but because he has a soul, a spirit capable of compassion and sacrifice and endurance. The poet’s, the writer’s duty is to write about these things. … The poet’s voice need not merely be the record of man, it can be one of the props, the pillars to help him endure and prevail. – William Faulkner, Nobel Prize Acceptance Speech

*  When I first typed this title it was “Staring April” and I almost left it. Sometimes you stare into the abyss and sometimes it stares back. April can be like that. It’s also National Poetry Writing Month, a real push to just get on with it. 

Posted in From the Quote Box, NaPoWriMo, Ripped from the headlines, the creative process, words | Tagged , , , | 1 Comment

The Last of March, Waiting For April

Don’t let the door hit you on the way out March! Been real, now get outta here!

It’s blowing and howling and sleeting and icing… all because it’s the end of March.

That means tomorrow is April first, the first day of National Poetry Writing Month and National Poetry Month. I hope to again write at least a poem a day and as is traditional, I’m full of anticipation about what to do and whether there should be a little side project.

It’s just that moment of waiting and wondering. Tomorrow it will be what it will be. Thirty days of writing. And maybe a side project.

Here, you can have a little Emily Dickinson while we’re waiting for April.

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Thursday, Happy Birthday Vincent

Last night brought a return of the cold that knocked me down not so long ago… Not even the Quils seemed to touch it. This morning – no voice at all for awhile. What can you do other than be glad for spare boxes of tissues and a hearty supply of tea and a speedy electric kettle?

Did this one the other day.

Today would have been Vincent Van Gogh’s 164th birthday so here’s a painting to thank him for the inspiration.

This was done using a photo I took recently while driving a back road that well, if I’d known it was a bit of mud-season going on, I would not have gone anywhere near it. Took a long time to get rid of all the mud. Wasn’t it nice though of someone to put up a bright snow fence?

Posted in Do the Work, In the neighborhood, taking time to look, the creative process, VanGogh, watercolor | Tagged , , , , | Comments Off on Thursday, Happy Birthday Vincent

Wet into wet on a wet day

Wet and drying

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