Q — NaPoWriMo

OK, today’s the day – Q is here at last!

Quixotic quilter
one day decided to write
poems and a novel.

Quixotic journey
between writing and quilting
two different roads

A quilter today
and a writer tomorrow
and both every day

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The dark before night

The wind blew in some interesting weather this afternoon.

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Writing Advice

The best advice I know to give is to learn to put up with boredom and frustration. You have to sit through the dull times when nothing’s coming and stay there, for however much time you’ve given yourself to write, even then. It doesn’t have to be all day that you do this — it could be an hour, two hours maybe — but the ability to just stay there in the face of soul-wearying emptiness, that has to be developed just like any muscle. Because that’s what imagination is: a muscle, and it has to be worked out. So you sit there in the face of nothing, or you write gibberish you know you’re going to toss the next day. But you stay there. You work at it. You fill the time. And gradually, the empty days grow fewer, and the frustration periods shrink. You never lose them entirely, but they shrink. — Peter S. Beagle, author of The Last Unicorn

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Time for a re-read? From the Quote Box

Look at every path closely and deliberately. Try it as many times as you think necessary. Then ask yourself and yourself alone one question. . . Does this path have a heart? If it does, the path is good. If it doesn’t, it is of no use. — Carlos Castenada

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Day 19 Landays – NaPoWriMo

NaPoWriMo.net suggested trying our hand at Landays which I had been taken with when the Poetry magazine devoted an issue to them.

Landays
A form of folk poetry from Afghanistan. Meant to be recited or sung aloud, and frequently anonymous, the form is a couplet comprised of 22 syllables. The first line has 9 syllables and the second line 13 syllables. Landays end on “ma” or “na” sounds and treat themes such as love, grief, homeland, war, and separation.

So here are a few, since today is an off day for the A to Z Challenge so there are no haiku needed.

Daffodils, yellow and white, all frills,
bursting forth at last, the waiting for spring is fulfilled

Each day I sit with places you’re not,
your dear absence brushes past me as I leave the room

I spoke but most curtly to you sir
when you pointed out the matching color of our socks

Posted in NaPoWriMo, Poetry and Lyrics | Tagged , | 2 Comments