Monthly Archives: November 2015

Writing 101-Day 18-Compose a series of Anecdotes

image-man at the wheel

“They That Go Down To the Sea in Ships”

‘Man at the Wheel’ Fisherman’s Memorial

Good Harbor=Beauport

Inner harbor-Back Shore

Bay View, Lanes Cove

Eastern Point, Twin Lights

Rocky Neck –Gloucester Fisherman,

Coast Guard Commander, Water Rescue

Navy Rank, Officer, Petty Officer, Ensign, Mate, Midshipmen, Captain,

Captain’s Courageous,

Aye ye Matey,

Stowaway locked in the bulkhead below,

Pirate Bar, Salty Dog

Accordion keeping time to sea shanties rhyme,

Prime Meridian lies across a wet salty desert,

Gulf, Gulls shrieking wail, Jonah, deck hands, mast, cast forth, cold and wet, wrinkled to the bone, rolling waves, port, starboard, helm, bow, stern, in irons, point of sail, beams reach, “keel hath beached upon the reef”, breech to port

And ….. Home!

Advertisements

Writing 101- Day 17-Map as your Muse

Naval Aviators Lost In Haze,

Seaweed in Longitude/Latitude Splays,

Sea to Wildest Seas Traversing,

Seafaring Lines Ceremonial Crossings,

Tropics of Cancer and of Capricorn,

Straits of Gibraltar, Magellan Reborn,

Sailing From Pollywogs to Shellbacks in Mass,

Sailors Beware As the Serpents They Pass,

King Neptune the Ruler of the Raging Main,

Realm of Czars above Davy Jones Reign,

Golden Dragon Traveling Time,

Poseidon’s Trident pointing in line,

30th Parallel Circumnavigation,

Admiral’s Nautical Mile Celebration.

Writing 101-Day 13-Play With Word Count-Clay Pots

Pottery-Wheel-2147283

Rich dark soil of human history,

Like a mug of steaming love,

Served in heavy, clunky pottery,

And delivered from above,

Spun by nimble hands,

Formed in our lands,

From earthy hearty clay,

The patina of,

The fragile porcelain glove,

We could not spin away.

 

Only now our memories will withstand,

The kilning fires we all stoke,

By our own weak hand, a choking smoke is fanned,

And what we fear we will invoke.

 

What if our thoughts and actions now,

Gave back all we took away?

Glazed not just with good intentions,

But with real sacrifice today.

 

Rich dark soil of human history,

A gift of nourishing natural grains,

Grown in heavy, clunky pottery,

And throughout our worldly plains,

Farmed by nimble hands,

Harvest of our lands,

From the earthy clay it rose,

But we couldn’t wait,

So we tempted fate,

And we stepped on our own toes.

 

Withstanding only in our memories now,

The organic grace we sought,

What has come about,

With our spiritual drought,

Is our abundance left to rot.

 

What if our thoughts and actions now,

Gave back all we took away?

Harvested not just with good intentions,

But with integrity today.

 

Dark heart of human history,

Will we learn from what we’ve done?

Broken heavy, clunky pots of clay,

What we are, we cannot outrun,

Though created by the nimble fingers,

Of the potter we once adored,

Our careless nature lingers,

And the warnings we ignored.

 

We can still hold all the blessings,

Back to basic human grace,

We must heal our lands and control our hands,

What we must conquer, we first must face.

 

Humility withstanding shame,

All false idols left to past,

We can return today,

To the simple clay,

From which each of us were all once cast.

 

What if our thoughts and actions now,

Gave back all we took away,

Men not just with good intentions,

But with real brotherhood today.

 

Rich dark soil of human history,

contains the dust from past mistakes,

we can always start a brand new pot tomorrow,

All we need is a lump of clay.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Writing 101- Day 16- Mine your own material

paper bridgePaper Bridges

Paper Bridges Span,

But they do not try to reach,

From heart to heart,

We read the plans,

In our own unspeakable speech,

Delicate as glass,

We smash designs our piers demand,

Never to interpret,

What the hearts language understands,

We listen with our stubborn voice,

What our minds do need to hear,

Pilings sunk in sand,

Cannot withstand,

Paper bridges built with fear.

Day 11: Update Your Readers Over a Cup of Coffee

My older daughter has been home for a visit from college for the past ten days. It is her first year away and I have missed her very much every day for the past 2 months. I even miss cosmetics strewn all over the bathroom counter, finding her dirty socks on the living room floor, and tripping over her shoes in the entry way. I miss the constant stream of giggling teenagers stopping by, and the art projects in progress on the dining table. It is too quiet without echoing pop music blaring during her exorbitantly long showers and the constant ping of snapchat alerts.  It has been great having her home this week but also very busy. I love to cook and made my daughter several of her favorite home cooked meals while she was here. I brought her to the mall, the doctor, the dentist, and to two movies.  My world still revolves around my girl. My artist, humanitarian, and scholar. I always drop everything to spend time with her and I will do anything for the opportunity to do for her. I love hearing how her day is and what she thinks about current events. I love looking into her beautiful innocent eyes and wiping away her tears. I love her big compassionate heart and her smart creative mind. I MADE THAT! And I am a PROUD MAMMA> Today my daughter went back to her school six hours and two states away.  She doesn’t even flinch or look back. Just a quick hug and wave out the window. She is ready to fly. I just sat quietly stunned on the deck with my coffee after she drove away with her trunk full of clean folded laundry.  I am not ready. What will I do when both of my girls are grown and gone for good? Who will I be when I am not their momma. Remembering my babies makes me laugh with joy, thinking about how proud I am of them makes me cry with gratitude, and reflecting on how quickly time flies by makes me panic a little inside.

Day 9: Writing and not writing

When I am not writing I am usually either focused on my family or my career.  I am a caregiver by nature and also by trade, I am a nurse and a mother. I am a big believer in being “All In” no matter what I am doing. Staying true to the here and now by letting go of work at home and visa versa is imperative to my sanity. My favorite way to reset and restore my energy before switching gears is just to take a walk alone in nature when I get home. I can sometimes literally feel the stress fall away. I live near a beautiful State Park and luckily the weather has been very mild so far this fall. Making time to talk to my family out east and getting together with friends are also important to me. I recently took a class with a friend and we started volunteering for my local fire department as first responders. It is good to be part of the community and part of a team. I also love cooking, laughing, cuddling on the couch, and listening to music. One thing that has always helped me most to take care of me is writing itself. Somehow just the act of jotting down my random thoughts helps my brain organize them.

Day 8: Reinvent the letter format

Dear Pizza,

Why do you tempt me with your cheesy deliciousness? Mocking me with the sweet aroma of your fresh carbohydrate laden, wood fired crust. Taunting me with every savory plum tomato in your rich smooth sauce, and flaunting your ample succulent steaming hot toppings. Your garlic pungency permeating my every olfactory sense in a beckoning swath of pleasure. Promising me a few minutes of ecstasy in exchange for pounds of regret. Oh the Humanity!

Writing 101 Day 7: Let social media inspire you

“I can’t decide if procrastination kills creativity or is essential to it.”

~Grant Snider

https://twitter.com/grantdraws/status/460764353961013248

I am Feeling uninspired,

In my messy, muddled mind,

I hope I’ll focus my attention soon,

And catch up from behind.

I start too many projects,

And have way too much to do,

So I’ll sit here doing none of it,

And I’ll start on something new.

When my imagination takes me, on a journey till the end,

I’ll know I’m finally really over, my procrastination trend.