Well, we are halfway through National Blog Posting Month 2018 and I have only missed 2 days. I am liking this challenge so far. I think I will team up with Nanopoblano every year because they offer support and diverse ways to blog and post new content during NaBloPoMo. Are you liking the way I am doing this challenge? Would you like to see me post daily photo challenges to Instagram? Leave me your thoughts below!
Today’s prompt was “something dangerous.” I wanted to share this poem that I wrote during National Poetry Writing Month this year, it is a triolet. It is about how young children are taken from their mothers to be soldiers in wars, in overseas countries.
War Infested Country
boys crush skulls under their boot heels who are barely old enough to tie their shoes they are told this is how men get their thrills boys crush skulls under their boot heels they are left to stand alone when the blood spills they drown out their conscience with booze boys crush skulls under their boot heels who are barely old enough to tie their shoes
Today’s prompt from the Somethingist Challenge was to a post about “something illuminated” so I thought I would share this poem. I wrote this on a Wednesday Night as Bible Study started. Our churches offer so many ways to help, but people do not take advantage. People are always saying they want answers, but then they say that they don’t have time for church. The answers to many questions that you have, about yourself, and about society, are in the Bible. People who go to church regularly know this, but are too afraid (or lazy) to invite friends to church. People who read their Bibles regularly find so much comfort by what they read, but yet they hesitate to recommend that book to friends when discussing books, or discussing how confusing life can be. Volunteering at the church brings so much confidence and fulfillment, but people want someone else to do it while they sit at home and complain about how they have nothing to do and no friends to do it with.
Lazy Christians drops of water hit the pond’s surface but make no ripple or echo corn stalks grow but produce no fruit words are spoken and heard but nobody moves no hand stirs the fields are furrowed and tilled but no one drops seeds then they cry as they starve wondering why nothing grew while seeds rot in the shed
I always publish a few blog posts late in the day when I do a month-long challenge. Today I need to post a poem about “something strong” for the Somethingist Challenge that I am doing for National Blog Posting Month. Give me your thoughts on this piece, in the comment section below.
Badges and Battles She wore her scars like badges like an army captain wears ribbon bars they told of the wars her body had fought and won of the battles waged that you forgot about
1-21-2018 This poem was inspired on Twitter by a #WrittenRiver writing prompt.
Today is Day 12. I thought I would share one of my haiku with you since that is normally what I share on Mondays. Life is fragile and fleeting. You are usually surprised to find yourself at a memorial service, even though they are often planned and talked about for a week beforehand. Sunsets, even though we get them every day, are temporary.
facing sunset the glow of a day gone memorial service
Day nine’s prompt is to write about “something substantial” so I chose one of my longer poems. I am getting the really fine lines around my eyes. I am approaching 32 and I am feeling my age. I don’t feel old, but I don’t feel 21 anymore. I am definitely in a new phase of my life. There are fewer weddings and more divorces, more graduations, fewer births. The funerals are far less surprising and come as often as anything else. It’s not a bad phase, it’s a comfortable phase. It’s easy to be complacent and just do the same ‘ol thing every week. But I try to be spontaneous and fun for my young son, and I try to stay in the know. I’m not dead yet!
As I shook out the blankets this morning I found a black feather on the bed. I haven’t seen them, but I see their tracks. In the melting snow I see faint outlines of crow’s feet. The caw caw that rings from the trees tells me that crows circle overhead. Their shadows darken my days. Crows like shiny things. They weave silver into my hair as I dream about my youth. A shadow flutters across my face lands at the corner of my eye and I feel the wind on my cheek. I hear not just the sound of the wind but the sound of flapping wings. They peck at my back and legs while I try to cheer at ball games making it hard to sit and hard to stand. The tracks they leave become dry river beds that have flash floods. Their shadows chill me and make me pray for the sun and its warmth. I only catch glimpses of them from the corner of my eye but I know they circle me.
Today’s prompt was “something displaced” so I looked through my longer poems and found one that got shoved into a drawer. Here is a poem about having to find your place when the world pushes you around and tries to bury you.
Rising From the Ashes
we are so embarrassed when we are cracked open, when we break and yet, only those of us who have been broken and pulled apart know what is inside of us to become a doctor or a nurse you will be given broken, bloodied bodies and it must be your hands that go inside until you’ve stitched up flesh or breathed life into someone failing to live you don’t know how precious life is and that second chances are handed out every day a phoenix must first writhe in pain must be consumed by the fire and laid in ash before she can rise and soar in a new day don’t be ashamed of the scars that you got from the fire your new wings are all anyone sees
Today is day 6 of National Blog Posting Month. I am doing the Somethingist Challenge and the prompt for today is “something possible.” Making your voice heard is possible! I hope you voted today. I hope you vote in all elections. I hope you send letters to the editor, and go to your town’s council meetings, and to parent-teacher conferences, and I hope that you speak up for the poor and the afflicted whenever and wherever you can.
They have forgotten what their tongues are for.
a flame among smoldering coals a shout among whispers everyone in the room stares wondering why I’m shouting they’ve forgotten they’re supposed to be shouting too they have forgotten what their tongues are for not just for eating not just for spreading rumor and hate we are supposed to move mountains love and hold up whole families with just our tongues the world grows cold but I am still aflame
Today’s prompt for the Somethingist challenge was “something damaged.” To keep myself from burning out, some days I am just going to post a poem instead of a long post. Also, I already posted a short and sweet haiku, so if you’re looking for short and sweet go to the haiku category! If you want cute pictures visit my Instagram.
The wax runs down the candlestick and pools in its holder. It is burning bright, bringing light to the whole house. It is hot from working so hard and that is why it melts, because it is putting its whole self into the work that it is doing. The candle gives pieces of itself away thinking that if it starts to lean that someone else will come along and give it some support. But much to the candle’s dismay, no one shows up when it starts to lean. The candle droops over, then breaks, and falls to the table. It is hurt and surprised that no one was there, or cared to check on it. So out of spite, it sets the tablecloth on fire.
This is my son about 4 or so years ago. He is barely bigger than the stack of pumpkins!
dot dot dot a labor of love mom’s tattoo 6-16-18
My friend was discussing tattoos with me I got to thinking about how tattoos are actually hundreds of little dots. She wanted dots in her tattoo for her daughter. I am sharing simple haiku this week. I think haiku can be fun and simple sometimes, it doesn’t always have to be super profound.
If you go to the main site here you will find a quick explanation of what I’m doing this month. The resources page is where I got this neat little badge/image that I will be adding to my nablopomo posts.
Today’s prompt is “something unlikely.”
Please remember that you can cheer us on by sharing the posts of those who are participating in National Blog Posting Month, and by leaving comments on our new posts.
I am going to try to share some of my longer poems with you and possibly write some new poems this month. I will post Monday through Friday every week. I may or may not post to the blog on Saturdays and Sundays. I may put those posts on Instagram instead, we’ll see. Follow me on social media or by email. I do not do newsletters or spam you in any way. You will only be emailed links to my new posts. It’s unlikely, I know – but it’s true!!
dying embers can be stirred ’til they burn hot and glow rosy red this is how wildfires start abandoned fire rekindled