6 Years of Blogging

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red squirrel

taking a walk on the trail

my son chases him

  7-23-17

 
 

Today is my blogging anniversary. I’ve been chasing this lifestyle for 6 years now. I have enjoyed it and I plan to continue. Life has not gone where I wanted it to, and I’ve been hit with quite a few sad surprises that have affected my writing this last year. Depression wants to creep in and take over, but I am finding ways to combat that. Surprisingly this time around, writing has not been my main outlet. Prayer and meditation have been. Prayer has always been a part of my life, but rarely the main part. For the last year, daily prayer (as in Quiet Time that lasts for an hour or more) and reading Christian self-help inspirational books, and caring for my son (of course!) has been my main focus. But I am writing here and there.
The haiku above is one of my newest. I hope to start writing more regularly soon. I plan to blog more than once a week from here on out. Thanks for reading, and leaving me such great comments! I hope you all are writing regularly and are brave enough to share it.

 

poet symanntha renn failing at haiku image

Haiku for National Poetry Month

Current status: Looking for my muse.

Hey Everyone! Sorry I have been absent this last week. Thank you to those of you who followed me in spite of my lack of posts last month. I am going to try to make up for it. I am going to try to post a poem every weekday this month. I will post haiku but I will also post longer forms of poetry. I am planning on posting some older poems. I may not always write a comment with the poem, I may just post the poem. I haven’t written much yet this year, which is concerning considering that we are four months through the year. But I think this summer is going to be great and I’ll find time for writing. My muse must be wearing camouflage and hiding amongst my budding flowers.

just blades of grass
daffodils with no blooms
my mouth no words

5-6-2015

daffodils coming up

Day 21 NaHaiWriMo 2017

we wish on dying stars

and tell the children they will bring us luck

the rabbit shakes his head

 

Today’s prompt was “falling.” I didn’t want to use the word in my poem, so I wrote this. It is too long to be a proper haiku, but do remember what the name of this blog is…

You can follow me on Instagram and Twitter and Facebook.

scribbles in a notebook,poetry notebook,writing,blogging,haiku,writer,poet,

Symanntha Renn

Day 17

the night dark and cold

but she rises anyway

full moon shines brightly

Today’s prompt was “moon”. I have written so many moon haiku, but tried to give it one more shot for today’s challenge. This poem is about perseverance. 

You can follow me on Instagram and Twitter and Facebook. You can also follow me by email when you scroll all the way to the bottom of this post and click follow, or by WordPress Reader when you click follow in the bar at the top.

scribbles in a notebook,poetry notebook,writing,blogging,haiku,writer,poet,

Symanntha Renn

Day 8 NaHaiWriMo 2017

opening the door

not ready to face the day

slow blooming flower

Today’s prompt is “opening.” My brain is trying to go in 3,000 different directions at once, so this is the haiku you get today.

To see my haiku from last year click on the nahaiwrimo tag at the top of this post. To see all of my haiku click the haiku tag. You can also do this for Categories.

If you are like what I am writing, you can follow me on Bloglovin’ and Twitter and Facebook and Instagram.

scribbles in a notebook,poetry notebook,writing,blogging,haiku,

Symanntha Renn

Day 3 NaHaiWriMo 2017

apple varieties

when diversity makes 

us happy

Today’s prompt was the letter “A” and this is all I could come up with. What do you think?

If you would like to learn more, stop by the Facebook page where most of us poets meet to get a prompt and share our work.

scribbles in a notebook,poetry notebook,writing,blogging,haiku,

Symanntha Renn

 

Day 2 NaHaiWriMO 2017

the strength of the cow

forgotten until she flexes

hidden muscles

 

Today’s prompt was “is” or the essence of being.

Haiku: A haiku is a short poem that uses imagistic language to convey the essence of an experience of nature or the season intuitively linked to the human condition. A short poem originating from Japan. The point of this type of poetry is to record a moment. They are usually about nature. You usually don’t see the word “I” in haiku and 2 or more haiku are still called ‘haiku’ not ‘haikus’.
An ideal haiku should be short/long/short. Modern haiku found in most of today’s journals are not 5/7/5.

To learn more about haiku go to my What is Haiku? page at the top.

To learn more about other poetry forms go to my Definitions Page at the top.

scribbles in a notebook,poetry notebook,writing,blogging,haiku,

Symanntha Renn

Day 1 NaHaiWriMo 2017

watching to see if

I can catch a butterfly

in my hands

It’s that time of year again, time for the shortest form of poetry in the shortest month. I will try really hard to post my haiku poem every day. I make no promises about at what time that will happen nor how great it will be. All I can say is… stay tuned.

The prompts look like they will be fun and engaging this year. Today’s prompt was to write a haiku about haiku. How do you think I did?

Even if you don’t write haiku, or even if it isn’t your favorite type of poetry, please consider sharing poets’ work this month. It is getting harder to share your stuff on social media as all of the sites like Facebook now hide your posts, in hopes that you will pay to make them appear. So please subscribe or follow me, and any other poets that you like, and check out the hashtag #NaHaiWriMo on Twitter.

Also, to make life easier on myself, this is the image that will be attached to all of my 2017 haiku posts.

scribbles in a notebook,poetry notebook,writing,blogging,haiku,

Symanntha Renn

Haiku in my flowerbed.

in my flowerbed

I want some bleeding hearts

but no one listens to me

 

I could have sworn I already posted this haiku, but apparently not. I might start sharing Louis L’Amour’s poetry in March. He didn’t write a lot, but what he did write was great. Who wants to read some L’Amour?  Leave me a comment below!

2016 Year in Review

poet symanntha renn failing at haiku image

So this year, WordPress decided to not help us make a blog post that reviewed our year. See my Twitter feed for details. Well, that’s about par for the course. 2016 has been a difficult and odd year. So I decided to whip one up myself. Do you look forward to reading “in review” posts from bloggers? I would love to hear your answer in the comments.

Also, I promise to try to be more hopeful and upbeat in 2017. This next year will be good if we all try really hard to make it be good together.

     Top 5 posts by views

Delayed Reaction

FF | Third Wheel

FF | Good Memories

FF | First Holiday Together

Halfway Through 2016 and I’m Back

     Top 5 posts by likes

Escaping the King 23

The Kind Baker 24

Good Memories 25

Dark Nights 26

The Last Resort 26

                (These are also my top Liked Friday Fictioneer posts.)

I did not get as many views as last year, but I did take 30 days off in June, in which I did not post or promote my blog. But the difference wasn’t that much, 870 fewer views this year than 2015. If I can get 900 more views in 2017 I’ll be a happy writer.

Thank You, Dear Readers

picture by symanntha renn,photo,blog banner,

  Cooking
the smell of pork roast
first time always turns out
replicating my
victory is what is hard
more than a flash in the pan

  1-31-2016

Thank you all so much! I am now at 705 followers! I asked more of you to follow this blog two weeks ago on Monday, October 24th and you did. By the next day, I was at 700 followers and the number has stayed up!

Thank you for reading my work. Thank you for seeking me out. Thank you for following me on Twitter and on Facebook. Thank you for leaving me comments. I appreciate every Follow and every Like I get. I appreciate the retweets and all of the other shares as well.

Thank you for staying with me as this blog changes. Thank you for joining me as this blog is in the midst of change. I posted my last quote on Monday of this week. While I love quotes, those have never been the most loved posts by my readers. My short stories have quickly become my most liked type of post on this blog. While I will try to write a short story and post it by Friday night, my heart is in poetry. I plan to share a haiku that you have never read before, every Monday, as always.

This tanka was inspired by a #fieryverse prompt.

A look at my poems from the last 17 years.

Since I have written over 900 poems I thought that  I would post some my poems here just for fun. Here are some of my poems that I have written on my 17-year journey. I have been writing since 1999. I wrote my first poem (The Run) when I was 11 so keep that in mind as you read through these. I meant to write this post in my 15th year of writing, but being a mom and getting a serious job has re-arranged my world.
Now, for those of you who would like to walk through my work, here you go:
 
#1 The Run
I am wheelchair bound until he says good riddance. This cast I say is a lot of pain
 
I don’t regret the pain for now my troubles are slain. Now I can run wild and free.
 
I used to walk high, now I walk with pride. I am loved by all. Now I can run like all.
 
They left me behind, but now they are blind, by the dust in their eyes.
 
Though I may moan I have backbone. Now I can walk out the door before they lock the door.
 
My mind says “No” but my heart says, “Go!” So watch now as I flow, run, skip, hop, jump, prance, and walk perfectly.
 
#100 Making the World Right
Sneaky fingers reaching out for my mind
Gut emotions squeezing my sides
Blindfolded people swinging out with clubs
Hateful words stinging the ears
Tears soaking my face, hiding truth
Hands gripping, holding on to the only clear thing
Love breaks through in the form of lips
Honeysweet words dance across skin
Flowing into ears sorting out truth
Love conquers all chasing away evil and hate
And at the end of the night, my world is just right
 
#200 Panic in the Forest (published on Poet Daily)
Like a wounded deer struggling in the snow,
I fear I’ll never rise again.
The fear makes it hard to breathe
 
makes the world seem so cold.
I see the blood dripping on the snow
and the panic chokes me.
 
Everything spins and I get dizzy.
I can’t get my legs under me.
The ground so solid comes rushing up
 
I am still…
 
#300 Thanksgiving at Grandma’s
We wipe the wet leaves off of our feet
and step into the warm house to look around,
thankful for several things including heat.
I put the food on the table
and go to the freezer to check out the desserts.
They’re all old favorites, none need a label.
I make my way back to the front of the house
an aunt grabs me and talks about how the kids have grown.
Someone makes a nice comment about my blouse.
We notice who has cut their hair and who has let it grow.
Some admit to dyeing their grays as we talk about age.
A baby toddles over, what a cute bow!
As we wait for the turkey to be carved,
we can smell the corn, stuffing, and gravy,
and we talk about how we’re starved.
After the Blessing is said, we line up,
and dip out food onto Styrofoam plates
walking in a circle, holding our cup.
Most find a place to sit, but some stand.
Someone mentions the cousin we wish was here
and not fighting in a strange land.
Later we talk about the kids and arrange
what kid got who this year,
we draw for the exchange.
We give long hugs and decide what to bring
next month when we get together for Christmas,
once again the doorbell will ring.
 
#400 Silent Battlefield
The battlefield at Carthage is silent now.
As silent as it was 150 years ago
before the people there grew angry
and a small creek ran red with blood.
It was a part of The Civil War
but there was nothing civil about it.
Brothers stabbed brothers
in the land of the free.
Guerillas bushwhacked soldiers
in the home of the brave.
More concerned with state’s rights than men’s
they shed blood on ground that did not care
about the color of the hand that tilled it.
Today that small wood is still
except for the singing of the birds.
The only dark place is the small cave.
Giggling children fail to realize the horror
that once stomped through these fields.
Some people still smell the powder burning
but they are relics soon to be stored
like the guns and uniforms at the museum.
It is a peaceful park now, with gentle shadows
and only signs to remind us of the war.
©Symanntha Renn 6-10-12
 
#500 untitled
traveling the road to work
same hawk in the tree
is he bored by me
 
#600 untitled 
my mouth can barely
contain the anger rising
poked rattlesnake
 
#700 Soft Like Velvet
They were red
soft like velvet
and smelled great.
But I didn’t know
it was the end
I didn’t know they
were graveyard roses.
 
#800 untitled
porcelain blue frog
doesn’t eat the red wasps
he is a fake
 
#900 untitled
traditional red
I have always liked the classics
rose bush
 
my latest: #
old hopes and dreams
erasing pins and deleting links
flowers that didn’t bloom
9-21-2016
 
poet symanntha renn failing at haiku image