I feel old
like creaky leather
an ancient crone
in freezing weather
tomorrow’s Monday
another battle
snow in the forecast
hear my bones a’ rattle
I feel all dried up
earth turned to dust
like a beat-up car
that’s begun to rust
the world has tipped
and warmth is lost
winter bites with hunger
and drools with frost
I was not made for a world of snow and ice. My feet freeze and I need sunshine. If it weren’t for family, I’d live near a beach somewhere. I hope you are all well.
AJM
the second week of February
hit me pretty hard
I’m low on serotonin
scraping ice off my car
the winter wind
is biting at my face
as we try to stay warm
to insulate our place
the heat bill is so high
we’ll have to sell a kidney
just to pay are rent
(I’m really not kidding)
then in world news
a president breaking laws
an ignorant population
who can’t see his flaws
I’m struggling to stay awake
’cause I don’t really sleep
to wake up from this nightmare
watch the promises he keeps
snow melts and freezes
the road goes black to white
I’m on the sofa sneezing
will anyone stand and fight?
Whose yard is this? The dogs. (I know)
They both like it covered with snow
And lake-like puddles on the ground
And squishy grass that’s hard to mow
They will chew their sticks to the sound
Of wind blowing their ears around
With snow that bites with winter’s chill
They chew, oh — another stick found!
And the dogs always get a thrill
Smelling bunnies and things to kill
Noses to the ground, at my side
They sniff until the world grows still
The yard is icy, cold and wide
And I continue to abide
Please, it is time to go inside
Please, it is time to go inside
This poem is inspired by Robert Frost’s Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening, but obviously with a less serious and sillier theme. I had the pattern of this poem in my head while out walking the dog one evening and I thought it might be fun to play around.
Wishing everyone a meaningful Martin Luther King Jr. Day.
If you’ve liked what you’ve read, check out my poetry book, Walking in Cemeteries available for purchase here.
a brand new sherpa
draped over the furniture
it isn’t dirty yet
or covered in dust
it doesn’t have dirt or stains
or mud
a virgin snow
untouched
by the long, dark
or the salt that curses the roads
beautiful
innocent
it is the puff
of fresh air
on your lips
Happy New Year!!! Got any New Year’s Resolutions this year?
This New Year’s was kind of pathetic for Mike and I. It was too cold to go anywhere, so we just hung out with a friend, watched the ball drop and then went to bed. We didn’t even drink!! How lame.
Anyway, it was nice and relaxing, though. And it was kind of fun to see all the announcers on ABC, (people who we don’t really like that much anyway) freeze their asses off in the New York weather. Bahahaha!
I think New Year’s Resolutions are kind of hokey, but it is basically a list here like any other; and for us anxious types, lists are great for organizing thoughts, chores, goals, work, etc.
Here are my New Year’s Resolutions for 2018:
1. Write More
This goes without saying, really. If I’m going to get something published, I need to write. Even when I am feeling down and tired from work. No, note to self: YOU SHOULD WRITE when you are tired from work. This is where I find my purpose. When I feel like I am truly doing what I’m supposed to be doing.
2. Read More, especially some new books!
I have several books on my bookcase that I haven’t read. And yet, I will still buy something new at the bookstore. I can’t seem to help myself. I will let books fill my life until I am drowning in them. I will breathe in the pages and choke on the words and I will never be satisfied that it is enough, even when they’re piled around me and I get anxiety about deciding what to read next. Huh…do I have a problem? Maybe. Just maybe.
3. Exercise, Eat Healthy, Take Care of Yourself
Tomorrow it’ll be in the negatives. No, I will not be going outside for a jog. But still, I need to remember to drink TONS of water, I never drink enough when it’s cold outside. I’ll also bundle up like a burrito in front of the TV. But I don’t need to eat cookies every night. Even though I want them…and they want me.
4. Make New Friends
It’s hard to put yourself out there when you spend all day being customer-servicey and you just want to shut yourself away from the world for a while after work. I need to find a writer’s group.
5. Find Writer’s Group
This isn’t the last because it’s the least important. Really it’s the last because I just thought of it…but this could be what I need to keep motivated, make new friends, AND get some writing done. So, really this is an essential part of getting a few things on this list done. I think I could be brave enough? Eee…baby steps! I know I can. This would be a good thing for me.
Anyway, that’s it…what about yours? Got any New Year’s Resolutions of your own that you want to share?
Happy Writing!
It’s snowing outside, tiny flakes coming down from the sky in all directions, swirling chaotically around cars and the pavement outside my window.
View from my office window.
Naturally this makes me want to write, of course. I don’t know what it is…maybe because it’s warm in our apartment, I woke up refreshed (finally) after a good nights sleep and I have the day off from work.
Maybe there’s something in the way that snowy sleepy days naturally put me in a thoughtful mood, and thoughtful moods generally lead to writing…if I were a painter, I’d paint the heck out of a glorious snowy day, but alas, the best brush I have, is the brush of words on blank, blank paper.
And of course, the last sentence I just wrote had me thinking about haiku poems. It’s been ages since I’ve written one…not since college three years ago. I found a refresher at this website, here.
(From the website:) The haiku is a Japanese verse in three lines. Line one has 5 syllables, line 2 has 7 syllables and line three has 5 syllables. Haiku is a mood poem and it doesn’t use any metaphors or similes.
View of the moon and snowy trees at my Grandma’s house, the evening of Thanksgiving.
I don’t usually think of myself as a poet. My advance poetry teacher in college said to me once, “You are definitely a fiction writer.” And that seemed to cement the idea in my brain. He didn’t mean to say that I was inept at poetry, just that eventually all writers make a choice, and I am a lover of stories and so naturally fiction was my style of choice.
But lately, I am constantly reminded by poetry why writing descriptive, lyrical words are so important. Why some fiction is just poetry in an extended form. In a single poem, an image is created in just a few words. I think poetry is a great way to remind fiction writers how important it is to show, not tell what is happening in the story, but to focus on the concise, and descriptive words.
Here’s some haiku of my own. Some silly, some serious, some not really haiku poems at all, but all poetry:
The bright yellow sun shines
through icicles hanging
on the windowsill
icicles remind
us to mind the cold weather
bundle up you beasts
dogs don’t like the snow
wagging their tails between gusts
shivering snow and wind
the snow swirls around the pavement
children walk by with parents
hands howling in their gloves
So much depends upon a red wheelbarrow…
(Just kidding! haha…can’t get this poem out of my head for some reason! For those that don’t know this is the start of a poem, “The Red Wheelbarrow,” by William Carlos Williams. I remember there were those that either loved it or hated it in my poetry class. There was a great debate that followed about it.)
And lastly, another haiku of my own:
The dead of winter
snow falls down on black pavement
eat lunch, eat sunlight
This has been a lot of fun for me this afternoon. Feel free to comment with your own, if you like!
Happy Writing!
Author’s Note:
Thanks all for the comments on Friday post, I haven’t decided what I’ll post that day, but I am leaning towards some kind of continuation story. Couldn’t think of what to post tonight, so went to the writing prompt app on my phone and came up with this post. Who knows, maybe it’ll be a story idea for later. 🙂 Hope everyone is having a great night!
Happy writing!
Writing Prompt # 34: You are at a restaurant when someone you know shows up. They make their distaste for you evident to the people you are with.
I was on a date with my boyfriend. I got the fried chicken with mashed potatoes. The potatoes were good, but the chicken was a bit dry and stringy. I chewed on a forkfull as I watched the steak wander around in my boyfriend’s mouth. Maybe we’d been too quick to make things official, I guess I didn’t realize how narrow his face was, how his mouth looked like a duck when he chewed. I choked on the bite of food in my mouth as I saw a body appear next to his left shoulder. I saw a bright pink scarf and followed it up to a bright, shiny face, and pink lipstick. Her face literally shown, like a Angel’s, I’d forgotten the way her blond hair framed her face, the way her blonde curls bounced and curved next to her upper lip. The place where I had kissed her freckles dozens of times.
“Jewel, God,” I choked on my chicken as Andrew glanced up at her standing behind him. “What are you doing here?”
“I might say the same to you,” she said with that pucker of her pink mouth. I never understood how she managed to be so sweet and so mean at the same time.
I stirred potatoes around on my plate, mushed them into soggy green beans. “I’m not sure what that’s supposed to mean.”
“Oh, I think you know,” she said.
Andrew glanced up at her, eyes narrowed. “Have we met before?”
“Andrew, this is Jewel. She’s an…old friend of mine,” I said.
“Ex-girlfriend,” she clarified, with a hand on her hip. I tried to hold back my laughter as Andrew choked on a his water.
I tried my sweetest smile. “Did I forget to mention her, sweetie?”
His duck mouth pursed with obvious distaste. “I think we ought to go home. Are you finished?”
I looked sadly down at my chicken. “It tasted like shoe anyway.”
Jewel was standing there silent during our exchange. As we got up, she gave me this look. It was a look that lasted a second, but felt like a lifetime for me. “We should talk,” she said.
I pulled on my coat, as Andrew stood there, his eyes dark. “Later,” I murmured.
“Are you ready yet?” said Andrew.
I gave him a dark look. It was cold outside, negative two degrees last time I checked. It was a kind of cold that really did bite at the extremities. If my boyfriend was sending out chills, Jewel’s expression was warm. Probably warmer than it should have been, given the situation. I didn’t know what to make of that.
“Later,” I murmured again, as her eyes followed me out the door. I brushed my hair out of my eyes and sighed. “Later.”
It was a comfort knowing I would no longer be talking to my myself anymore.
A. J. Morse 