Wednesday, December 31, 2014

Wednesday Writing: Free Writing

You may be catching on to my new trend: a schedule!  There will be recurring theme days each week, so you're guaranteed at least three posts a week (for now, anyway).  This isn't to say that unthemed posts will stop, but it does mean that at least three times a week I'll be giving you new work/ideas/etc.  Hooray for structure!

Wednesdays will be all about writing itself.  I don't want to just throw my writing at you, I'd like to be helpful too!  I'll explain my methods, my advice to other writers, and focus on the art of writing on Wednesdays.  I'd love to take requests, too: If you have a specific problem, leave a comment or email me at and I'll do my best to help you out!  I'm not an all knowing writing goddess (maybe demigoddess though), so if I can't answer you on my own, I'll take the time to confer with others who possess greater wisdom than mine to help solve your problem.  'Cause we're tight like that.

Starting Out....

Sometimes the hardest part about writing is getting those creative juices flowing in the first place.  I don't know about you, but once I get started it's almost impossible to stop.  Once I get started being the key phrase.  I have a few favorite ways to jump start things when I feel the urge to write but can't put anything on the page or the screen.  Today I'll cover one of my favorites:

Free Writing: Just. Write.  It really is that simple.  Set a timer, sit down, start writing, and don't let your hand stop moving until the timer goes off.  Don't worry too much about what you're writing.  Don't worry at all if it's grammatically correct--breathe, deep breaths, and keep writing.  I like to start out with some kind of writing prompt, but you can go with whatever is in your head.

If you run out of ideas, just write, "I don't know what to write I don't know what to write what the heck am i doing i really don't know what to write right now geez when is this timer going to go off seriously it's been forever didn't i only set that thing for five minutes..." Or something like that.  Just keep going until your brain wanders into something else.

Okay, so your timer finally went off and you've got five minutes worth of absolute gibberish written down, right?  Maybe.  Read through it.  You may have absolute gold in there, you just need to pull it out and refine it.  Maybe a little, maybe a lot.

Or it might be complete crap.  That's okay!  Now you've written a bunch of crap, gotten the bad writing out of the way, cleared the pipes (so to speak), and you can get down to writing the good stuff!  It took me a long time to realize that it's okay to write crappy stuff sometimes.  We've all got it in us, we just have to get rid of it in the right place.  Like in a free write.

Now, I personally prefer to do my free writes by hand, writing on actual paper.  Maybe in a notebook, three ring binder, whatever.  I like to use a pen, too.  Pencil is too tempting to go back and erase, and so is typing.  It's too easy that way.  Writing it out by hand in pen helps me feel the flow of the words.

One final piece of advice on free writes: keep them.  Sometimes it takes a while to realize the value of what you wrote.  Keep your writing together somewhere, and look over it occasionally.  Today you may think everything on the page is junk, but after some time you just might discover an amazing diamond in the rough.

Monday, December 29, 2014

Happy Monday!

Mondays can always use a little more happy, so I've decided that Monday postings will be happy, cheery posts!  Sometimes I'll post my own happy poem, sometimes someone else's work, and who knows what else?  I've got to keep you on your toes, so expect the unexpected.  That being said.... I'm totally starting with what you'd expect: my own poem!  (Don't judge me.)

It's not snowy outside my window right now, but it sure is frosty, and I hate the cold.  I miss summer. Thinking about summer makes me very, very happy, and thinking about pleasant childhood summers makes me even happier.  Plus, it's a poem about food.  Who doesn't love that??

"Strawberry Summer"

Strawberries taste like
Childhood summers:
Grown in a small garden
Next to a little shed
Picked by still growing hands
Washed in a tiny kitchen
And devoured

Not chocolate covered
Whipped cream topped
Or sugar coated
The only garnish
Was the juice
Dribbling down
A smiling chin
And wiped
Across cherub cheeks

Friday, December 26, 2014

New Vibe

Gotta find a new jive
gotta find a new jive
new flow
new rhythm
gotta find my new place
new space
working it in a new way
talk this way
that way
your way
my way
our way

which way?

Gotta find a new jive
gotta find a new jive
new vibe
new feel
way to be
keep it real
move along
don't let go
chit chat
giggle giggle
laugh out loud
smile real wide

Gotta find a new jive
gotta find a new jive
doing doing doing

but how we feeling?
how's our hearts?
they're aching
they're smarting
they're feeling
they're healing

Gotta find a new jive
gotta find a new jive
keep it going
keep love flowing
stand together
lean when needed
brace each other
needs exceeded
need what?
need us
need you
need we
need them
all of them
every one
every prayer
every tear
every warm hug
kind glance
loving smile

Gotta find a new jive
gotta find a new jive
jive in love
love the jive

love more--
give love,
take love--
just love.

Wednesday, December 24, 2014


While browsing #poetry on Twitter the other day, I came across terminology for poetry I've already written: micro poetry.  Usually it's less than ten lines, some places put a character limit on things, but basically it's super short poetry.

Often I've felt like I'm cheating when I write short poems, but sometimes that's simply all that's needed.  To discover there is a niche out there that thrives on short poetry was exhilarating!  I even found a site called  So when I felt inspired tonight and the product was tiny, I didn't fuss, I'm simply putting it into the micro poetry genre.


I felt so unfinished--
like a sweater half-knit:
a waiting edge
of loose ends
waiting to be

Monday, December 22, 2014


Tears of anger burn
as they wrench themselves
out of my eyes
in searing streams
down my cheeks.

Tears of sadness weep
their own melancholy tears
along their slow procession.

Tears of pride strut
casually and approvingly
surveying with satisfaction
as they hop off my jaw.

Tears of laughter jiggle
from the corners of my eyes
and wiggle across my face
as my head tips back.

Tears of joy shiver with glee
dancing on my eyelids
traipsing their way to my chin

Tears of love,
just love.

Saturday, December 13, 2014

Oh, for Laughing Out Loud!

"Goodness, Henry!
What is that woman laughing about?
Look at her!
She's in hysterics!
Well, no, it's not odd that she'd laugh,
not in general.
But just look--
      she won't notice--
She's entirely alone!
What could be making her laugh so?"

"Oh, God, they hear me!
Well, clearly, everyone hears me.
Oh, but it's just too funny
for a silent smile
or even a little giggle.
Oh, the hilarity of it
deserves a good hearty laugh,
and so I shall!"

Thursday, December 11, 2014

On the Passing Storm

The lightning flashes
And it illuminates, illuminates, illuminates
Each object cloaked in darkness,
hidden by the night,
but for that moment 
when the lightning flashes

Then the thunder follows,
rolling across the land,
rumbling all it touches.
Even the cornerstone trembles--
    ever so slightly--
As the thunder passes by.

And, as so often happens 
when the lighting flashes and the thunder rolls,
The clouds weep.
Raindrops streak down windowpanes
and the outside world becomes

photo credit: OneEighteen via photopin cc

Wednesday, December 10, 2014

Your Angel

Your angel is hiding
In the shadows of life
And quietly waiting
For the moment of need

She keeps her eyes open
Peeks out now and then
Drawn out by your judgment
When it’s at its worst

But she doesn’t swoop in
As the hero of the day
She’ll perch on your shoulder
And tease out the right call

Let you angel hide longer
Heed her gentle calls
Listen to her guidance
Keep mind and body safe

Tuesday, December 9, 2014

The Making of Work

Tic, tic, tic
Tappety tap tap tap

Churning out concepts
Thunking out thoughts
Plunking them onto the page
Fleshed out
The words form themselves
As they’re wrenched from the mind
After they’re scribbled
Once they emerge
And mold themselves
They mold the mind
That first formed them

Make it question
All it’s known
All it’s done
All it’s made

Monday, December 8, 2014

After a rough few days...


My knees pull upwards
My shoulders hunch forward
And my chin drops to my chest

My arms cross each other
Wrapped around my middle
And my fingers grasp the seams
Of my shirt

My stomach is being wrung out
Like a wet rag
But the moisture escapes
Through my eyes
And down my cheeks

Each wave of pain
Constricts my body further
Until it all ebbs slowly away
And I can finally unravel

Wednesday, December 3, 2014


The creature appears
And my heart begins to race.
My breath catches, deep in my chest.
My stomach twists and flips
Tying itself into knots
As it continues to roll.
My palms tingle and sweat
And my hands begin to tremble.
My legs feel liquefied
But are solidly anchored in place.

Suddenly the squirrel scampers away
And my body returns to me.

Yep, I have a squirrel phobia.  

Tuesday, December 2, 2014

On Unrequited Love


I’m writing you again, my dear,
Letter eight hundred and sixty-four.
I know you won’t reply.
But none the less, I’m writing.

The same old words fill up the page:
“I love you”
“You’re beautiful”
“Please be mine forever”

All the same declarations
All the same adorations
All the same exhortations
All the same silence in response

Not that I blame you, darling
I couldn’t possibly do that
You are lovely and sweet
And everything that is kind

No, the fault is entirely mine
It’s truly not you, it’s me
I cast the blame upon my mirror
And the woeful image it shows me

The blame also lies in the drawer of my desk
Kept shamefully under lock and key
So I place this letter in that drawer
With the other eight hundred and sixty-three