The Tree

 

She'd been locked in the house for months 

as the undead raged outside

 

Famished and dehydrated 

she stared out the bedroom window 

and spied the pair again

 

For days, these cats roamed out 

on the limbs of the enormous hardwood tree 

as she wondered how they're surviving the apocalypse

 

Today, she decided to find out and proceeded

to climb out the second floor slim windowpane 

 

As she dangled on the limb, she glanced below

 

There her momma stood, gaping up to her daughter 

mouth opened and gnawing as if ravenous with 

flesh-thirsting hunger

 

She scrambled up on the branch 

and glanced towards the tree's core

 

A small hollowed hole revealed the bloody mass of flesh and bone 

and it was then she realized what a grave mistake she'd made

 

Advertisements

Dark Places #WEPFF: Black Heart

 

Today, I’m participating in the above contest/bloghop for WEP (aka Write…Edit…Publish).

 

Black Heart

 

Real love I’m undeserving of 

as torment and abuse 

are all I’m able to offer 

 

 

Such a sweet angelic soul 

he was 

I allowed fear and envy 

to rule 

 

 

Now standing at his final  

resting place 

pain, regret, tears fill my core  

 

 

Darkness now my only 

companion 

life ever fleeting 

death 

can’t come soon enough 

for this black-hearted bitch

You Tube Tuesday: Dead Poets Society

 

Over at my other site, Only the Lonely Press, I started a new video series called, Dead Poets Society, where I will take a poem of a given poet (long since passed on) and create a video for it.  This one above is one of my favorite Robert Frost’s poems.

Below is a bit of a morbid poem written by Emily Dickinson which I absolutely love.

 

I plan to create more videos for this particular series in the near future.

Do you have any (short) poems by your favorite poets to suggest?  If I like it (a lot), I may just create a video for it!

 

Story Sunday: The Protectors (Poem)

 

Bunnies of assorted colors

scampered around the child

in attempt to lead her

to safety

from the horde of flesh eaters

 

*Another poem I wrote for #StorySaturday.  This week’s prompt was bunnies.  And of course, I couldn’t write anything cozy or cuddly 😉

Story Saturday: Teddy Bear (Horror Poem)

 

I wrote this short poem for #StorySaturday (Twitter).  Today’s Teddy Bear Day and being me, I couldn’t write a nice and sweet poem-it had to be twisted and scary.

 

The girl hides under

the folds of the quilted cover

with her teddy bear

waiting

Murky shadows move

with an un-natural purpose

to claim and possess

wholly

When she opens her

eyes only to see the rising

sun, her bear on the

floor, frayed

She reaches for it and

embraces the toy to her wet face

and receives the scent

of death

An Ode To Spring: A Contest Winner

Over at I held a contest called, “An Ode to Spring,” where writers could write poetry about the coming of Spring (or hopefully, warmer weather!).   Today, it is my delight to present you the 2nd Place winner, Tate Morgan, for his beautiful poem, Spring Love.

 

In spring lovebirds hover fancy

till morning lit by the dew

Takes back winter’s heartache

restoring the love in you

 

The desperate cries of anguish

from a heart that knows no joy

Feeds long upon its own regret

tossing the soul as if a toy

 

Give to me your heartaches

lie down in the meadow green

Let go the sorrow of past loves

have rain wash the soul clean

 

Always to blossom in springtime

love feeds us of our dreams

Washing away the winter sorrows

from each one or so it seems

 

Take all of what you’ve been given

set aside pieces in you there-of

No broken promise of joy’s embrace

can outshine a true heart in love

Enjoyed his poem?  You’re in for a treat then!  Visit his page for loads more. 🙂

Crossroads (A Matter of Perspective)

crossroad4

 

As a writer, what does this poem say to you?

 

The Road Not Taken by Robert Frost

 

 

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

Darkness Abound

dark valley

 

 

 

 

One of the most difficult challenges for me was accepting the fact that I have a progressive disease (Usher Syndrome).  The next challenge was admitting that I needed new skills/retraining.

Coming to terms to both of these took twenty-four years.

Better late than never, eh?

Even then, it was difficult.  It’s been like going through the grief process that spanned over two decades.

I was not only losing my vision while dealing with moderate hearing loss, I was also gradually losing my independence.  And that was the most painful part of all.

I felt diminished as a person. Inferior.

Worthless.

A liability to others rather than an asset.

I loathed feeling that way.

But, what could I do about it?

So…depression and anxiety invaded, and for a time, won.

 

Darkness

 

Darkness is my constant companion
Everything before me veiled
Stumbling I cannot find my path
The way is shrouded
Uncertainty fills my future
Which path to choose?
Dreams seem just beyond my reach
What is the point of even trying
When darkness is all that awaits me?

 

*Stay tuned for the next post on what I finally did about my situation

 

All The World’s A Stage by William Shakespeare

With today being the 400th anniversary of Shakespeare’s death, I want to honor him with one of my favorite poems that he wrote.

 

“All the world’s a stage,
And all the men and women merely players;
They have their exits and their entrances,
And one man in his time plays many parts,
His acts being seven ages. At first, the infant,
Mewling and puking in the nurse’s arms.
Then the whining schoolboy, with his satchel
And shining morning face, creeping like snail
Unwillingly to school. And then the lover,
Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad
Made to his mistress’ eyebrow. Then a soldier,
Full of strange oaths and bearded like the pard,
Jealous in honor, sudden and quick in quarrel,
Seeking the bubble reputation
Even in the cannon’s mouth. And then the justice,
In fair round belly with good capon lined,
With eyes severe and beard of formal cut,
Full of wise saws and modern instances;
And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts
Into the lean and slippered pantaloon,
With spectacles on nose and pouch on side;
His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide
For his shrunk shank, and his big manly voice,
Turning again toward childish treble, pipes
And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all,
That ends this strange eventful history,
Is second childishness and mere oblivion,
Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.”

 

 

What is your favorite Shakespeare’s poem or play?

My Struggles to Achieving My Creative Dreams (Special Guest Post by Lidy Wilks PLUS a Cover Reveal of Her Chapbook AND Giveaways!)

can you catch my flow blog tour

*I have a special treat for you all today!  It is my honor to introduce to you Lidy Wilks who will be talking about her passion as a writer and poet, and how she came through her struggles to achieve her dreams.  The cover reveal above is for her poetry chapbook, Can You Catch My Flow?  Be sure to check out the special giveaways at the end of this post Lidy is promoting! 

 

 

I’ve taken a few detours on this creative journey. I’ve stumbled and detoured away from it.  Funny, when I think about it.  As I’d always known, from the moment I read Little Women and Moby Dick, that I wanted a future involved with books.  I didn’t know then what kind of job it’d be.  But I never doubted for a minute, that whatever that job entailed, I would find where I belong.

Yet, I’ve had my highs and lows in trying to achieve my creative dreams.  My first fan was my friend and classmate.  Her excited response supported my interest to become a writer and write more stories.  I held those aspirations all the way through high school; until a teacher asked me what I wanted to be when I got older.  Naturally I said “I want to be an author.”

Well, imagine my utter shock when I was told that writing was just a hobby.  Making money from writing wasn’t a high priority.  I wanted to write and have readers enjoy my stories.  To my teacher, becoming a published author was unrealistic.  Writing could not feed you, clothe you or pay the bills. That was the reality of things.

Despite her quick and crushing, pessimistic assessment, I couldn’t let go of my dreams.  But it still affected me so much that I changed my intended major on my college applications.  I’d decided to major in Mass Communications instead of my favorite subject English.  At least with a Mass Comm degree I can get a job in print media/publishing that’ll pay well.  Fortunately, this little detour didn’t last long.

What happened? I was reminded of what I really wanted after my first semester.  I only majored in communications because I was afraid of a future that hadn’t even happened yet.  I let that fear guide me on a different path.  A dream of becoming a magazine editor/writer as a way to hold onto my creative dream; but that fell apart because of an elective creative writing class, and the professor who encouraged me.

So I spent the next four years writing to my heart’s content.  Studied and read British and American poetry, and Shakespeare’s plays in Old English.  Taking non-fiction creative writing, and poetry workshops.  All the while minoring in Mass Comm because I might as well finish what I started.  Plus, it could come in handy (and it did a bit now that I’m a blogger). Point is, I was never happier.  And then I graduated.

True to form and I don’t want to admit it even now, I did not find a job with my English degree.  I started temping and found a job at a non-profit.  I got married, had kids and before I knew it, writing-wise I had nothing to show for it.  Life had taken me on another detour until a company move to a new city gave me the kick-in-the-butt I needed.  Dust off the story ideas I’ve filed away throughout the years, and exercise my writing muscles.  And not just write again; but, write more poetry and submit them to literary journals, magazines, etc.

Looking back, all these detours served as lessons.  To never again let my doubts, lack of confidence, or the opinions of others take me away from what I love doing.  And believe me, I almost completely turned my back from it especially after receiving a nasty rejection letter from a poetry editor.  But as much the support I’ve received helped validate my writing dreams, I should believe in myself more especially against those whose opinions would deter me from it.

After all, I will always question myself and whether I have the talent and determination to continue on this journey.  Questions like what is this poem about? Who is the poem for?  How could I ever had written this?  Or, being filled with writing envy and asking why didn’t I write that?  But these are questions I deal with whenever I pick up a pen to write, or read a poem.  And that’s not something that will ever go away.  It’s one of the things that’s part of a writer’s life. And it’s a writer’s life for me.

arrival of monarch

exultation

 

 

 

 

 

 

giveaway lidy wilks

Click on above image to enter for the giveaway!

 

 

lidy wilksAbout the Author:

Ever since she was young, Lidy Wilks was often found completely submerged in the worlds of Dickens, Louisa May Alcott, Sweet Valley High and Nancy Drew. She later went on to earn a Bachelor degree in English with a concentration in Creative Writing from Franklin Pierce University where she spent four years knee-deep in fiction, poetry and creative non-fiction workshops.

Lidy is the author of Can You Catch My Flow? a poetry chapbook, and is a member of Write by the Rails.  She currently resides in Virginia with her husband and two children; and an anime, book and manga library which she’s looking to expand, one day by adding an Asian drama DVD collection.  Lidy continues her pursuit in writing more poetry collections and fantasy novels all the while eating milk chocolate and sipping a glass of Cabernet, or Riesling wine.

Facebook | Twitter | Instagram | Blog