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
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!
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 😉
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
(*YouTube Tuesday idea originally came from the Martians Attack blog)
Earlier this year, I had an opportunity to interview both poet, Geffrey Davis, and film-maker, Chad Howitt in regards to the above film (originally presented by Motionpoems). For the first time ever, I had a credit in a film for assisting with the film-maker on the poem. A pretty cool experience 🙂
I love the whole premise behind Motionpoems in their goal to take poetry and bring them to life through film.
Incredible.
To see the original film and interviews, the links are below:
Motionpoems now in the midst of its seventh season, and I hope they have many, many more.
If you’d like to participate in YouTube Tuesday, post something from YouTube that you enjoyed and tell us a bit about it. Don’t forget to include the link to this post in yours so I can check it out. Also, if you’re on Twitter, tweet about it using the hashtag #YouTubeTuesday.
Can you help me with giving this poem a title? Place your suggestions in the comment section below. 😉
Photo Credit: Ben Heine
This haiku was prompted by the “elephants” theme over at @storysaturday on Twitter.
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. 🙂
As a writer, what does this poem say to you?
The Road Not Taken by Robert Frost
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
*Stay tuned for the next post on what I finally did about my situation
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?
sweet breaths of pale blue
crocuses fill the prairie
-life blooms evermore
Red-stained, broken wings
the Eagle wobbles on a
barren branch-her cries
echo through the misty gorge
The feathered-brown nest
lies shattered on the bare rocks
below-its silence
snapped as the Eaglet soars high
“Trees are poems the earth writes upon the sky, We fell them down and turn them into paper,
That we may record our emptiness.”
-Kahlil Gibran
Those angelic blue
eyes in search of the woman
he thought he married
only to be left
under the frigid head-stone
unvisited for
twenty-some regrettable
years-is it too late
to say that “I am sorry?”
whiffs of gas and oil
permeate the warped aged-wood
where echoes of dreams
—-linger
*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.
Click on above image to enter for the giveaway!
About 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.
