That Kind of Day

I had leftover sweet potato fries for lunch.  Yeah, it’s that kind of day.  I can’t focus.  The city is bumpy and screeching outside my windows and I can smell summer approaching. I know that spring has only recently officially begun, but there is no Spring here, not really.  I fell on the sidewalk, while walking the dogs and gawking at the monstrous buildings that are popping up like weeds in Hollywood. I got a bit scraped up and bruised. Why does falling hurt more when you’re almost 49? And almost blind? I cry when I fall, not because it hurts, but because it reminds me.  I am resenting Zelda (my white cane, for those who haven’t been introduced) and RP and middle age. I should be working on poetry.  I am writing this blog post instead.

A Guest in Someone Else’s Home

When I discovered Steve’s blog, MSich Chronicles, I was an instant fan, of Steve and of his writing.  So, you can imagine how thrilled I was when Steve asked if I would write a guest post for his blog.  This is my first foray into guest posting and it is a real honor to be asked to be a guest writer in another’s virtual writing home. Thank you Steve for putting your trust in me.

Rattle

I have read some extraordinary poems lately.  Poems by people I have grown to know and care about, poems by people I am just getting to know and poems by people I will only ever know through their poetry.

Many of the poems I am talking about were written by people who hadn’t considered themselves poets, or those who are poets but haven’t ever submitted their work for publication.  I know that submission and publication isn’t for everyone, but I recently found out about a  submission call from a poetry journal I love, called Rattle.  This call is for poems from writers who have never had a poem published.

Here is the link.  Something to consider.

I am so incredibly inspired by so much of what I have been reading lately and it all makes me want to write more, to become more involved in the writing world and continue to encourage all of the amazing writers who encourage and inspire me every day.

The Writing Disorder

I am super excited to have 5 of my poems in The Writing Disorder!

 

Letches

I am so incredibly excited today to have one of my poems in Ink Sweat & Tears. Helen Ivory is publishing some amazing contemporary poetry, and to have my words next to those of so many truly talented poets, is an absolute honor.

The Irishman

I don’t often write love poems.  I have written only a handful and they are all about one person. He is a man who has Ireland running through his blood and a heart that beats with a strength and rhythm that makes everyone around him feel safe.  He has faced grief and adversity, but has always persisted, always lived with a true voice and the courage to be exactly who he is.  He is the embodiment of kindness and generosity.  He brings laughter and pure joy into the world around him. He is at once brave and vulnerable, a man who takes care of everyone with gentle patience, and a boy who is delighted in the world of Doctor Who and Batman and video games.  He loves science and technology, isn’t afraid of the future and has a mind for building things.  He is a teacher and a scholar of life.  He is a friend and a strong shoulder to lean on.  He is my husband and my good fortune.  He is my champion, my safe space, my home.

Happy Anniversary My Love!

I Don’t Do Sick Well

I am sick.  Nothing serious, just a cold that won’t seem to go away, but I don’t do sick well.  No one likes being sick, I get that, but when I get a cold, I act like the world is crumbling.  I wasn’t always like this.  I used to get sick and ride it out and never talk about it.  Now, I am not only talking about it, but writing a blog post about it.  I must sound pretty crazy, or like a total princess.  Either way, it’s not cool.  I need to figure out where my tenacity and grit escaped to.  Thanks to my Dad, I think I have an idea.

I was visiting my Dad 4  days ago, the day the beast cold started attacking my throat, and I mentioned that I felt like I have become super sensitive to just a simple cold, making a huge deal about a sniffle or two.  He told me that he thinks I may feel like any physical ailment is just one more fucking thing on top of the big thing, the blind thing.  And, yes, he did say the F word; I come from a family who use expletives freely.

Adding My Voice to the Mix

I have been wanting to, and feeling afraid to, write this post.  I wasn’t going to write it today; I was going to write about being sick and how I have been sick the past few days and how I just don’t do sick very well, but then I read something this morning and I think it is time for me to write the post I have been so afraid to write.

Since the school shooting in Florida, I have read a number of posts, some about the shooting specifically, some about guns, some about the fear that comes out of living in a gun culture, some about the violence and atrocities around the world that we know so little about or turn away from because it hurts too much.  They have all had a huge impact on me, in different ways and from different directions.  Please read them.  I think they are vital and important.  I think what they tell us and teach us is crucial.  “Guns” from Tom Being Tom, “The Marriage of Heaven and Hell” and “The Good, the Bad and the Ugly” from Bojana’s Coffee and Confessions to Go, “An Unburdened Childhood” from A Light Circle, “Scariest Thing that has ever Happened….Terror at the Movies from Visions and Giggles, and the post I read this morning, “We are so Clueless” from Brandewijn Words.

Earthquake

I am so excited to see my poem, “Earthquake”, in Foxglove Journal today.  My huge thanks go out to editor Elizabeth Gibson.