Dear Cluster, Last year, I celebrated ten years of writing. Yes, I’ve been on this journey a while. I had written before 2011 but that year was when I became serious about honing my craft. I became passionate about publishing my writings and joined Figment (ha, Figment! I will always miss what you were). The Figment EraIt was on Figment that I compiled my first chapbook, my first novella, my first fan fiction collection. It was on Figment that I started Doctrine, my first full length manuscript and received my first critique. So, you see why I start my count in 2011. It was during my Figment era that I edited Doctrine, submitted it, and got my first few rejections. As Figment came to a close, so did the time I had to write but never my dedication. I was baffled and more than a little scared about what teenaged me thought. 2020
0 Comments
Yesterday, I lost my cousin. He was a gentle soul and a dreamer whose life was much too short. Like I do, I wrote a poem to express myself. Dear E, this is for you. To all the ones I’ve lost...I have learned to catalogue the names
Of my loved ones on my soul Tattoo them in the chambers of my heart Because once their light goes out All that is left are the memories Frozen in color, sometimes in motion Often beneath the plastic sleeves of albums, A beloved phrase, and a half-remembered smile Because we all want a sweet life No one knows your struggles But I’ll collect your stories So I may find you again May your gentle soul Rest In Perfect Peace! This morning, I am alone again And in this silence, the doubts find me Close my eyes, swim towards the dream Where I am born again your horoscope says: “Go back. The hour approaches. The number 7 will favor only the ruthless. Your Soul Mate hums an ode to remembrance. The shadow maker awaits.”
Darling Cluster, It’s that time again. *starts ugly crying* it’s not Friday but who cares. Life is all about making something sweet out of something bitter. It’s been two months since my last update. What have I been doing since then? A whole lot of nothing writing-wise. I have so much going on that I am drowning. A little bit of background: I work 40hrs a week at a fast-paced, non-writing job. I am helping #3 establish a time-consuming business, and I am battling self-worth issues. Yep, nothing new there. I have a newsletter now. I'm still working out the kinks and content but it's there. So, sign up. Without further ado, fall into autumn with me. Or, as I like to call it, going on when you can't go on. This is #fridayfrien d. ...all your mistakes might seem colossal in the moment but they are small in hindsight... This July, I want to invite you to come nano with me. We’ll have weekly updates, tea and cookies, and write-a-thons at three in the morning. Although we’ll wish we were on the other side of the finish line each and every moment, I want us to enjoy the process because the journey makes the destination. I want to chase the dream. I want to achieve it even harder. I want something real and true. Your Horoscope Says: “A stranger carries a suitcase full of possibilities. He is a man detached from the present. Your True Love briefly flirts with time. Pour water on the road to set him straight.”
Your Horoscope Says: “A friend is on a journey. The stars are watching. Do not approach the angel at the intersection. The one on the side walk will prove friendlier. Your True Love contemplates the weather.”
If you ever get lost
Look to the north star It will bring you home Guide you back down to earth If you're ever wanting Rub a lamp on its side It will grant your wishes Wealth flows with the tide So wake your dreams up Shoot for the moon Make the first move It will all end right If you so believe, then it will be What is opened on Earth will open above The skies will open and you will see That the falling water are showers of blessings Come to wipe your tears clean This new year is going to be something different
We leave all the bad energy of the last behind All our failures, pain and mistakes To remind us how lucky we are To make it through the turbulent times A fresh new wind is blowing My sadness far, far away A bold new me in the making Built on the blueprints of my yesterday And you will know me For I am born again I'll blow you kisses of love instead Of the blood I used to cry In honor of #MLKDay and current events, here is "I dream in English," a poem I wrote years ago that is, sadly, even more relevant today. Let us never forget the brave men and women who fought--through words and their actions--for a better tomorrow. As long as there are laws, words, actions and beliefs that still proclaim the superiority of one person over the other, the Dream is still not realized. We must pass the torch to the next generation because this battle is not yet won. While I hope we can dream a better tomorrow, I hope we can work towards it with great fervor and love.
As the year ends, I rise
To the occasion of the new one Ashes are templates upon which To build your new dreams on I pull out all my rotten parts Salted the earth so they may grow no more I reach for a new dawn Climb up the walls of ivory-plated tower of failures To seek anew the dreams of my forebears The cohesiveness of my past with my future To render a more unified present Which I present to my newborn self And as the year ends, I rise Your Horoscope Says: "Your True Love is on the third rock from the sun. You must meet your soul mate before to clear the path to her.
The color blue will favor you but, first, it demands a sacrifice. Please, do not stargaze tonight. The stars will be awake and gazing down." There is something in my past
It eats away at my future I do not yet know what it is But it is jeopardizing tomorrow I must pull it by the root So that it may never grow again Your Horoscope Says: “Contemplate the purpose of being. The philosophy of endeavoring.
The west favors you today. Be suspicious of those wearing the color green.” Find me all the time in a castle of gray and white
When you do, ask me what I left behind In time you will see that all I am Is not what I proclaim to be I am a shell of a shell Was never true to myself Perhaps it's not too late to learn That a helping hand eases the pain My castle is overgrown, I should cut the weed But the thorns are digging deeper, leaving fine scratches on my skin I hired a gardener to oversee The cleaning and pruning of thorns and weeds He took one close look at me And created a sculpture of my visage It is me, he corrected eagerly How he sees me! Surprised, I've never seen myself I am amazed, looking around, noticing That the thorns and weed were made to resemble me Come spring, I'll have a garden of fragrant flowers That my gardener has nurtured himself He's got a green thumb, an affinity for growth I meant to keep him... If he's not already mine Your Horoscope says: “Endurance through the long night reveals the brightest dawn.
Consult the stars. Your True Love folds six socks. He frowns. They are missing their half. The dryer smirks. Carry a water bottle with you today." Inhale the winter’s breeze
Green turns bare Life; a knotted ending Your horoscope says: “Perfection cannot be rushed. It does not exist.
Your soulmate awaits in the unlikeliest of places. Remain vigilant. Your True Love hides his face. ” Your Horoscope Says: “To everything there is a season.
The eve is upon us. Patience will flower beauty while impatience yields only barren fields." I'm teaching you how a girl became a monster
All the dreams she'd hoped to spin All the songs she'd hope to sing On the road she drove too fast out of control The sad and the lonely The arms wrapped around me The truth and the tales All the lies we sold We're chasing tomorrow We're chasing fortunes We're chasing our pasts Trying to forget misfortunes Never a fantasy we couldn't ruin Fill in between lines and, true, You'll find us running as fast To get away from who we are *** Little ants. Tiny, little ants. **** I'm teaching you how a girl became a monster All the dreams she'd hoped to spin All the songs she'd hope to sing On the road she drove too fast out of control Your horoscope says: “You wake up with a frog in your throat. Leave it there. Reminiscence about a past decision. You are better off not making that choice. Thunder will strike, revealing the diamond in the rock.”
We were past the highway when you realized you never knew me at all
Regret is the word we use when we wish we could forget So you ask And I speak You glance anywhere but at me The trees reach in: soft, canary yellow appendages gliding against your skin As if to comfort you I am alone in my box, watching the scene like a bystander The cars weave in and out in front of you My words do the same, monosyllabic as they are Perhaps the silence held the knife While my words were mere menacing pinpricks Stoplight: blinking yellow then un-approving red Stop Exactly like a mother would scold Her bright-eyed child for being too eager Green You realize it might have been better not knowing me at all Afterall, forgetting ensures there is nothing to regret Your horoscope says: “Take a break from studying. The numbers 6 and 2 comes to you in a dream. Play them. Do not turn left at the sign. Your destiny awaits on the right.
|
Still...chasing that creative spark that sets everything in motion... Categories
All
Archives
September 2022
|