Writing Journal

I've been picking up poetry again. Most of what I've been coming up with is too personal for me to post right now, though.

I did discover over the week of Christmas that I have to tap myself when trying to figure out the syllables for a haiku. I can't tap the table or someone else's leg; it has to be my own. I guess I have to feel the weight of my fingertips in order to feel the poem. (Yeah, that was intentionally artsy-fartsy.)

To prove that I've been writing, here's the haiku I was composing when I learned the above quirk.

One Way
There is only one
Way to kiss the insides: to
Love as He doth love.

Writing Journal

The past few weeks/monthish, I've come up with some good lines/images and have tried some of them out in poems, but I don't like the poems as much as I like the lines. Some of them I have yet to try out, so I'm making a list. Because, sometimes, I like lists. Steal any of these, and someone else will kill you.

• "Like a rock in a river, he won't roll on his own."




• a bridge being repairable from only one side




• "You earn what you want by learning to love what you're given."




• "...desire to be consumed."




• purposes for different bone structures




• Since there is no limit to the mistakes we can make, there is no limit to the rectifying of those mistakes (in God's eyes)




• "I'm musing you."




• Image: hiking packs, taking lead out of ours and putting into the one Christ is carrying.
  Christ's burden:my burden::coin purse:Mary Poppin's carpet bag




• "So busy looking back, I didn't see what was ahead."




• Meaning of "Grace shall be as your day"




• "He heard her voice across the room/and perked up in nervousness"

Just now, this very instant, while parading through my notes and listening to Airborne Toxic Event on youtube, I pulled out this haiku.

Dependency
Sans emotion, things
Are crystal clear. Desire
Disguises the truth.

Writing Journal

Last summer, I was inspired by some unusual noise in a Sacrament meeting. Most of the time, there's dead silence in a Single's Ward during that ordinance. But, this one time, in Sacrament meeting, there were a bunch of people and everyone uses the plastic cups instead of the old paper ones now. The noise was distracting until I found symbolism in it. Then it became beautiful.

Ever since then, I've been trying to write a poem about it. I don't know that I've ever been successful. I never feel that any of them are finished. Like this one I wrote during the Lenten Writing Challenge.

I came up with a haiku about it today. Title is WIP (Work in Progress), as usual.

Forgiveness
Plastic cups fall into
The tray, sounding of sweet, pure
Forgiveness

Writing Journal (Day Four)

I didn't make much time for writing on Saturday. Between working, watching curling, and shoveling, I just didn't have much time. I was lucky to snatch these lines while in the car:

Dirty snow covers the signs.
Light on a flag captures my eyes.
Slivers of a silvery moon hide in the skies.

Can I make it a haiku?

Winter Ride
Gray snow covers signs
Lighted flags capture my eyes
Silvers slice the skies