Writing Journal

Here I am at the end of another day, without a poem. I'm mentally exhausted, but did find myself captivated by the way a little boy was looking at our cherry pastries this afternoon. Let's see what happens when I use that for inspiration...

Cherry
He presses his buggy blue eyes to the glass,
Framed by his delicate fingers
To see the pastries better.
As though he believes that
He can get close enough to taste them
From where he's standing.

His mom glances down while ordering,
As though she's afraid he's going to
Reach his hand through the glass
To grab the cherry one
And devour it instantly.
He only dreams.

Writing Journal

I'm too lazy to keep track of what day of the challenge it is. And I'm too "busy" (mostly lazy) to update each day. That's partly why I need a regular schedule...that's an entirely different thing, though.

Tonight, I bring you today's poem. Created in this very blog entry typing space. Because I don't see the point in opening a word document to copy and paste or wasting a piece or two of paper and some ink.
....
so, now that I'm finally caught up on facebook, I can start...

Vaguebooking
Is pretty sure she barely made it home.
Wonders where she went instead.
(No, not really. Is pretty sure she knows.)
Considers moving furniture, just to make some waves.
Knew that was a bad idea.
Wishes there was more.
Wants the wanting to go away.
Likes the smell of sleep.
Has a headache.
Is hungry but doesn't want to eat;
Is tired but doesn't want to sleep.
Hates waiting for those e-mails.
Needs to send some e-mails out.
Has so much to get done tomorrow.
Hopefully doesn't have to walk.
Can't wait until Tuesday.
Is ready to be done with it all.

Writing Journal

Well, it's Lenten Season again. I decided to do the 40 poems in 40 days dealio once more. And since I'm not Catholic, it doesn't matter if I don't do exactly 40 poems in 40 days. (Just looking at last year's results, I'm being realistic here.)

Today's was a quick list poem and, again true to last year, utter crap.
But it's a poem, which is something I've been meaning to do more often.

untitled
The list of things I need to be
Is as long as what I need to do.
Which one should I tackle first?
The doing seems more feasible
Than the being.
Let's start there.

Create the spreadsheet.
Get more notebooks.
Write the check
(Put it in the mail).
Fill the dresser.
Empty the box.
Finish the book.
Finish the blanket.
Fix the other one.
Wash the dishes.
Find something to wear tomorrow.
Pack the change of clothes tonight.
Figure out who is driving where.
Eat something
(More than a handful of saltines).
Read the article.
Fix the article.
Resize the ads.
Write a poem.

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.

Reading Journal

Well, I finished the first book of 2010 tonight. Yep, I finally finished O Pioneers! A good read, as always. I was a little hesitant to read it tonight, since I was in the middle of the White Mulberry section, and that one is particularly depressing. And I've been of such good spirits lately that I didn't want to lose that. But I pushed through it, anyway. And, boy, am I glad I did! I forgot how much the ending cheers me up. Alexandra's story has always brought a peaceful feeling that I don't get from many other stories. Here's what she says to Carl at the very end of the book. (Not quite the final lines.)

She admits to belonging to the land "now more than ever. You remember what you once said about the graveyard, and the old story writing itself over? Only it is we who write it, with the best we have."
...
"Lou and Oscar can't see those things," said Alexandra suddenly. "Suppose I do will my land to their children, what difference will that make? The land belongs to the future, Carl; that's the way it seems to me. How many of the names on the county clerk's plat will be there in fifty years? I might as well try to will the sunset over there to my brother's children. We come and go, but the land is always here. And the people who love it and understand it are the people who own it for a little while."


I finished The Greatest Virtue a while ago. It was commonplace.

I started Tweak, but don't feel comfortable reading that on Sundays. I'm really hoping it picks up, though. I don't know how much more I can take of it. And it better end well, or I'll be mad.

Looking forward to starting Dreams of My Russian Summers. This is one I picked up a few days ago, when Half Price was having a 20% of sale. It's my Random.
List time!!
New: Tweak
Random: Dreams of My Russian Summers
True: Planet of the Umps (tale of Ken Kaiser, the only baseball umpire to make a name for himself)
Old: Catcher in the Rye (I just discovered that I do have a copy of this book, despite thinking otherwise. It's been so long since I read it that I want to see if I still like it.)

Off I go to reading land!!