2018 - The Wabi-Sabi Writer
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Sunday, December 16, 2018

Prose • Random Poetry

Writing through the Winter

Writing through the Winter
December 16, 20180 Comments


It is that time of year.  Short days nestled in tight darkness that sparkles with holiday lights and the reflections on the wet pavement.  Everyone rushing around like Santa's Elves to the next cheerful obligation or ugly sweater situation. 

I find myself lost in the crowds, lost in thought and lost in the melancholy I have grown to expect this time of year.  Yet I have not taken poetic refuge to stave off the sullen mood that scarves my face - my words strewn about the floor like misfit toys that I trip over.

So instead I will give space to these precious little ones.  Let them play on the page.  Perhaps here they will be the good company I long for.

Please join me on my winter writing adventures 

An exploration of all that is authentic by acknowledging three simple realities: 

nothing lasts, nothing is finished, and nothing is perfect

Poetry, Prose and Pondering - posted on Mondays

(Feedback is welcome, kindness is appreciated)

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Tuesday, November 6, 2018

NaNo18 • Prose

Night of Writing Dangerously

Night of Writing Dangerously
November 06, 20180 Comments



I am participating the final Night of Writing Dangerously event on November 18th.  This epic evening of revelry and words is to raise money for the creative writing programs in schools and communities around the world (through the National Novel Writing non profit organization). 

Any assistance you can give will help kids and adults get the encouragement, structure and inspiration needed to develop their creative potential!

All donations are tax deductible.





“Fiction is the truth inside the lie.” 
― Stephen King

All good writing is swimming under water and holding your breath. 
-- F. Scott Fitzgerald
“We write to taste life twice, in the moment and in retrospect.” 
― Anais Nin
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Thursday, November 1, 2018

NaNo18 • Prose

National Novel Writing Month - 50,000 words/30 days

National Novel Writing Month - 50,000 words/30 days
November 01, 20180 Comments






The quest to write a novel... 50,000 or more words... in one month.

 NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) - something I stumbled across some five years ago while attending a coaching certification program, has become an end of the year tradition.  One where I spend more time with words, with characters and the trouble they get into, than the people I interact with in my daily life.  

 It is an all consuming test of endurance - this jaunt across the far reaches of imagination.  To keep writing, even when the words lag, the eyes droop and the call of Dexter reruns is as strong as the need itself.  

 This year it is the final coup of my writing Trifecta.  



Join me on this wild adventure

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Wednesday, October 31, 2018

October '18 Poetry Project •

October Poetry Project - Retrospective

October Poetry Project - Retrospective
October 31, 20181 Comments



This poetry project started with the usual intents and purposes; to set free the Muze in the company of fellow travellers who would share the moments, the visuals, and the feelings of a trip down inspiration road.  I aspired towards the Trifecta - the writing goal of completing two poetry months and ultimately the novel writing month in November.  

 And to be honest, I thought it would be easy.  I thought I would just flow with words and revel in recognition.  The theme - love - was about as up my alley as any and yet that is not the direction I went.

 I did manage at least a couple times to dress the words in chiffon and lace but for the most part, the Muze wore black.  And nothing I could do would change her out of it.  Not even withholding writing, like dessert from a child who won't touch the broccoli.  So I went with it as the Muze insisted - it was either going to be black (chic or goth) or totally naked and exposed.  And so it was.

The journey continues..... I hope you join me along the way
Embrace imperfection...


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October '18 Poetry Project •

Endless

Endless
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Tuesday, October 30, 2018

October '18 Poetry Project •

Lunar Eclipse

Lunar Eclipse
October 30, 2018 2 Comments



Full
Moon song
sung one summer night
slow
low and deep
red on the horizon
of my angst
a total eclipse
of the heart
words whispered
in the backseat 
of your mother's car
as we made our way 
home
from 
Hampton
to lives we were not 
allowed
to live

 the only one who ever asked me

 Full
moon dance
soft 
prance
out from the dark
into 
my 
heart
my
Eclypse
my
love
we walked this world
from coast
to forrest
to the city by the bay
my precious companion
I miss you every day
Glorious Orb
your light shines
on all my hidden corners
so I can see
in the shadows
what I have lost

 and
also

so I can
finally
 be 
found






Inspired by the prompt "over the moon"
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Monday, October 29, 2018

October '18 Poetry Project •

The Auspicious One

The Auspicious One
October 29, 2018 3 Comments



the gambler's daughter
asleep
and
auspicious
 on arrival
at the angel hour
11:11

tiny pink fingers 
reaching and clasping
the point
offered
a precious parasol
of
safety and warmth

21
the length of her
stretching out 
of the samsara sea
towards the sky

cradled in cracked
treasure vase
 arms
her soft body
stiffens
then
yields 
under
the
 weight
of
the
world
7.7

the wheel turns
and
endlessness knots
and
in
 the 
end
the daughter
makes
her 
own
luck






Inspired by the prompt "numbers"
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Sunday, October 28, 2018

October '18 Poetry Project •

Herding Mischief

Herding Mischief
October 28, 20181 Comments





A long penniless weekend
overdrawn
and
overcharged

so the time will be spent
carefully
on care filling
things

I watch the day spread
a buffet of sights
at my kitchen
window

cool grey with only the slightest hint
of blue sky

the first church
chimes
nine

the wind wiggles
tree tops
and makes its way
in around
 the wooden sill

a decade has passed
the same street
the bridge
the bay
and
all who pass below

Ms. Wolfe would approve
I have a room of my own

space to herd words
like shy cats
avoiding the pen
somewhere lost
between the tiny
 synaptic spaces
and
kinetic scrawl
of a cramped hand.

I have to call them out
gently
slowly
without direction or insistence
just allowing them
to peek around 
the shadowed stone wall
tender footed in the field beyond

it is best if I let it happen

there will always be time for rigorous
discipline and routine

now is the time 
for kind reassurance
and loving embraces
safe spaces
to be seen
heard
and the touch
of form

nothing forced

the whispers and purr
the warmth of a sunbeam
through silk sheers
the well worn
sand on an open shore
a field beyond
the forrest
within a ring of stones
glowing 
dancing
flickering
flame

but it is me
who heeds the call
to come out
to come through

it is the words
that are calling
me




OctPoWriMo 2018  Day 28
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Saturday, October 27, 2018

October '18 Poetry Project •

Gramp's Favorite Color

Gramp's Favorite Color
October 27, 2018 2 Comments



As children
we ask
the most important
of
questions

why this
why that
and 
why not

echo through 
the hallways
lined
with framed photos
and
crackling
sun

But the most
pertinent
powerful
and
profound

What is your favorite color?

is THE one to be answered.


I asked this
every other weekend or so
on our visits

Gram would proudly say

the color of my magnolia tree

the backdrop for all the summer photos

oh not at all bubblegum or pepto

 but the palest of precious pink


Mine has always been

the juicy color of happiness

and vibrant sun

the very best flavor

(of jelly bean, gummy, soda or sherbet)

But Gramps

He was the one who would say

with a glint in his eye

a riddle
and
the 
answer
all in one

the color of the sky
the moment
the sun shuts
her eyes
and nestles in 
an early autumn 
blanket of clouds

my gramp's favorite color


I think of him
every time I see the sky streaked
in salmon swirled cerulean

and I hear his answer

sky blue pink 







Inspired by the prompt "what color is it?"
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Friday, October 26, 2018

October '18 Poetry Project •

Muze's Fancy

Muze's Fancy
October 26, 20181 Comments





Five pages
to freedom

the traveler
tired
and
worn
carries on
to
the 
end

a notebook lost
left behind
at the cafe
carefully turned in
like an infant
at the firestation
safe harbor
no questions
(or peeking)
asked

Forced observations
jotted down
with a borrowed bic pen
whet the muze's
thighs
with
word 
longing

it is too busy to be social
and I have tipped too little
to linger

ah Muze 
you are such a loose tramp
when the wine
flows
I intended to fast
but the addict
is in full swing
as my artist
is ignored
on the corner 
of the kitchen table.

I forget
how long the traveller
has been my
constant companion
surviving
the floods
of whoknowswhat
and 
many
a drinking
scribble.

ever vital
giving birth
to poem
and
novel notions
this 
traveler
tickles
the
Muze's
fancy
just
fine.


OctPoWriMo 2018  Day 26
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Thursday, October 25, 2018

October '18 Poetry Project •

Parallel Parking

Parallel Parking
October 25, 20181 Comments




I spy
a
tiny
space

to
take

to
fill

if
I 
am
careful

and
remember

all
the
right
angles

all
the
turns
of
the
wheel

to
nudge

to 
edge

in
and
out

of this life

without
leaving

a
single
scratch



OctPoWriMo 2018  Day 25

Inspired by the prompt "back and forth"
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Wednesday, October 24, 2018

October '18 Poetry Project •

Opening

Opening
October 24, 20180 Comments


Watching the sun
rise over the city
I come back to this place
when I am eager 
to be back
on the path
and
also
when I am completely lost
afraid of what
lurks
behind the blinds

I see through
the sliver of an opening
the skies
lighten
to cornflower
and
cream

my words
are loose skin
on the back of arms
that know no family
only the random
baggage carried
through a half century

experiences gathered 
in the mossy coat
of fantasy

only when landing
hard
onto the reality
of this path
do I realize
it is not 
soft
moist
shadow grown green
but
swam vapor
a pall 
over my eyes

how much of it was never seen
never touched
and yet
tripped over blindly
leaving a crumpled crying heap
others walk around
as if invisible
or rather
the mirror
of other's
shame
they are unwilling to see

Do I have to fall
in order
to be seen?

It is time 
to 
open my blinds







Inspired by the prompt "opening"
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Tuesday, October 23, 2018

October '18 Poetry Project •

Sabi Shame

Sabi Shame
October 23, 2018 2 Comments



I hesitated for a moment then accepted the invitation.  An invitation to grow a friendship, a connection,  a relationship with someone with like-interests.  Those succulent, enveloping, delicious and rich interests that somehow both crack you wide open,  suck out your own unctuous juices and yet cup and cradle all your tender fragile precious parts like a fabergé egg.   I reveled in the wonderful possibility, like my cat atop the bookshelf.  Nothing to lose or so I thought, I let my kimono to blow wide open.  I did not see the flaw in my silks.  In my hubris I thought it would not matter for the threads are fine and gilded.  But all you could see was the sabi stain.  You stared unwaivering as my shame tied the obi tight.  Satisfied, you turned and walked away. 


 not speaking the words
age is all that matters to you
it is you who lied






Inspired by the prompt to write a Haibun exploring 
what is it that you wish others knew about you
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Monday, October 22, 2018

October '18 Poetry Project •

Last Call

Last Call
October 22, 2018 2 Comments



Skin to skin
slithering around the floor
like snakes
tangled and twisting
biceps and thighs
pulsing
 pressing
promising
more than this neon night can offer

So we stumble
out of Badlands
into the Midnight Sun

 a bit beyond
bloom
our edges 
have grown
coarse
and
moulded

 this truth
is one
better 
washed down
with
PrEP
and
Clicquot

So have
one more stiff one
try your luck
at the sidewalk sale

  before
last call
at the Glass Coffin




OctPoWriMo 2018  Day 22












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Sunday, October 21, 2018

October '18 Poetry Project •

12 Miles

12 Miles
October 21, 20181 Comments



always
running
moving my body
forward
through
times

  around Dunn's
through the wooded trail
by the twin trees
that knew
my
all
the secrets

Billie held my hand
as we made our way around
my eyes closed
too innocent 
to know
a simple kiss
would be all that was needed
to take that
away

 Yelling
Run!
to 
the
one
I tried to protect
from the trailerpark
cruelty
the cords
wrapped tight
around my wrists

 Running
down 
steep
stone
stairs
towards
 any
open 
door
to 
hide
from
fists
I grew stronger
each
footstep
each
arch
purchase
made
with
solid ground
rebounding
towards
somewhere
anywhere
nowhere

 It did not matter
Just keep running

 blisters bubble up and burst
blood stained socks
broken bones
skin
stripped
 broken down
beneath sweat stained 
intentions
until only 
the exposed
raw
truth
of
me
my phloem 
remains






Inspired by the prompt to explore things you sometimes need to get off your chest.
When you felt strongly that someone needed to see things from your point of view
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