Tag Archives: writing

Loyal

… one of those dying virtues along with honesty integrity dignity devotion tolerance respect and so much more. In this world when partner and job hopping are considered fashionable and so many options to choose from, loyalty nowadays is as scarce as rain in Egypt and as elusive as anything when you want it. Based on what I see read and heard around, nobody is loyal to anything or anyone anymore. Except for pets (dogs) probably, but then again I don’t and will never know because I don’t have pets and if I would have it will not be a dog or cat but cute birds and (gold) fish, nothing larger. I’ve been devoted to my other whole for the last fifteen years. That’s the longest I’ve been faithful to someone. I hope he is the same but who knows. Anyway, it doesn’t keep me awake. He’s a big boy he knows what he wants. Let him have it. What about you, are you a loyal person?

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What Do I Care About

…plants. My plants. I care about them so much I often neglected my own needs and put theirs before me. They are the first things I attend to when I wake up in the morning (or evening, or night) even before I tidy up myself even though I care a lot about my personal hygiene too. I don’t care about makeup or beautifying products and only discovered the worth of a lipstick two years ago but I care about maintenance. I like to be clean though I hate the process of doing it. Too much ado and takes too much time. Especially lately when moving is not how it used to be. I won’t elaborate so much on that. Just imagine a machine way passed its time and you will get the picture.

What else I care about… writing. I do that first when it is raining (hard) and it is impossible to go out in my garden. I do it before drinking and eating and doing other things. I care about the books I wrote I made a copy for each of them on a USB stick and carry it with me wherever I go in case the house burns. I care about design too. Interior design. Cohesiveness and proper things in proper places. I care about design so much I will hesitate to buy anything for myself and feel guilty when I succumb to the temptation but I will not have a second thought buying anything for the house (or for the garden) I once spent fifty thousand euro purchasing things to decorate the house. I don’t do that (much) anymore.

Books… I care about books too. I can’t live without them. So maybe it is a need more than care that makes me treasure them. The urge is so strong I steal them from hotels when I’m on holiday. I will go to a lobby of any hotel check the book corner, take what interest me and replace what I took with my own books that I have read already.

Pictures… Images… That’s another thing that I care so much about. So much so that I back up all the copies I have saved in special folders. I don’t care if they are mine or others as long as it speaks to me I will save them.

I care about nature and animals. I don’t have pets but I care about them and hate to see them in captivity like in zoos circus and fair attractions. They belonged to their natural habitat. I believe they are happier there.

I care about underdogs, justice, less fortunate and elderly. I care about order, harmony, tolerance, RESPECT, and equality. There are so many things I care about and needless to say they are also the things that interest me the most.

Disobey

How to Write Bad Poetry:

Start with: SCISSORS

Scissors are very good cutting your prose

into pieces (as well as fending off mobs of real poets).

It works better if you start with

some imagery, such as simile

because if everything is there

in the first place that makes it like

a childhood craft project:

mindlessly cutting and pasting

fragments of thoughts,

searching for meaning.

(a cliché by the way works well,

And may I mention

Add some tension

through predictable rhyme

how simply (time, climb, rhyme! no wait….) sublime!

Don’t even try to count syllables, meter is forbidden. Ridiculously longer lines

Followed with

Short lines

For a

few lines

Really annoy people.

Choose whatever pet peeves

are in season, which leaves

Random

Words

Distributed

Across

The

Page

or web speak (LO and bad spelling,

Rules of Punctuation; whats that

It sounds as useful as putting

St*pid stanzas in my work.

I CALL IT FREE VERSE,

HATER!!

Don’t forget to sprinkle drama liberally:

 

Spellcheck wounds my page,

Like razor blades

cause they’re made

For cutting things ‒ duh.

I can hear my page sigh

I wish I could die

The world is black like my

black boots thigh-high

 

Create rhyme even if it’s grammatically incorrect!!!!11eleventy-1!!

Do you think they’ll notice?

Who created the rules, does anyone know?

Hi-ho, philosophical contemplations below

with my rhetorical questions!

(Is that a Pretense of Pretension?

unseen irony?! OH, NOES!

I did that last climax so fast

I forgot to close my brackets!

 

End with:

TWO FORKS.

Chances are it’ll give most people the shits (bad pun!)

but the forks don’t help with swallowing bad poetry. (and again!)

Chances are your worst critics will call it quits!

Instead, they will stick the forks into their eyes go postal, have suspended computer privileges and will only have rubber safety utensils from there on in.

That way you’ll never know how bad your poetry really was…

Shame, really.

Storage Note: Best kept bottled up in an air tight container as Bad Poetry Stinks.

(found this among my old documents)

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Enamored

… with the works of H. P. Lovecraft, Edgar Allan Poe, and Stephen King. I can sympathize with and relate to them personally. I might not write in the same genre but in the dark corridors of my head dwell the same horrors, the same twisted thoughts that are more real than reality itself. I adore this trio. I love how their minds work. They are the pyramid of my belief in written words, in the power of writing, in the beauty of story telling. They are the corner stones of my passion for creating tales, my source of inspiration. I will be forever in awe of their talents.

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Rhyme

I believe the king of rhyme is Theodor Seuss Geisel otherwise known as Dr. Seuss. Reading his works is like drinking champagne or a cocktail. Because it goes smoothly the effect doesn’t hit home at first sip until much, much later when you realize how potent actually the message is. You know what they say…bubbly gets you drunk quicker.

I used to do it in high school for pocket money, writing poems, mostly for lovesick teenagers trying to woo their crushes. I find that rhyming is the easiest form of poetry. Every one can rhyme. But not everyone can rhyme meaningfully. And in such playful manner without losing the essence intent implication and substance of the point you want to come across. And that’s where Dr. Seuss genius excels. I am not a fan but I’m impressed. And I give credit where credit is due. Here’s an example:

OH, THE PLACES YOU’LL GO!

You have brains in your head.

You have feet in your shoes.

You can steer yourself

Any direction you choose.

You’re on your own. And 

you know what you know.

And YOU are the guy who’ll

decide where to go.

You’ll get mixed up,

of course, as you already know.

You’ll get mixed up with

many strange birds as you go.

So be sure when you step.

Step with care and great

tact and remember that

Life’s A Great Balancing Act.

And will you succeed?

Yes! You will, indeed!

(98 and ¾ percent guaranteed.)

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Visceral

I’d like to think that my posts embodied this very word. For the record, I am not doing it deliberately, it’s just me; I’m all feelings, instincts, and intuitions following and trusting them most of the times. Mind you I do follow my feelings but I take my wits with me, always. I’m not doing that deliberately either. Just my genetic makeup. I am who I am. If you doubt the authenticity of my claim, check this out and this for examples and tell me what you think. I would like to believe also that I am not all feelings all the time. Sometimes I (think) I wrote articles that relating more to the intellect rather than mere feelings. Check this, this and this out if you have the time to explore to have an idea what I mean. I will always be me, leaning on the dark sides writing from the heart and serving it raw without embellishments. No wonder I am not popular. But I will gladly take the anonymity anytime versus writing for likes, comments, popularity, and applause losing my self and my core in the process. No, thank you. I rather be me than follow the crowd, adapt herd mentality and become who I am not. I have to stay true to myself. Hence my gravatar only dead fish go with the flow. I know, I know, we are here to share and be read or otherwise why not keep a bedside journal instead of pouring our hearts online and I agree. We all want to be heard/read that’s why we are here but (and it’s a big but) not at the cost of your own true self. I don’t believe in writing for an audience (unless of course if you have to to pay the bills) I call it forced creativity and I am not a big fan of anything forced. Nothing good can come out of it. I’m talking out of experience. Before I have a verdict I sample the wares first so I would know what I’m blabbing about. Before I run, I want to know what it is I am running from. And after running around with the usual crowds I find out that being a copy of the majority in order to belong is a too high price to pay. It made me unhappy and feeling like a fake I don’t even recognize my own self. It’s easier though than swimming against the current but things that are worthy are worth flexing some muscles. Good exercise. Keep the body and mind healthy. And I’m getting sidetracked again so I will leave you here and till next time.

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Solitary

…should I join the humanity again which I willingly left a long time ago after I danced to their music and sang to their tune and found out that being ‘a copy’ of the majority is a TOO HIGH price to pay in order to belong?

Simon and Garfunkel say:

“I have my books

And my poetry to protect me

I am shielded in my armour

Hiding in my room, safe within my womb,

I touch no one and no one touches me.

I am a rock, I am an island

And a rock feels no pain,

And an island never cries.”

…I chose to be a recluse, a hermit; me and my four walls. I always follow my feelings. I do not think. I worry a lot but never think. Feelings guide me and they never disappoint. I always know what to do.

Lately, I’m afraid I am losing touch. I am becoming blind and confused. I CANNOT feel my way anymore. I’m just stumbling through the days; not really knowing what to do. I ‘m afraid I am losing my true north.

My SOLITARY WORLD had been full of vivid colours, powerful scents, complex feelings, dramatic sounds and it was amazingly three dimensional down to the tiniest of details!

NOT ANYMORE! Lately, it is grey, one dimensional and very flat and far away. As if I am not a part of it. Like watching a film; you are there but not part of what is happening. Like looking through an aquarium. A silent spectator. Hopeless and powerless.

Do I NEED somebody after all? Do I have to be part of the world I despise so much? Am I not the person I thought I am? Is personal freedom not really important as much as I thought it is?

Or I’m getting old and starting to get MELLOW? Realizing for the first time that my own mortality, the things I once valued are not really that important?

Should I creep slowly out of my cave and end my HIBERNATION? See the world again, but this time not alone?

SHOULD I let somebody into my secrets and into my LIFE? SHOULD I?

GOD! It’s scary!

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Random Thoughts

Getting to that point again where it doesn’t feel like the tiles on the floor are cold anymore and the boiling water is missing its bubbles and the boy looks right through you and doesn’t see your eyes. The silent screaming of a girl so unaware of the fact she will rise again and will not be left behind. The notations of quotations that cannot drown but try to swim to middle earth anyways.

Walking home alone is not as bad as being with none around you with no one surrounding you and when you go to say hello they fly back and warn you that they are dangerously in love with you and it’s better to stay right there.

Your career is chosen along with your haircut and the voice in the back of your head is saying something along the lines of today will be cloudy with a chance of depression. The sunny, sunny moon is up and he is so cold, he cannot talk, and when you whisper I miss you all he hears is his own voice the only thing that matters.

9:30 is going time and I don’t see it happening and the dress is waiting and so is my heart for the three words to see if they will ever return. Today be the last day for me to consume and seven will be empty but the results will tell a better story than the change rooms did.

The man with the name that does not please me will try to tease me but realizes I own this game and the time is stopping and my mineral water bottle is empty again. The food shall last a whole weeks’ time or I might have to run away for good and not look back at all that has failed me and not focus on the fact I am exactly what I hate and try to erase the past that prevails me and run, run, run!

(found among old documents)

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Glaring

…undeniable truth of our current climate, society, economy, social/familial morals and values, work ethics, priorities, preferences dreams, goals… the list is endless. We have gone so far that going back is impossible. This generation of sub-humans are lost and we are not even aware of it. We simply don’t care. We watch the fruits of our irresponsible acts and negligence detached pretending it doesn’t have a negative effect on the environment, wildlife, and humanity not to mention the entire planet. We are in denial. Our focus is on extremes. We lost regard of quality and everything that matters. Pleasures, materialism, insatiable desires and appetite for ownership and appropriation whatever the cost are the driving forces of today’s minds. The appeal of acquiring toys comes to lie not in their use anymore but in their status as possessions. Whatever makes us looks good to the eye of our peers must obtain to set us above the rest, to feel powerful, to be in control. And so we think. Even if we wake up and start doing what supposed to be done it’s already too late for us. But it’s not too late for the future generations. We can still right what we have done wrong, not anymore for our own sakes but for those who will come after us so they can teach their youngs the responsibility of taking care of what is truly important. Can we still do it? Of course we can!  Let’s start now.

EarthDay

Carousel

That’s life, full of ups and downs twists and turns. But unlike carousel rides life has many obstacles and you never know what’s around the corner. The journey will never be the same even if you do it over and over again on the very same road with the same people. You can never go back to the past yet you can’t outrun it either. It will catch up with you sooner or later when you least expect it. Life is like that, going round and round but seldom merry. You know what they say… Good things never last. One thing you can say about life is_ it is never boring. There is always something happens to knocks you off your feet. Literally. And not always favorable. I don’t know if it’s a blessing or a curse or both, life’s little surprises. And I don’t know if it is a good idea to write a post when you just woke up and nothing in your stomach wanting to take a bath while listening to the irritating noise of high-pressure cleaner outside knowing you ought to be preparing dinner- a very late one ’cause you woke up too late- instead of playing with the computer keyboard pretending to write. I better get going before I do more damage to this muddled thoughts. Till next time…

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Grit

“Be daring, be different, be impractical, be anything that will assert integrity of purpose and imaginative vision against the play-it-safers, the creatures of the commonplace, the slaves of the ordinary.”

— Cecil Beaton from Berlin Parasites

It takes a lot of small things to create a big pile or a widespread. Take for example a beach, a bouquet, a festival, a mass protest, a chaos, a war. A fight doesn’t happen just like that. It often starts with/from accumulation of small things that become one big thing like dislike, irritation, too much or too little of something. Divorce doesn’t happen overnight unless of course, you are a celebrity, then everything is possible. Suicide, murder, cheating, quitting, being rich, obesity and global warming, those are also products of small loose particles which seem to be harmless at first glance but become a matter of importance when gathered together over a period of time. Stress (which on its own is also a substance of… fill in the blank) lack of sleep and proper nutrition, isolation, no motivation, stimulation, and inspiration can lead to… you can fill in the blank again. You can even type my name in it if you wish. You have my permission to do so. Getting sidetrack again. Anyway, I can go on and on naming examples of what I think grit is all about but I know people don’t care much about long articles. Especially Daily Prompt assignments so, I will leave it here and proceed on looking for something to fill my stomach so hopefully my brain will function normally and perhaps I can find a decent sleep tonight. Happy Tuesday everyone. 

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How Pile of Books Taught Me to Let Go

Spring has sprung, and my 2017 quest to live mindfully, with less clutter, has continued.

I was inspired by an article to try the popular KonMari Method of cleaning. The basic idea is to collect all items of a similar nature from around the home and place them in one pile.

Once gathered, it is much easier to decide what to recycle, give away, or keep. One should start with items with little attachment, like magazines. I easily gave them all away. Then, work toward others with more attachment, like for me, an English major, it is books. I wanted to keep them all forever, no matter how dusty they might be.

Picture this: a tall stack of books with different shapes and colors. How high is the stack in your mind?

Make it grow, so much so that the image from Shel Silverstein’s poem, “Sara Silvia Cynthia Stout,”comes to mind. From the smaller sized Life’s Little Instruction Book and Talking Dirty to the Queen of Clean, to the larger Book of Awakening, there they stood staring at me. It became immediately evident that these books offered a reflection of my life. The titles mirrored the many sides of me and my changes along the way.

Books like KonMari Method and The Minimalists held my hand when I resembled a potential mad woman: cleaning, scrubbing, and purging relentlessly for days. Those titles taught me about my tangled emotions caused by our overload of things.

I faced the fear of perceived judgment; thinking others would judge my ability to be a good wife or mother by how clean my home was. By sorting and clearing, I did the same to the thoughts in my head. As Norman Vincent Peale once said, “Change your thoughts, and you change your world.”

Less stuff in the house equals less stuff to pick off of the ground. I looked forward to more time focused on life’s joys.

Some of the books reminded me of when I acted like a pig in a pile of corn. What was happening in life that I couldn’t slow down and taste my food? When life threw too many lemons my way, I needed to be taught how to sit and sweetly sip lemonade instead. So, I read. Guidebooks like Eight Weeks to Optimum Health and collections of recipes came to the rescue by Alice Waters, Mark Bittman, Gwyneth Paltrow, and much more. I found better foods to crunch and reminded myself how nice meals are at a slower pace.

The lost athlete inside me was in that stack, too. I went from having fun playing sports every day to being injured and idle. Looking back, why did I smack so many tennis balls? Why did I walk at a pro’s pace? Why did I cycle for hours on end? Books like the Inner Game of Tennis: The Classic Guide to the Mental Side of Peak Performance and The Power of Now helped me center my thoughts when I needed focus. Now in my hands, I wondered if I could let those titles go. I wanted to gain all of that back after my knee surgery and rehabilitation.

I thought back to what I needed when I started participating in the 30-day hot yoga challenges over and over again. Meditations from the Mat and 40 Days to Personal Revolution walked me through my quest for self-care. They brought me closer to an inner knowledge and some peace. Those might be the titles to hang on to as my new knee may need a gentler approach.

Lastly, I saw in that stack books my sense of wonder and thirst for something greater. Awareness, How to Have a Mary Heart in a Martha World, The Urban Monk, Ethics in the Real World, The Book of Joy: Lasting Happiness in a Changing World, Love Wins, Tao of Pooh, Kids are Worth It, The Four Agreements, Living Beautifully, and multi-colored prayer books stood out from the crowd. They were among the cherished titles that I have highlighted, scribbled upon, and stained throughout their time in my hands. Each one graciously guided me as life ebbed and flowed.

How was I to know which books to keep and which to toss? The KonMari Method encourages the reader to hold each individual item collected in their hands and feel the response. Does the item bring joy or a memory of joy? If it truly brings joy, one may decide to keep it. However, if it brings up memories or other emotions, let it go. Memories are already with us: We don’t need the tangible reminder collecting dust.

I imagined all of those books in one backpack that I needed to carry for the rest of my life. Then, I laughed—I’m still a book nut with genuine joy in more than a few works. So, I imagined all of those books in a larger roller bag instead.

As I began the next phase, I did it. I, literally, let go. Goodbye to the melancholy. So long to the search for something more. I was happy in the present moment and did not need the crutches that got me here. I kept more than I had originally intended, but most of the stack is gone.

Hopefully, they will now help someone new.

Are there items weighing down your space, thoughts, or life?

Do they look at you as a reminder of what was?

Why are they still with you?

Do you still need them?

If you are ready to make changes, try the KonMari Method. I highly recommend it.

Seeing everything thing you own of one item in a single pile certainly made an impact on me.

~Author: Kate Fleming 

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