Posted in random, Writerly Advice, Writing, Writing and all its cousins

Writing Is…

https://platform.twitter.com/widgets.js

*Wise Words
Found on Twitter
Loved it so much I had to share

Advertisements
Posted in drafts/jewelsintherough, life and reflection, poetry, Prompts for Writers, Writer's Prompts, Writing, Writing and all its cousins

Someone Should Have Brought a Compass (Love’s Path)

 

We never knew our way around this place

Content to navigate blindly

The lost leading the lost

I tripped you up and picked you up

You tripped me up and picked me up

Love kept us going,

Or pride

Invested efforts in the wrong direction

Never knew our way

 Method to My Madness 🙂

*Inspired by Day 5 of Writers Digest PAD Challenge

Theme: Disguise

So, around midnight, I started thinking, what can I  do for day five? As we know, this is what my brain does at bedtime.

Slowly, a bundle of words emerged:

We never knew our way around this place, but we were content to navigate blindly, more like the lost leading the lost.  I tripped you up and helped you up, you tripped me up and helped me up. Love kept us going, or pride. Invested an effort in the wrong direction. We never knew our way.

Well, not that bundle of words. It was more like a destruction of words:

066

Yeah.

sms aka whatevertheyaint  11/17

Posted in life and reflection, Perhaps...I'll Let You In, random, Writing and all its cousins

I Can Only Speak for Myself

Initially, there’s this raw space. We may wonder how it got there, or more importantly, why it’s there.  Perhaps we conditioned ourselves early in life to bandage wounds and carry on, so we slap a Band-Aid on it until it festers, not realizing that giving it time to breathe is better than covering it over.

Then, somewhere during the process, a scab forms. There’s this protective layer now, and we go about our daily routines as we did before. That is until we accidentally bump that spot, exposing it again.  Maybe we overestimated ourselves, or maybe we were just trying to…forget. In any event, there it is. And yes, it still hurts.

An undetermined amount of time passes, and we notice the scab is now a smooth scar. We run our fingers over it, remembering that unsightly place.  But we can do it now, we can run our hand across that area. It reminds us that grief cut us open.  Yet, we survived.

SSM-S

aka Whatevertheyaint

Oct 2017

 

 

 

  • I can only speak for my own experiences. Like most people, there have been more than a few negative events in my life, but I learned to just acknowledge them and allow myself to go through the process. This poem came from waiting on a sore to heal on my leg and then, at random (which tends to happen when I’m ready for my brain to SHUT DOWN), thinking how wounds are a lot like the process of grieving, or dealing with any life-changing event. 

 

 

Posted in Writerly Advice, Writing

What Do You Love More?

BREVITY's Nonfiction Blog

Not even her best backbend

Before I was a writer, I was an acrobat. Not the kind that flips through the air–the kind who holds up other smaller, younger acrobats who look better in the same spandex costume. A “base.”

I loved it. I loved being the one who makes sure everyone is ready, calls the move, Hup!, then adjusts while the flyer holds still. Stay straight, tight and trusting. Don’t balance yourself, let me balance you.

I loved that I could lift men bigger than me and women in acrobat class who were also bigger than me and had spent years not letting anyone lift them because they felt “too heavy.” That I could grab someone the right size and move them through a basic routine right away, as long as they did exactly what I said. I got really good at giving directions, verbal cues, nudging with…

View original post 811 more words