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

Writing Is…

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*Wise Words
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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 ūüôā

*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 random, Writing and all its cousins, Your Turn

AS SOON AS (AKA AS WE PREPARE TO WRITE)

As Soon As

  • I can afford another chair, a “real” chair, preferably non-rust, indestructible, with arm rest and the option to lean back, forward, or twirl around as I deem fit.

 

  • I land 12 hours of restorative sleep

 

  • I create THE perfect ¬†playlist

 

  • Fridge is fully stocked with Coke and my mouth with Hershey’s candy

 

  • I complete to-do list. Yes, all seven days worth of must dos (except writing, of course)

 

  • I surf websites I don’t care about

 

  • Clear inbox(es)

 

  • ¬†X out ¬†parts I don’t like

 

  • Put everything back

 

  • Decide for the umpteenth time (because I really¬†thought I had) what to write and how to write it

 

  • Make another list

 

 

Your turn. What are your top five excuses when preparing to write?

 

 

 

 

 

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

For That I Am Sorry

There’s something she didn’t give you

Affection,

attention?

Whatever it was it wasn’t enough

She wasn’t scarred enough,

Didn’t understand your demons

She didn’t laugh enough, live

But what she provided was stability,

Loyalty, all the boring words one looks for

Beyond adventure and fun

Yet, she failed. In a sense, you failed each other

You sought solace in dark places,

Hell and shot glasses

She swept broken pieces,

Only to hurt herself in the end

And you’ll never honestly say,

This is why you couldn’t save me

And she’ll never really¬†know

What you needed saving from

 

*

 

sms aka whatevertheyaint

3/2017

 

 

 

 

 

Posted in life and reflection, poetry, Writing

January, Untitled

Without you, my days would consist of web surfing and naps
Too much quiet, too much time for melancholy
Miles would remind me I’m Kind of Blue
And I’d drink Merlot for breakfast
And lunch. And dinner, too
You’d ask if I’m falling apart;
I’d answer,The Merlot is gone
Too much time. Too much time without you
You ask if I’m falling apart. I think how empty life would be
Without you

 

sms aka whatevertheyaint

Jan 25 2017

Posted in everyday living, life and reflection, Perhaps...I'll Let You In, poetry, random, Writing

Untitled, September 2016

this is a comfortable life,
the repeating of words
did you brush your teeth?
please pick up your shoes
the toilet’s still broken
please, pick up your shoes!
tasks and outcomes
faucet still leaking
more piles to pick up
it’s fine, really
we take on titles
our names irrelevant
with each metamorphosis

this is a satisfying life,
the repeating of words
why don’t you buy a wallet?
please fix the gazebo
the wipers are broken
seriously! pick up your shoes
plausible outcomes
brake-fluid still leaking
more hats to pile on
we take on roles
our names irrelevant
with each version
of ourselves

SmS aka Whatevertheyaint 9-2016