My gluten-free pot
creates a stir –
and why not?
The heart of my dish
stirs the soul:
sprinkle what’s forgot.
pic credit: yayyayoy
NaPoWriMo Day 2: soul recipe
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Category Archives: creativity
NaPoWriMo Day 1: remembering to bloom
And so the month of memory
begins to tickle my heart.
A month to delve deep
and recover my soul;
for my barest branch
to grow plump-pink blossoms.
(pic copyright: Clairev)
And still I’m blocked…
All the work I’ve done on myself:
the therapy, the healing,
the certificates I’ve gained,
the triumph of Masters degrees.
And still I’m blocked.
All the promises I’ve made,
to stay true to my talent,
seem to land on fertile turf,
yet remain fallow, dry, non-manifest.
And still I’m blocked.
All the years I’ve passed,
with fresh intentions each Jan
that fade to grey, nudging into Feb.
In March it’s as if they never began.
And still I’m blocked.
All the distractions I excitedly seek.
New garden: tick. Weekly weeding: tock.
Jobs to take my mind off the task,
decade after decade. That’s the shock.
And still I’m blocked.
All the futures I’ll never achieve:
what will be my hand-me-down glory?
A creative life chronically unlived?
Or trusting what’s for me won’t go past me?
Knowing all of this… and more.
And still I’m blocked.
(pic courtesy of freedigitalphotos.net/KROMKRATHOG)
a tritina for my enigmatic muse
You fragrance the warmth that resides in my heart.
Your heat is implicit in my aromatic words,
and yet consistency’s missed from your promised bouquet.
I dream of wild lily to spice your bouquet.
I pray for pale rose to prod my yearning heart
into blooming, creating a garden of words.
You hide in the trees, whispering the words
I need to capture and show in a scented bouquet.
Speak louder, please: help me speak from my heart.
Let me express my heart in a bouquet of ardent words.
My response to Day 7 of NaPoWriMo 2016: write a tritina
amazing grace
Your grace goes free,
a gift to all:
in your lash, your smile,
we’re all enthralled.
Day Three of NaPoWriMo 2016: fan letter to a celebrity
Pic copyright: Lucien Milasan
my creative heart
my creative heart has been
beating but not seen,
patiently not known,
hoping, lying in wait
that one day, like this,
I would notice its pulse
and take heed of its sounds
listen to its beat,
see all its signs,
act on its guidance.
Create, at last,
what makes it sing.
A full-hearted swing
at life’s infinite joy.
(pic courtesy of freedigitalphotos.net/cuteimage)
Trust vs Fear: the creative writer’s dilemma
Fear:
I creep around, spying other’s glory
through shrouds of envy and spite.
I stress, I spew belligerent bile,
I despoil what feels my birthright.
Trust:
If you only knew what your heart could spill.
If you only could allow
those creative gales to transform your gall
into work that makes you feel proud.
Fear:
That gale just feels like a deadly whip
that will beat my words to a pulp,
reducing me to a limping pace
while the rest of the world can gallop.
Trust:
Gallop implies a race to somewhere
while your journey is yours alone.
Pick supreme, your heart’s main theme,
and you’ll romp to the place called home.
A poem for Day 14 of NaPoWriMo 2015: A dialogue
