Haiku 4 - Full Moon Tonight

Triple reflection
glows in moonlit window glass.
Pregnant trinity.

Growth

I finally prevented every frantic thought from bursting from my lips
I finally resisted building borders for her based on my own neuroses
I finally stopped myself from spooling out what-if stories
that ramp up my negativity and swell the flood of my panic
wherein if I don't direct its every tide, the entire universe will breach its walls
and I might be forced to confront the tsunami of my own issues
of distrust
of abandonment
of un-worth
It only took me a thousand years
to gain a degree control over my jealousy
to harness my fretful insecurity
to ratchet down my fear to a tolerable level
To what extent I can maintain
restrain
contain
is a long uneven platform.
It took me this long to take one shuddering step.
The route ahead is uncertain.
But I can be grateful for every opportunity to grow
I can be brave and trust my love to keep me safe
I can rest in the unknown that surrounds even the most convinced
without lining out my ultimatums against the day
that all my darkly spun predictions materialize.
I can take the next step on faith.

Gratitude

Some are of auspicious origin
from families steeped in infinite wealth.
My birth offered no promise of inheritance
to anything but obligation.
I'll take it.

Some grow to be powerful -
their influence reaching like octopus arms.
I have control over nothing but myself
and even that's limited.
I'm okay with it.

Some are so beautiful it hurts
and so talented they take my breath away.
I am plump and pedestrian
and averagely plain.
I revel in it.

Some would look at my life;
completely overlook my many blessings,
scorn my everyday pleasures,
and disdain my mediocrity.
I'm sorry for them.

I know my fortune lies in the awareness -
in the wonder and marvel at how truly fortunate I am -
in the deep appreciation I feel
for the gift of each. miraculous. moment.
I choose my own, beautiful reality.

Some want only what they don't have
and don't value what they do have.
I know I've been given everything I need and more.
Of all the luck...
I'll take mine.

Breathe

I want to immortalize my love for you in a poem or a song,
but I'm not sure how.

When I ask myself what you mean to me,
it's like asking what my skin means to me
or my arms or my legs.

It's like asking how I feel about the fact that I'm allowed to breathe in
every few seconds.

I need it desperately. I can't live without it. It allows me to be who I am.
It's beautiful, satisfying, and feels so right.
I'm possessive and I guard it, aware of how I need it.
It's such a part of me that I often take it for granted.
When I remember to be, I'm so incredibly grateful.

So I guess here's your poem.
I love you more than breathing.

Creativity

I did some research for my blogging group on good sites to raise your creativity quotient. For myself, a writing assignment usually does it, but some of these great sites can help as well.

Writing Prompts

http://pymprompts.blogspot.com/

http://weeklywritingassignment.com/

http://oneminutewriter.blogspot.com/

http://www.creativity-portal.com/howto/writing/writing.prompts.html

http://danielnester.com/2010/02/09/78-blog-writing-prompts-from-my-blogging-students-2/ (just for fun)

http://www.dailyblogtips.com/

http://www.timetowrite.blogs.com/

http://mindbump.com/

http://thedailymeme.com/ (If you’re not familiar with memes, read http://www.chrisg.com/what-is-a-blog-meme/ )


Good Creativity Blog Lists

http://www.blogs.com/topten/10-blogs-to-stimulate-your-creativity/

http://abundance-blog.marelisa-online.com/2009/01/29/awesome-creativity-blogs/


Limited Disclaimer: I don’t believe any of these sites have adult content – at least last time I visited.

Flow

the words are flowing again
not in straight lines; never in straight lines
i struggle to get in the habit of catching them...
they're cottonwood fluff balls
wafting by on hot summer days
i try to snatch them out of the air
like mr miagi with his chopsticks

Haiku 3 - "Middle" Age?

The almanac lied.
Autumn began at forty.
Falling apart fast.

Haiku 2 - Plateau

The stubborn scale mocks:
Time for thin is after death.
I hunger in vain.

Barrows

If I let it, the snow piles and drifts.
So deep, and deeper.
So cold, til it’s warm.
So silent, my underground mausoleum tomb.

When I’m in, I can perceive no way out.
When I’m out, the way back is ever clear.
So tempting, I yearn.
So enticing, the dampening shield of protective womb.

Even in spring thaw
so warm in its bright yellow light,
the quiet of sun’s rays ensnare
to lay me out dry on a grassy hill of silence.

Even when immersed in sound – in busy – in bustle
I hear its soundless call.
Voiceless, I understand.
Murmuring and hushed, I attend the better.

I could be lured back by circumstance or pain.
By inattention or carelessness.
In truth, I could be drawn in by floating motes
disguised as secret longing
to be covered in snow.

Haiku 1 - Commute

Dreary wet freeway
I race on toward warmth and love
Home, my asylum

Melting

“You’re melting” someone said.
It was intended as a compliment
and I dutifully thanked her but in reality I have felt my presence diminish.
I take up less space in the world with this body.
What will be left in its’ place?
As I whittle down the outer shell, literally,
I get figuratively closer
to the crystallized center of me
I soften
become quieter
truer to my nature
I don’t have to be loud funny boisterous cheerful entertaining.
I don't have to show how insanely happy with myself I am
to keep them from feeling sorry for me.
I can be diminished and go into the west, I guess.
And remain Ronda.