More snow poetry

Snow clouds wrap around the
horizon like a blanket you just
pulled from a cold linen closet
I long to see a the red splash of a
cardinal darting between snow
covered branches, diving for seeds,
before the next arctic storm
covers us in a fresh layer of snow,
gives me an excuse to join you
under the comforter and wrap
around each other.

Snow poem

I don't know if you've heard, but the Midwest had record levels of snow last weekend. I helped one of my partners dig out and I can tell you, I felt every 20 inches of those drifts. I started a poem over the snow day but was distracted by hot coco, so I never finished it.

Then I lost it! First poem I've written in 2 years and I lost it.

So I'm going to pull a Tenacious D moment and give you a poem about the greatest snow poem that ever was. It's not the poem, but a tribute.


Snow Poem
a tribute

It snowed 20" this weekend-
The Bradford Pear was laden
with the heavy weight of a
winter storm, boughs creaked
in the whip-cold wind, puffs of
white exploded and dropped heavy
to the drifts below until 20 inches
felt more like 30 inches and
the dog was lost beneath;
I know you were wishing
that the snow would finish off
that invasive tree, would snap it in
twain, but you didn't say it out loud.

Working on my night cheese...

I like cheese, y'all. Aw yes. Cheese and tea while I write? Perfect combo.

Thursday is all about diving back into my novel. I left my dragon in a precarious situation, perhaps even on the brink of death, and I need to find a way through it. The next scene is a big deal. The next scene is the last big scene, the climax, and then I only have to tie up some loose ends. Soon, very soon, my trilogy will be over.

Woah.

It's so weird to think I've almost finished the bones of the trilogy. I mean, I know I have a whole life of editing to do, but damn. I know it's too early to celebrate, but this is going to be a huge mile marker for me.

2019, I'm coming for you.

Big Dreams for the Year

Hello, readers!

Some big things are going on in my world. I'm finishing up some writing projects that I hope see the light of day sometime this glorious new year.

I also did a new thing! I created an author's page on Facebook. Be like the cool kids and go follow it, if you're so inclined.

Our writing collective had a productive meeting last night. I did some major goal setting for the new year and one of those goals is to start writing poetry again. It's time to put out a new chapbook, don't you think? So prepare yourself for some rough draft blog poems, again. Taking it back to the beginning of the blog, oh yes.



Speaking of chapbooks- haven't read my chapbook a record of night? Well you're just in time for a shameless plug. Check it out!

If you like what you read, please leave me a review at Amazon. This is a great way to support your local author-friend. Wink wink nudge nudge.

A response to somebody who made me feel scared...

A few days ago, I was scrolling through my facebook "On This Day" feature and a post from 2014 popped up. I read the first few lines and everything came flooding back. All of my fear, my feelings of helplessness came flooding back.

It's not public so allow me to share what it said:

I just got a super creepy voice mail from somebody with a NYC zip left on my phone. The person was saying the following as though it was a poem (lines made where they paused)...

out of my car
the car i thought i was driving
in the middle of nowhere
in the middle of night
in the middle of your body
the wrong turns i took
and ended up somewhere
in a place I never expected
in a place i could not recognize
the wrong turns that took me somewhere else
the sky there
the sea there
in the middle of your body
in the middle of nowhere
in the middle of night

When I texted "Who is this?" to the number, I received an automated reply that read, "Thanks for the message. Configure your number's SMS URL to change this message. Reply HELP for help. Reply STOP to unsubscribe. Msg and Data rates may apply." I replied, "STOP" and received this message, "You have successfully been unsubscribed. You will not receive any more messages from this number. Reply START to resubscribe." So then I called the number and received a clearly automated voice asking me to reconfigure my SMS URL.

Ummmmmmmmmmmmmm wtf?

At the time, I remember feeling so helpless, so scared. It felt like a threat. Whoever this human was, they felt entitled to read me anonymous words that talked about violating my body. This coward didn't even have the balls to identify themselves. Maybe they didn't know me? Maybe it was a random call? I googled the words to see if they were references; there were no helpful results in 2014 and none in 2018.

In 2014, several friends suggested it was a pre-recorded poem sent as a "goof" but there was nothing humorous about it.

I still don't know who sent it.

To be honest with you, I don't know why it's important for me to share this to my writing blog. Perhaps the notion that somebody used poetry to terrorize me. That's so fucked up.

Be ethical with your words and actions.

Procrastinating

This post is procrastinating and about procrastinating.

Are you familiar with the "You Should Be Writing" memes put out by Writing about Writing?

These are photos from the FB page. Familiar? Because I need them branded into my brain. I have been such a procrastinator. I am sure you are unsurprised, readers. This man provides a valuable service for humans such as me.

But I'm still going to get this done ya'll. It's happening. I need to be done with this series! Plus, I need to start editing so that it's vaguely cohesive! Queers saving the world! Needs more dragons. OH, that's A GOOD IDEA.

I guess I should be writing. Happy Camp NaNoWriMo month, y'all!

Pride is over- now some upkeep

I am working on an interview with a very awesome poet to share with y'all, and I was hoping to get it done last month, but I guess that means we'll just have a surprise later in the month.

Speaking of the month! It's camp NaNo! So let's all get our write on. I will either be totally absent from blogging this month or blog a lot while I'm procrastinating. Tis the way of life.