Tag Archives: napowrimo

what’s the buzz, tell me what’s a-happenin’…

3 May

Have I mentioned that I stalk all things musical theatre? The title is a reference to one of my favorite jams from Jesus Christ Superstar. Anyway, Happy Friday to you, and you, and you. Following is the buzz on yours truly, what’s been happenin’ (and very entertainment-y, as you’ll see):

  • NaPoWriMo was a complete success. Woo hoo! Thanks to all who read my work, poemadaycommented, followed this blog, etc., in the month of April. I’m even more in love with poetry, if that’s humanly possible, and we’re registered at the local library if you want to get us anything. (Way to wrangle a metaphor, no?) In general, I learned that I really can write every day, if I put my mind to it. I suppose all that raucous laughter at a fellow writer who once told me he gets up at 5am every morning to write was unwarranted, huh? Sorry.
  • The summer movie season is starting and I’m trying not to drool with excitement. Beginning with this film, starring an actor that I’ve adored since antiquity (already bought my ticket for tomorrow, yeah!), I intend on fully taking advantage of this time of year. After IM3, I wait with bated breath for The Great Gatsby, Star Trek Into Darkness, Man of Steel, etc., etc. Reviews will be provided, naturally. Did you know about my lifelong obsession fascination with summermoviesall things comic book, sci-fi, and general popcorn fun? Hey, I may prefer a literary adaptation or a British accent in film, but I still gets my fun on. But we never talk about that stuff on here because, well, I’d rather talk about other things. But it’s Friday, so have at it, Kitten Heel Marvel.
  • Anyone heard of Netflix? When I’m not working, or taking care of life, or eating, or sleeping, or stalking summer movies or musical theatre or Robert Downey, Jr., I’m glued to the old iPad, watching everything from Bollywood films to Murder, She Wrote as they stream on Netflix. Sigh. I would complain about the utter waste of time, but…I love it.

This last thing going on in my life is a bit beyond bullets and a quick summary. You remember this. Well, things got kind of interesting. As in the quiet, almost nonchalant way I was approaching my feelings about this individual didn’t necessarily change, but I was talking about him a lot. A lot. Talking about him turned into wondering whether he shared my feelings, which turned into he obviously shared my feelings, based on his peripheral staring of me, which turned into a much-needed intervention from my concerned best friend after listening to my ramblings about this guy. I lost my marbles a bit. Side-eyed staring (which seriously happened like two times) and other non-events are not indicators of mutual interest. In the end, I’m just grateful for the tough love dispensed by my bestie. Said tough love even inspired me to write an essay, which I submitted here for consideration. I’ll provide updates should it be published. Anyway, crushes are ok, but I want more and will hold out for just that.

Onwards, and bon weekend!

Day Thirty.

29 Apr

Poem

what is a poem but a plan?

i, your brownie,
will be in like and in like and
turn the pages of time and
fly to the heights of the sky
with you.

we don’t need a home in
Emerald City, love,
for it will be right here, in our
simple home with our unencumbered
rooms.

for 1 + 1 equals me and you,
and we will always be the answer—
dancing and tumbling because
we want to, and saying it all the while
aloud, no mind reading.

it will always be autumn for us:
living in the centers of both our worlds,
hardly relegated to corners or the
uncertainty of infatuation,
you, my little bee.

no paper doll here, but the real thing:
a real, beating heart,
real gratitude for you,
the real me for real you,
no archetypes necessary.

i will accept the company
of you, and i will always choose you,
because you’re the prettiest apple
of the eye a woman could ask for
and not defer.

from Emerald City to Damascus to Emmaus,
every step and place brimming with clarity—
our L-O-V-E,
electric in its glee and maturity,
unshackled and free.

you are the ink in my pen,
and I’ll rhyme for you, just say when,
the moon in your sky,
ready to shout and reply
that our love will never burn.

But here it is:
whether rain or shine,
whether push or pull,
you will always be the “you”
in verse, fiction, or haiku.

yes, what is a poem but a plan?

Day Twenty Nine.

29 Apr

I Hate Rainy Days.

Stop the rain.
Part the clouds.
Bring the sun.

It is unfair,
surely,
that our burgeoning love
hinges on your control
of the elements,
but it does.
So get to work.

Day Twenty Eight.

28 Apr

Sun Haiku (Lament More)

oh, powerful sun,
will you ever realize
that the love you share
should refuse to be bound by
a solar eclipse?

Day Twenty Seven.

27 Apr

Whispering.

Don’t mind me, dear,
as I push you toward this rooftop,
right up to the very edge,
as close as you can get to the very heavens themselves,
as close as you can get to the air and the atmosphere–
And, dear, don’t mind me
as I grab your mouth and pry those stubborn lips apart and force you shout it from there, from the rooftops,
from the top of the world,
that you love me.
And I’ll make you shout it again and again and again–
For enough time has passed now, and you must shout me back into your arms or say nothing at all.
But I will no longer abide by your whispering.

Day Twenty Six.

26 Apr

Moon Haiku
(Lament No More)

my miserable
moon, when will you realize
that he may own the
sky, but you control the tides?
he burns; you consume.

Day Twenty Five.

25 Apr

The Rhymer

 

I began to tire of all these poems about you.

Catharsis by way of rhyme, or pentameter, or haiku.

 

All the hidden words, all the hidden meanings,

Solely about you–how it was, how I was feeling.

 

And so I set to banish you from the ink of this pen,

Set to relegate you to the past, how things were then.

 

But a little problem manifested itself immediately at the start,

It seemed I neglected to banish you from my heart.

 

But what is so wrong with you being poetic fodder?

I need subjects, ideas, words–are you really such a bother?

 

A new plan began to form, a seed growing in my head.

Rather than banish you, I will wake you up instead.

 

You will be my muse, my creativity, my never-will-part

Until we deal with these remnants of you still clinging to my heart.

 

And so rather than say goodbye, I will say hello again.

And put you to work, by way of this pen.

Day Twenty Four.

24 Apr

Payless Shoes

Do you have these shackles in my size?
Yes, I am going to a special event, thank you for asking.
And I really do prefer to be encumbered by shiny
insecurities, self-doubt, and plenty of personal psychological
poison.

Ma’am? Make sure they will be tight around my feet?
Really tight; and a little sparkly,
too, for the man that will come in my life.
A woman with sparkly shackles on her own feet?
Please—it’s romance heaven.

Hon? I will need accessories, too.
I’ll take a few specific chains for my wrists:
self-hatred, sabotage, venom directed to those
of my own gender (because you know we can’t be
trusted), and unnecessary blame, because, well,
you can’t go to this particular event without a scapegoat.

Right?

No bag for me, dear.
I intend to walk out of here with these things on,
and I certainly intend on turning heads.
But can you please help me to my destination?
I can’t walk.

It’s just in that corner over there, yes,
in that windowless room.
It’s a beautiful, dark corner, isn’t it? I made it myself.
Perfect.
Yes, just close that door and be sure to lock it.

Now.

Life begins!

Day Twenty Three.

23 Apr

Mourning Becomes the Body Electric.

I move from grief to giddy
like a shadow,
passing between the thresholds
of two vastly different worlds.
keep moving me and keep wounding me,
for I’d rather feel everything than nothing at all.

Day Twenty Two.

22 Apr

Alphabet Epiphany
(For X)

At no surprise to me, you never admitted fault,
Believing that I was far too generous in my
Certainty of us, of you, of this thing of ours, to notice.
Dear, you underestimated me.
Everything was so clear, so plain,
From the beginning.
Going forth, though, I was a bit aware that
Honesty wasn’t your strongest suit, yes, but
I was in that particular place, where
Judging you was not as important as
Keeping you, which I so
Longed to do.
My priorities have shifted, however,
Necessitating this little conversation.
Of course, you will dismiss me—
Putting me down, as you like to do;
Questioning my values, my intelligence, my will;
Reasoning that I have returned to my old ways;
So sure that
Tomorrow will bring changed minds and
Unabashed declarations of a resurgent love.
Vows are vows, you will say,
We have to stay together. But I will still ask you to leave,
X,
Yearning for but knowing that we will never reach the
Zenith of us, of you, of this thing of ours.

BJ & FE SCOTT

...LIVING THE BEST LIFE EVER!

Sincerely, Taj

Dear World, I have stuff to say, so get cozy. Here, I've got cupcakes.

Fully Awake and Alive

A collection of poetry and essays on politics, social justice and the condition of humanity

Kristen Hope Mazzola

Everyone has a story; this is mine

vivaciousverses

When all fails, write a poem. You might succeed in that, so what's there to lose?

Dear Husband|Dear Wife|Dear Baby

Little somethings to one another

Traipsing After Jane

The Writing Life of Pamela Aidan

Welcome to My Empty Nest

Musings from Mama Bird

Globetramp

Conquering the world...one döner kebab at a time

tryingtowriteit

Have you finished that book yet?

The Victoria/Italia Project

Finding My Way Back

betweenfearandlove

Learning the importance of self-worth

Bucket List Publications

Indulge- Travel, Adventure, & New Experiences

The Daily Post

The Art and Craft of Blogging

%d bloggers like this: