NaPoWriMo.net prompt to use a photo from @SpaceLiminalBot’s feed for inspiration:
It’s all about perspective, isn’t it?
I’m swimming in a world gone awry
looking for the ladder of escape
which way’s up?
Today’s prompt from NaPoWriMo.net involves making a universal deck of 100 words and then drawing a couple of words. I don’t have time or inclination to do that, but I do have this lovely Paint Chip Poetry kit, and that seems to suit the spirit of the prompt.
I received my Paint Chip Poetry kit from my Writerly Kit Subscription Box, a fun box of writerly inspiration that arrives in my mailbox ever couple of months. I’ve even been a feature writer for the kit, which was an honour.
penny… tea leaves…
I quite like how there’s a whole story unfolding in this one! It reminds me of this family legend:
A gypsy told my paternal grandmother that she would have a grand-daughter. Since Dad’s wife at the time couldn’t have kids, and they’d adopted 3 boys, it was thought impossible. But Dad had a second wife, and when my grandmother was 86, she got to hold me! She died the following year.
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That way lies madness, dear.
Keep your eyes on the path you chose.
What might have been?
What could have been?
All dangerous conjecture.
Celebrate this self, right here.
Embrace what is.
.NaPoWriMo Day 2 The official prompt from napowrimo.net today: Explore your own “Road not Taken”
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I used to gleam.
Shining sparkling day-glo shimmer
You know what I mean?
But Covid, man.
It’s worn me out.
Dulled my bright-light
What’s this exhaustion about?
It’s just going to work,
same as before
Just wearing a mask
washing hands, washing hands, and washing some more.
What’s so tiring about that?
I have absolutely no clue
But I’m heading to bed now at dinner time.
How are you?
#NaPoWriMo Day 1. The official prompt from napowrimo.net was a video that triggered my TBI sensory over-load so I couldn’t watch it. I’ve come home from work, and again it’s not even 6 p.m. and I’m ready to crawl into bed with an eye mask, a heating pad, and an audio book. I can’t believe how exhausted I am all the time now! How’s a girl supposed to get poetry written, let alone books and stories! Arg. I hope you’re feeling less exhausted.
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mournful fly past.
The year is reborn
Why does my heart
hear autumn’s sorrow?
Here’s a peek at my writing zone.
The desk was built by my grandfather about 70 years ago. I inherited it when my mom died last summer. I was so happy to find an ergonomic (tilting!) keyboard tray with a swing-away mouse pad that fit between its drawers, so I can fit my ergnomic keyboard and mouse, and it tucks right up underneath when I’m done working.
The bookshelf shows a bit of my collection of writing resources, some practical, some fun!
Close ups of my (custom) mug and my needle-felted desk poodle, made from some of OJ’s wool, and finally a shot out the window of a pretty sunset over the hills earlier in the month.
My desk has to be in its own room, because I am too messy to work in a public zone. (Yes, I tidied before taking the photo!)
Do I work at this desk all the time? No. I will also work out on my porch swing in the summer, in the bath (using a full-size waterproof keyboard) or on my living room couch. However, if I’m doing a lot of writing or particularly formatting, the ergonomic set-up is important for avoiding pain. I never write in coffee shops, because I live in small place, so people are always interupting to visit. 🙂
If you’re a writer, what does your desk look like?
Here is a ‘black out’ poem, aka ‘erasure’ poem. This is a type of found poetry. The text from this one comes from Janet Whitehead’s book Beyond All Imaginings.
I just received my Writerly Kit, and was delighted to discover this month’s cool item: Paint Chip Poetry. Here is my first poem.
Far, far away
hot lava, fire, ember
jasmine tea leaves
I sit down across from them
meet his melancholy eyes,
give him a sad smile, whisper
“I’m so sorry for your loss.”
He nods, glancing longingly at his wife
before I remember,
he’s the one
(RIP Rob. Thanks for the dream visit).