Last night
you didn’t come as your youthful self,
my fun, faithful friend.
Instead, bald, broad, and bellied you asked,
your hard question against my thigh:
Why not?
Respect, I said,
Squeamish at your leer.
You lowered your voice to that super serious tone
I remember so well.
Really?
So much doubt.
Yes.
Really.
Even in my dreams I’m over this.
You drive away after a visit.
“He got his licence back!”
“That’s great for 101!”
“No! He’s 105 now!”
“and blind!”
Oh, dad.
Thanks for stopping by
to make me laugh
in dreams.
In her 2019 Oscar acceptance speech, Lady Gaga said,
“If you are at home, and you’re sitting on your couch and you’re watching this right now, all I have to say is that this is hard work. I’ve worked hard for a long time, and it’s not about, you know…it’s not about winning. But what it’s about is not giving up. If you have a dream, fight for it. There’s a discipline for passion. And it’s not about how many times you get rejected or you fall down or you’re beaten up. It’s about how many times you stand up and are brave and you keep on going.”
Great dreams.
Big hopes.
Massive endeavours.
Long journeys.
All large things
take little steps.
Bit by bit
bite by bite
step by step.
War and Peace
started with one word
on the page.
Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony
began with one note.
Huge
begins
small.
Just
begin.
I was dreaming a poem,
consigning rhymes and arguing assonance.
This is the metaphor:
even my subconscious searches
for the words.
I’m
circling
I’m
adding,
growing, and
learning.
I’m
becoming
the dream me
I see her
in
laughter
applause
award
I’m
circling
up to the prize
it’s closer
and
closer
with every
word.
.
.
I just came back from the annual Surrey International Writers’ Conference. My first year there, I successfully pitched to a publisher. My third time I successfully pitched to an agent. When I first started attending, I admired the amazing writing of the winners of the $1000 Storyteller Award and the humorous writing by the winners of the 75 word Silly Write contest. I dreamed of winning those contests. I’ve entered a couple of pieces 5 or 6 times over the years. This year I didn’t have a project to pitch, but I submitted to both contests. I was short listed for the Storyteller (3rd year in a row short listed for a writing contest at SIWC!) and my entry came second in the Silly Write. I was thinking “Always the bridesmaid, never the bride.” 🙂 On the other hand, I feel the precipice I’m standing on- I am appreciating the fine line of difference between good and great.
When several hundred people are laughing at your jokes and cheering when your name is called, you can’t help but feel inspired.
You know how there comes a time when the craftsman requires particular tools to create true art? Because of the amazing craft workshops I attended (Donald Maass, Diana Gabaldon, Susanna Kearsley, Shari Green) and meal conversations (Larry Brooks, Nephele Tempest, Jack Whyte) I feel like I’ve been given the master tools that will make the difference to leap off the precipice and FLY. I feel that intangible sense that things are about to change, and I’m excited!
In my dreams
two cookies appear on my plate
when I glance down
I have eaten one.
In dismay I think
I just won’t eat the other,
but next glance,
it is gone, too.
I think, how strange, I eat
without even noticing.
That’s a bad habit.
.
.
(39 days on the diet–twenty pounds down–apparently my subconscience craves cookies?)
