I once believed in America

I, Too
I, too, sing America.

I am the darker brother.
They send me to eat in the kitchen
When company comes,
But I laugh,
And eat well,
And grow strong.

I’ll be at the table
When company comes.
Nobody’ll dare
Say to me,
“Eat in the kitchen,”

They’ll see how beautiful I am
And be ashamed—

I, too, am America.

When Hughes wrote this poem it was a singularly significant affirmation to tell the history of United States through the lens of the African-American experience. It embodies that history at a particular point in the early 20th century when Jim Crow laws throughout the South enforced racial segregation; and argues against those who would deny that importance—and that presence.
Although today, it could be any immigrants story as most of us know all too well.

Motivation Monday

“Success is not final; failure is not fatal: It is the courage to continue that counts. It is better to fail in originality than to succeed in imitation.”

I’ve been working on poetry forms again. The focus I find is helping me rethink my word usage in my book. Writers are guilty of using extra verbiage that doesn’t add to the story.

I decided to give a Fib aka Fibonacci for short a try because of its rigid structure.

Form: Fibonacci~ 8 Lines~ Syllabic Structure: 1/1/2/3/5/8/13/21

In mathematics, the Fibonacci numbers are the numbers in the following integer sequence, called the Fibonacci sequence, and characterized by the fact that every number after the first two is the sum of the two preceding. Fib is an experimental Western poetry form, bearing similarities to haiku, but based on the Fibonacci sequence. That is, the typical fib and one version of the contemporary Western haiku both follow a strict structure. The typical fib is a six line, 20 syllable poem with a syllable count by line of 1/1/2/3/5/8 – with as many syllables per line as the line’s corresponding place in the Fibonacci sequence; the specific form of contemporary Western haiku uses three (or fewer) lines of no more than 17 syllables in total. The only restriction on a Fib is that the syllable count follows the Fibonacci sequence.


Barriers Aside


to take steps.
A bold move beyond
the usual path love follows.
I want no boundaries, no rules to confine my heart.
I wonder if you are the one to join me on this elusive passion-filled journey.




Does it inspire you, make you ask questions,

or leave you with that cookie cutter ending all’s right in the world?

Last night in our local writing group we discussed a haiku for twenty minutes.A traditional Japanese haiku is a three-line poem with seventeen syllables, written in a 5/7/5 syllable count. Often focusing on images from nature, haiku emphasizes simplicity, intensity, and directness of expression. Imagine that twenty minutes of animated conversation over seventeen syllables. The group sitting at the table all had different perspectives on the piece. It was a philosophical poem by a younger poet in our group, he was trying different forms to expand his poetic skills. I was very happy to see and hear what he brought to the group after all isn’t that what makes us all great in our ways.

From the time we’re born we absorb information in all manners and that data is processed and stored for future use. As we age, we see it in action and reprocess it forming new skill sets. Writing, observing, reading, talking all are essential tools in a writer’s tool basket that must be continuously honed to improve our craft.

The question last night that arose is should the author end a poem providing the reader the answer or at the very least a strong clue as to the writer’s intent. My own opinion is no, The reader should fill in the necessary information, ask questions, ponder and then formulate their own conclusion. The author is only the instrument to guide the reader in the journey. The beauty of poetry is to take the reader from the darkness and hopefully awaken beauty in the reader’s mind. That ah ah moment when the reader feels connected to the author experiencing the moment or vision. Poetry opens the mind to possibilities outside of the daily norm to me.

My question to you is what do you feel poets should do?

Provide you a window to and let you decide what you’re seeing or provide you a window and the answer.

These are a few of my personal favorites my Buson, Jess, Waters and myself  I hope you enjoy:

The light of a candle
is transferred to another candle—
spring twilight.

Written by  Copyright © 2007 by Yosa Buson

my motto for life

                      – merit, not sympathy, wins-

my song against death.


i stroke piano’s

eighty eight mouths. each one sings

hot colors of joy


pentatonic black

keys raise up high into bliss,

born to sing my name


whippoorwill, hawk, crow

sing madrigals for blind men.

forests blooms through each note.

my eyes: buried deep

beneath earth’s skin. my vision

begins in her womb.

darkness sounds like God

flowering from earth’s molten tomb…

writhed wind. chorded cries.


rain, flower, sea, wind

map my dark horizon. i

inhale earth’s songbook

written by Copyright © 2016 by Tyehimba Jess.


this ladybug

on my hand

written by Bill Waters Published in Brass Bell: A Haiku Journal


Words boldly impressed
Scribbles upon broken soul
An author’s remorse

A frosty petal
stood strong alone at sunrise
a beacon to me.
 It begins today
Struggling flowers bloom thru ice
A joyous moment
3 Haikus Written by Lyn Crain

NaNoWriMo update and migraine

I took a higher dosage of my prescribed medication so I could attempt to get back on track. Thankfully, I accomplished 29,702 words written with 20,298 to go. I have
59.4 % completed according to Writing.com’s calculator.

I saw Lisa made progress today. I’m happy for Carly she finished. We can do this Lisa.

I got an interesting message from my writing class instructor this afternoon that helped validate my insanity. “BTW I’ve just finished reading your chapters. Excellent!” He gave me an exclamation point, the man never does that. Raz always says save the exclamation point for the best possible moment and only use one in a book to make it damn good.

I’m off to bed, tomorrow I go to Philadelphia to get my Botox injections and to discuss with the doctor about changing my medicines so I have relief longer than a week. This is the third month in a row where the nerve block hasn’t lasted longer than a few days. There has got to be something different to try.

“Truth is everybody is going to hurt you: you just gotta find the ones worth suffering for.” ~ Bob Marley


NaNoWriMo update

“The first draft is just you telling yourself the story.” ― Terry Pratchett
Making progress… Death and I by Lyn Crain
21,203 Words
28,797 To Go
42.4 % accomplished
I don’t know how people do it, my fingers ache at night, one wrist is screaming at me. I’m crazy and I’m loving every moment. I see my first draft as an elaborate outline, The editing process will be so much fun because I’m taking it from 3rd person to 1st person. My character is too strong to let someone else tell her story.
“Writing is a struggle against silence.” ― Carlos Fuentes
Mairin chose today to be silent. I was frustrated and ready to jump off a cliff when I decided to reach out and ask for help. Marcus answered the call and guided me away from the cliff. His advice was to get inside her head, make her angry to talk and she will. You’re good at pushing buttons … do it.
I wrote the doctors conversation with him being condescending bordering on bullying. I used a doctor from my previous life as my role model and how he treated me. I remembered the rage I felt and it helped because Mairin responded. She surprised me with the anger that came out on the page.
I’m lucky in some ways that other writers aren’t I have an awesome writing family. We bounce ideas and give each other honest feedback. Marcus, Victor, Sara, Debbie, Raz, Jeffrey and my hubby are awesome. If you’re struggling with your writing, I suggest joining a writing group or get involved in one online. Ask questions, and keep asking questions until you get what you need.

“You don’t know you exist until you see your name chiseled in stone or on the cover of your book.  That’s when you become immortalized.”~Lyn Crain

Motivational Quote and Me

“Spring passes and one remembers one’s innocence.
Summer passes and one remembers one’s exuberance.
Autumn passes and one remembers one’s reverence.
Winter passes and one remembers one’s perseverance.”
― Yoko Ono

A lady I knew in Maine, my rival when it came to Halloween decorations passed away unexpectedly yesterday. We’re the same age, and our children are the same ages. I was reminded how short our lives truly are.

I want to take a moment for the families in Texas whose world was turned upside down in a moment of violence. They are in our prayers. I don’t understand why anyone would do that to another human being.

23231173_10212042590674865_3294302903848968301_n (1)

I’ve written 8650 words, monumental for me in 5 days. I was feeling overwhelmed with my character so I decided to take a mental health break. I made a Thanksgiving centerpiece wreath for our table. It went to together easy enough considering this is my very first attempt at making a wreath. (Yup, I followed a youtube video.) The glitter all over the floor was messy and everywhere with help from Macavity. Overall the project took just over two hours from start to finish and the result was very eye appealing.

The Mistletoe Murder
Philosophers and
Other Lovers
in what once
was a nation
A Gambler’s Anatomy
In this
City of Dreams
Where America Begins

Judge Not
The Whistler
The Man Who Chose
To Exile
Rogue Heroes
In the
March of the Lexicon

Words on the Move
Cruel Beautiful World
It’s no longer
Seriously Sweet
When Music Was Life and Death

Escape Clause
The Wrong Side of Goodbye
in a Sleeping World
The Mortifications
Bless Me
for I Will Sin©

Enjoy your Monday.  I need to go Mairin, Bruce and Death are calling.

A quote and scraps of today


“The woman who follows the crowd will usually go no further than the crowd. The woman who walks alone is likely to find herself in places no one has been before.” —Albert Einstein

I wrote 3295 words this morning. I got up at 6am and sat writing until noon. I didn’t move except to refill my coffee and to use the bathroom. I decided that I better move around some I worked on taking down Halloween and putting up Thanksgiving. It’s disappointing to me how few decorations there are.

Outside the house, all signs of Halloween have disappeared for another year. Hopefully, we will be living somewhere new by the time Halloween rolls around again. I’m looking forward to next the adventure. I put the scarecrows and the turkey by the front door. I hung a turkey on the storm door. The living room is packed up but that’s as far as I went today.

I decided to have raw veggies, some pepperoni and a cup of tea for dinner and work on the edits Raz sent back. I finished that and decided to work on some more writing. I lost all track of time, missed Grey’s Anatomy again. 😦 but I did churn out 3000 more words.

I haven’t re-read what I wrote yet. I’m happy with calling it a night. I’ll edit tomorrow. I just want to be ahead so I can some quality time with my husband.

I even started a crazy poem today that I’m going to use in my story Death and I

I toss another swig back

 feel my lips pucker and eyes bulge.

 I know there’s mascara streaks

 running down my face.

It hardly matters now.

I wish I’d known love

was cruel before

It played me like a fool.

I’m always wiser

when it’s too late.

 So liquor is my new love of choice

I drink your memory away

My friends warn me

drinking is a problem

that it will be the death of me.

Will that even matter?

who knew salvation’s possible

a sip at a time

 til bottle’s empty.©