Women’s History Month

This month is women’s history month!  Who are some of your favorite female authors?

Mine are in no particular order just as they popped into my head:

Eleanor Roosevelt, Virgina Woolf, Kate Chopin, Maya Angelou, Natalie Goldberg, Anne Lindberg,

Jane Austin, Mary Shelley. Louisa Alcott, Sylvia Plath, Anne Sexton,  Pema Chodron,

Rachel Corson, Wilma Mankiller, Toni Morrison, Charlotte Bronte, George Eliot,

Alice Walker, Emily Bronte, Emily Dickinson, Ursula K Le Guin, Margaret Mitchell, Edith

Wharton, Willa Cather, Judy Blume, Mary Wollstonecraft, Anne Frank, Malala

Yousafzaifzai, Susan Sontag, Margaret Sanger, and Shirley Jackson.

Please take a moment to recognize women authors.

 

 

Inspiration Sunday

Poetry is:

huggingwordslyn

  • Poetry is truth in its Sunday clothes. ― Joseph Roux
  •   Poetry is just the evidence of life. If your life is burning well, poetry is just the ash. ― Leonard Cohen
  • Poetry is language at its most distilled and most powerful. – Rita Dove
  • Poetry is an act of peace. – Pablo Neruda
  • Genuine poetry can communicate before it is understood. – T.S. Eliot
  • To be a poet is a condition, not a profession. – Robert Frost
  • Poetry is nearer to vital truth than history. – Leonardo da Vinci
  • A poet is, before anything else, a person who is passionately in love with language. ― W.H. Auden
  • The courage of the poet is to keep ajar the door that leads into madness. ― Christopher Morley

#MyFirstPostRevisited

Creating a system for my Poetry practice

Writing the Life Poetic by Sage Cohen.

isbn 978-I-58297-557 Publication date 2009

Poetry is a passion of mine, I love reading and writing poetry. I discovered this book and have devoured the suggestions to broaden my horizons, my skills, and my reading enjoyment.

One of the suggestions, Ms. Cohen recommends works for me. Create yourself a place to come to when you work. I found it very helpful and decided to pass on the suggestions with you.  The categories are flexible, it’s up to you but I found these really met my needs. My ability to focus and accomplishing daily goals surprised me with her suggestions.

Great Quotes that motivate me about writing and life

Poems and Authors I Love offer inspiration and reassurance that my words matter.

Poems I am working on, my ideas, my acorns, whether in rough or editor process.

Finished work, it is hard to let people read your intimate thoughts.

Contests and deadlines, so I don’t miss opportunities.

Submission log, someday this will have lots of places.

Published Poems, I dare to dream!

My friends work matter a lot to me. We support each other with reviews and commentary.

  • Cut and paste your old post into a new post or reblog your own bad self. (Either way is fine but NO editing.)
  • Put the hashtag #MyFirstPostRevisited in your title.
  • Notify your tags in the comment section of their blog (don’t just hope they notice a pingback somewhere in their spam).
  • Feel free to cut and paste the badge to use in your post.
  • Include “the rules” in your post.

Editors and the 3 second rule

So many editors out there don’t or won’t invest more than 3 seconds maybe if we’re lucky  5 seconds to read our work. It’s true! Sad, but true. Publishers and editors have so many books crossing their desk or inbox they don’t have the time to invest more than that.

So how do you get them to read our work?

You have to write the best opening line possible? Write it and rewrite it again until everyone that you’ve shared your work says wow. Don’t be afraid to seek lots of opinions before you submit because getting the truth from family and friends is a lot easier to take than that rejection letter or worse the silent treatment.

Here are some great opening lines, you’re probably familiar with already.

“It was a bright cold day in April, and the clocks were striking thirteen.”
George Orwell, 1984

“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.”
Charles Dickens, A Tale of Two Cities

“In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit.”
J.R.R. Tolkien, The Hobbit

“It was a pleasure to burn.”
Ray Bradbury, Fahrenheit 451

So how do we create lines like this I suggest you check out this Hooked by Les Edgerton. He provides a concise informative read to help us create great openers too!

“The road to rejection is paved with bad beginnings. Agents and editors agree: Improper story beginnings are the single biggest barrier to publication. Why? If a novel or short story has a bad beginning, then no one will keep reading. It’s just that simple.”~ Amazon

 

Passions Beyond Writing 2

 

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I made a LeMoyne Star pattern in the center and then added the rose appliques on top to make this centerpiece for my table. I machine quilted the top and appliqued the flowers by machine. The project took about 5 hours from start to finish. To me, there is something inviting about having a centerpiece on a table don’t you agree. However, in our home, it seems to encourage morning and evening interest.

It’s been a pattern all of this week for W.B. Yeats to take his morning snooze there.

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He’s our almost 13-year-old tabby.

In the evenings we have our 2-year-old blush tabby Macavity taking his siesta.

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Itis good to know my artistic endeavors are appreciated.

Friday Fantasy ~ Where the Magic Flows – #poetry

The beauty of writing poetry is we create imagery verbally and visually.

Dorinda Duclos's avatarNight Owl Poetry - Dorinda Duclos

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I can sit here, on a leaf

And watch the raindrops fall

I can watch the eagle fly

Yet daydream, that’s my call

Still, I’d rather follow moonlight

For where I go, it knows

Far away, into my own world

That’s where the magic flows

©Dorinda Duclos All Rights Reserved
Photo via Pixabay CC0

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Photography and Writing

 

 dsc_0195Artists think outside the box either by choice or habit.These thoughts determine our actions. Showing up to our chosen canvas sometimes takes a lot of energy. The negative baggage we bury ourselves under like “I really have no particular talent”  sabotages us. I’m sure there are good solutions out there, but for me, I strongly feel that my job is to mind my thoughts and to use my strengths to improve my creativity.  I make myself lists of all the ways I can be inspired and then another list how I can inspire others. I never limit myself to one creative outlet.

One consistent thing that shows up in my lists is photographs, a captured image frozen in a narrow focus. Over the years, when I’ve found myself stuck writing, I grab my camera and just look at things all around me through that closed view. The details in that small glimpse are incredible because I frequently miss them with my eyes.

The pictures I chose today are great examples of looking at a picture differently. The seagull over the vast ocean is what I saw without my lens. Once, I looked at the seagull through the lens I saw his wings and how effortlessly he parted the wind to turn. His gliding motion when he wanted to use the wind to lessen his workload. I studied him until he flew out of my lens range and I moved onto the next one.dsc_0197dsc_0196

I filled my notebook with everything I saw. I  discovered the seagull’s world not just in a picture, but later in poetry as I considered all the things the bird enjoyed and I needed which in turn inspired this.

My Deserted Island Has
Turquoise water swirling, seagulls hovering,
with shallow waves breaking along the reef,
crystal blue streams, and mossy banks in the shade.
A chilly deep pool sparkling with the sun’s glimmering rays,
surrounded by luscious trees with sweeping branches,
that beckon me to climb over a sandy beach.
Wow,  so many seashells scattered on
the glimmering sand. It’s a shell collectors dream,
a painter’s haven hidden from the masses.
Wildflowers strewed randomly along the hillside, bursts of
purple and pink with a bit of orange amidst green grass.
Oh my,  curious creatures peeking from the
rocks, and cliffs that shape the steep top of a mountain edge
where a large bird’s nest looms in a treetop.
I stared at the sail of yacht passing by,
Yes, I think one more day before I signal, I am here.
Maybe two days… I  am content in the peace
I found here on my lovely deserted island.

Author Connections 6

Loneliness in a world filled with opportunity should be a paradox. Yet, we all experience that feeling at some point in our lives. We don’t want to do the same things, see the same people we want to change. We need change. But when that door is open, and we’ve ventured into another space and realize we have no connections, no kind face to make a connection with we feel isolated. Loneliness rears its ugly head.
I know there are other types of loneliness, but for today I am just addressing it as an author.Here on WordPress, we are blessed with the daily interaction we have. I’ve never forgotten how I initially felt here when I knew no one. I was alone, I felt lonely. My writing wasn’t read nor did I really know what direction to go. I only knew I was surrounded by people who loved what I love… WRITING. Over time by putting myself out there, I interacted with people, and a following began. We’re connecting.

However, in the real world where I exist that is not the case. Vic enjoys poetry but not to the extent I do. I find myself feeling alone because when we gather with other people, the conversations go from sports, politics, weather, movies anything but poetry which saddens me. I am reminded of Issac Asimov’s quote “Writing is a lonely job. Even if a writer socializes regularly, when he gets down to the real business of his life, it is he and his typewriter or word processor. No one else is or can be involved in the matter.”

My poem for today is about a writer’s need to name things. For Lisel Mueller, a German immigrant, fleeing Nazi Germany the English language was relatively new she chose to use very easy to understand the language a lot like her idol Carl Sandberg did to express herself in poetry. I believe she is still alive, I didn’t see any note otherwise https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems-and-poets/poets/detail/lisel-mueller.

Things

By Lisel Mueller
What happened is, we grew lonely
living among the things,
so we gave the clock a face,
the chair a back,
the table four stout legs
which will never suffer fatigue.

We fitted our shoes with tongues
as smooth as our own
and hung tongues inside bells
so we could listen
to their emotional language,

and because we loved graceful profiles
the pitcher received a lip,
the bottle a long, slender neck.

Even what was beyond us
was recast in our image;
we gave the country a heart,
the storm an eye,
the cave a mouth
so we could pass into safety.

Lisel Mueller, “Things” from Alive Together: New and Selected Poems. Copyright © 1996 by Lisel Mueller. Reprinted by permission of Louisiana State University Press.

I find myself wanting to name things that surround me like my desk is my sanctuary whereas my garden once was. Now, my garden is my Zen space where I only rejuvenate. As we live, everything is named or has been appointed. We need the labels for they connect us. And we remember that we are not alone. It is up to us to change our perspective.

Discovered an interesting poet from a good friend, I just had to share.

 

redlipsThat Kiss
by Sharon Esther Lampert

Fortune teller that I AM,
My crystal ball sees ALL.
Clairvoyant, the man’s libido is flamBOYant.
I SEE: ANIMAL MAGNETISM.
Inside of THAT KISS will be bliss.

Taking chances with amorous glances,
He advances… Lips pouting-tongue tied:
THAT KISS: SmOOch; smOOch.
When he romances: his gait prances,
his penis lances, his generosity enhances.
VOODOO, or DOO-YOU want dinner, dear?”
His heart dances….

Magician that HE IS,
He has a loaded deck of cards,
And wants to be my bodyguard.
Enchantment: a bag of mesmerizing tricks,
An ACE up his sleeve, a KING or a JACK
Are inside of his top hat of black.
Sleight of hand, THAT KISS is grand.

WIZARDRY: Pressed into his bosom,
I am caught in his embraces, arms
Flailing, like a net above my head,
His pounding heart is beating red.
THAT KISS tells ALL or just enough
to keep me Interested in ALL of his stuff.

Lips full of feelings, THAT KISS,
Soft as rose petals, free of prickly thorns.
In the  dark recesses of his mouth,
I find my way by the light in his eyes,
His smile is real, there is no disguise.

Even though we just met,
I am caught in the tangled web of
A hot-blooded, Israeli-Englishman:
“A Jack of All of Love’s Trades.”
A rare mixed-breed, a British accent,
Concealing a *Sabra, wherever he went.
Tricks of my own trade, I roll up my sleeve,
And I become a woman-in-need(?)
THAT KISS I can’t forget, and with no regret:
It is almost 4 a.m., and inside of my gypsy’s tent:
Sm(OO)ch, sm(OO)ch,
We are still one silhouette.

ANIMAL MAGNETISM:
Sm(OO)ch, sm(OO)ch,
Some call it v(OO)d(OO),
Most think it witchcraft,
Experts refer to it as “osculation.”
Others call THAT KISS Kabbalah;
A kind of Jewish mysticism:
Many are in need of exorcism.

 

I loved the imagery mentally and visually and the fun word choices that the author chose to bring her poem alive. Her witty sarcasm reminds of when I first began dating and all my jumbled emotions. I hope you enjoy her work too!