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Myth of His Control©Lyn Crain Myth of his control |
Toys for Olyvia © Lyn Crain
Toys for Olyvia
© Lyn Crain
come in all sizes
many surprises
there is always time for play
dolls or ducks pick one
going to be fun
She’s happy, we’ve got all dayjump rope or hopscotch
join in, don’t just watch
a child’s life is way to short
a chef or cowboy
we play to enjoy
tea time and chocolate torteriding on snowflake
its my day to make
every moment is the best
playing with her toys
does what she enjoys
before it is time to rest
The Alouette, created by Jan Turner, consists of two or more stanzas of 6 lines each, with the following set rules:
Meter: 5, 5, 7, 5, 5, 7
Rhyme Scheme: a, a, b, c, c, b
The form name is a French word meaning ‘skylark’ or larks that fly high, the association to the lark’s song being appropriate for the musical quality of this form.
A Quilt Garden © Lyn Crain
A Quilt Garden © Lyn Crain
She’s a dedicated seamstress,
who lovingly stitches by hand
a warm comfy quilt to caress
and aid a journey to dreamland.
She happily stitches for hours
rows of decorative flowers.
Gardens scenes captured forever
in her joy filled quilt endeavor.
A Rispetto, an Italian form of poetry, is a complete poem of two rhyme quatrains with strict meter. The meter is usually iambic tetrameter with a rhyme scheme of abab ccdd.
Social Suicide © Lyn Crain
At a splintered glance,
the slaughtering branch
suggest a new understanding
for the dreaded masses, commanding
a new meaning for the dying
denying their aggressive lying
The persecuted forget, they are not
above the light they once sought.
The fragile line between life and death
our thoughts listen with bated breath
to the splintered verses
or screaming curses.
Silence takes from a skeleton
whose bones shudder like gelation
praying for tenderness beyond this page
that the lost secrets won’t engage
the destruction of mankind
through the years we refined
our lies, and plead naiveté
although our reactions betray
Ineptitude
our abandoned view
until the cowering end
we feel entitled to a godsend.
Undone © Lyn Crain
Undone
Heady aroma fills the air
almost sickening to breathe in
I kneel here, intent on prayer.
Magnolia blossoms twirl and spin
dramatic like a tornado,
almost sickening to breathe in.
They overshadow her death blow,
daring to steal her last moment
dramatic like a tornado!
It is I who need atonement,
I failed to save her from herself,
daring to steal her last moment.
She was crushed like a broken shelf,
my cruel words splintered her heart,
I failed to save her from herself.
It was me, from the very start!
Heady aroma fills the air,
cowardly I didn’t do my part.
I kneel here, intent on prayer.
The Missing One © Lyn Crain
Multiple ink scrawls,
several pencil scratches,
random marker smears
all across the page
etched in time,
but none were
the signature
he needed…
wanted.
Reflection in Prose © Lyn Crain
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This Is My Rendition
© Lyn Crain
Life is filled with exhilaration
and multitudes of delightful temptation. I blush as I remember some of the titillation. Dream on, I’ll never give an explanation. Most days are filled with such acclamation I faced them all with stubborn determination which made my adventure a fascinating combination of immense joy and yeah occasional frustration. Sadly, these days require some financial calculation but thankfully it does not include my cancelation because my time here has reached its final termination. Embrace boldly every detail, that is my declaration I hope it is not necessary for any elaboration Advice tends to get lost in the translation. |
Writers Poetic Journey © Lyn Crain
Poetic Night Writing © Lyn Crain
Poetry into the darkest realm of my mind
Blossoms into a creation late at night
Where it is only me, of the human kind
My beloved felines stalk without the light
Playing with whatever tickles their fancy
Blossoms into a creation late at night
Their playful sounds tend to amplify
My fingers caress the keys slowly
Playing with whatever tickles their fancy.
Images float like a Thanksgiving parade
Inspiring me to places I have never been
My fingers caress the keys slowly
Beautiful, poetic verses fill my page, amen.
Poe, Frost or Shakespeare, I am not, but I try
Inspiring me to places I have never been
The words of the masters simply mystify
Poetry into the darkest realm of my mind
Poe, Frost or Shakespeare, I am not, but I try
Someday, my words will be just as refined.
Play, Passion and Purpose
Think about these three things … Play, Passion and Purpose
In your life, where do you play? What are you passionate about? What is your purpose? Are there any commonalities among these areas? What do your answers tell you about your intrinsic motivation?
I don’t know about you but I think often about my purpose in life. It is an ongoing struggle for me, now that I have more time on my hands and I am not employed out in the real world. Before, I worked to support my family, then to provide healthcare for us. Life changed and suddenly I couldn’t work so now what is my purpose. What can I contribute to society now?
I considered this a lot, every time I thought I had the answer to purpose something would happen. I was right back where I started.
Recently, listening to a lecture the professor asked what do you do to play? My first thought was… I am an adult, I don’t have time to play. I have too much to do. But that bugged me a lot. When did I forget how to play, or when I lose sight of its value. I thought about all the things I used to do for fun. Dang, it’s been a long time since I’ve done any of them. I need to play, that’s it. My inner child feels neglected.
Then I considered passion the next p of the three. Well, I am passionate about my family, and my hobbies. But then I came back to play. Do I do these things I am passionate about because I am having fun or because I have always done this. Busted, it is simply routine to me!
When I learned my hobbies, I was excited and charged through the project. I was having fun. Now, I do them because I know how but do I really feel the same excitement. Sadly, I don’t. My hobbies have become habit not fun. I am not motivated to finish them at all. Then I am back to that third P, purpose and more questions than answers.
As I am writing I don’t have the answers I want. Evaluating one’s life is important and should be done often. Like the old adage, life is too short to miss a thing. I want the most life can offer so I need to answer the three P’s. I will find joy in the tasks I set again.
What about you?
Creativity
Do you believe it is a teachable or learnable skill like other life skills?
Benjamin Franklin is a classic example of working at a goal until he mastered it. The goal, I speak of is his writing. He dissected stories after reading them and rewrote them in his own words. Once he completed his story, he would compare it to the original and adjust his piece accordingly. Then he wrote the same story in poetic rhyme, this inspiring method opened the door to possibilities that he had not considered with the previous entry. Hence expanding his creativity.
How often do we do a task at hand in the same way over and over? Regardless if it is works or not, simply because it is the way we’ve always done it. Maybe we should try different ways each time, expand our knowledge base and open our mind to different possibilities like Franklin did.
Today, I am going to take one of my favorite short stories apart like Franklin did and see what/where my mind goes with the story. I haven’t tried re-writing another’s work before so I am looking forward to seeing the results. Practice, and more practice is the key to a writers journey to success. I am always looking for inspiration and this methodology is appealing.
What methods do you use to expand your creative process?
Every writer has a story, what’s yours?
lyncrain 