Haiku Evolution

Perfection dismissed

Seeking new aspirations

Funerals in myth©️

My two haikus today evolved…

Invited to die

Depths by determined inches

Only stagnation ©️

…………….

Invited to die

Death by determined inches

Funerals in myth ©️

Breath

by Lyn Crain

A breath

A tree crashes shatters the window.

the ground shudders with its weight.

The storm rages… rips every fragile

fragment of nature to shreds.

A  life is born, fighting to live

in a desperate struggle for air.

An old life shudders  a frenzied surrender

death claims his last gasp.

A breath

What once was …

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

I

need
freedom
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.

 

 

 

Getting Myself Prepped for NaNoWriMo

There are so many things to establish in the background to assure continuity in a book that hadn’t crossed my mind until I began this undertaking. It made me appreciate all the authors I’ve read in my lifetime. Wow!

I feel reasonably comfortable with my conflicts and my protagonist. I have several minor antagonists and one major one who will definitely make his handsome presence known. Putting pictures on my character trait list did help. I found looking at them and imagining how they would handle different complications enjoyable. Yesterday, I worked on my antagonist, oh he’s  handsome and dangerous. I looked at a lot of pictures of men before deciding I really like how Patrick Dempsey looked in all black, I could easily see him as my Thanatos.Thanatos1

Now, I’m working on an outline I’ll be comfortable working with over the next month. Who knew there would be so many different types– Snowflake, 3-point,  5-point, 8-points, traditional bullet point, Vogler’s, Campbell’s, pure summary, skeletal outlining, flashlight outlining, free writing, visual mapping, contextual prepping and of course all the different software for outlining. Yikes, it’s confusing.

I’ve been reading Vogler’s Writer’s Journey and Campbell’s The Hero With a Thousand Faces. Some days I feel like I read more than I write because it’s all part of the process of fine tuning my craft. And naturally, everyone has a different take on successful writing techniques.

My setting was pretty easy I’ve created a fictional town in Maine called Bayhollow, the next town over is a college town called Stone Lake with a university called Kampden University. There’s an active military base about 10 miles away in a town called Deadzone. All of these locations are very near the Canadian border.

On WDC they have prep challenge which thus far has kept me to the task which I’m finding helpful because it’s all new to me. Also, there’s the lingering dread 50,000 words hovering too. I find comfort in seeing familiar names pledged to do NaNoWriMo. Misery does love company.

I was reading Theresa’s blog this morning and thinking about how I overcome writing challenges. My go to is my camera when nothing else works. There is something about looking through the portal of small space that makes my muse happy. My perspective is different and very targeted.

The other day while I was creating my setting I had been gathering all the logistics like population, restaurants, and businesses. (world building) I took a break and caught up on reading blogs. Yes, I’m guilty of reading and not always leaving comments. But in this instance, Theresa had drawn a fence on a white background with shading to give the impression of winter or even a sandy beach. I took it as winter in my mind and I saw my protagonist breaking down on a back road and trodding along this seemingly endless fence. The timing was perfect for my muse because it sparked another opportunity for frustration in what seems like mountains on her journey to better her life. Thank you Theresa.

Another way I open my mind to writing is cutting the newspaper into shreds, readable shreds. I grab random titles and move them around I create a poem or a line that fits perfectly in what I’m working on that may have never crossed my mind.

 

The first poem could easily be part of a conversation my protagonist has and the second could be a fearful moment added to the scene in the cemetery.  Muses work in interesting ways as Barber Adagio for Strings by the London Philharmonic Orchestra plays in the background.

I do enjoy having dark classical playing in the background. What can I say my muse is a bit twisted.

My compost bin enjoys all the snippets of paper when I’m done so everything has a purpose if you open yourself to the possibilities.

Spending time with Poe

“Those who dream by day are cognizant of many things which escape those who dream only by night.”

A Dream is one of the countless poems Poe has written, a poem that contains imagery, symbolism, and a profound theme that explains how a dream can cause hope as well as sorrow. My attraction to Poe has always been because of the dark topics he focused his work on. Last year I shared my very favorite Annabel Lee and also the Raven. Anyone that reads poetry is familiar with the Raven, it’s a classic. But if asked are they familiar with some of his other great poems probably not. I hope you enjoy reading some of his less known works as much as I do.

A Dream Within a Dream  by Edgar Allen Poe
Take this kiss upon the brow!
And, in parting from you now,
Thus much let me avow —
You are not wrong, who deem
That my days have been a dream;
Yet if hope has flown away
In a night, or in a day,
In a vision, or in none,
Is it therefore the less gone?
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream.

I stand amid the roar
Of a surf-tormented shore,
And I hold within my hand
Grains of the golden sand —
How few! yet how they creep
Through my fingers to the deep,
While I weep — while I weep!
O God! Can I not grasp
Them with a tighter clasp?
O God! can I not save
One from the pitiless wave?
Is all that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream?

“Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing, doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before.”~Poe

In the first stanza, “In visions of the dark knight, I have dreamed of joy departed- But a waking dream of life and light, Hath left me broken-hearted.” Poe relates his feelings about his desire and the sorrow felt. Poe’s intention was to show how a dream may be the only hope you have, but it is only a lie in reality. Another example is “Ah! what is not a dream by day, To him whose eyes are cast… Hath cheered me as a lovely beam. Poe is talking to himself about his confusions and emotions when having a dream in the middle of a horrible life he is living in. He wrote the poem in his perspective, and we know this by the figurative language he used to show intimacy. The poem discusses motivation, anxiety, and the false hope you get when dreaming, only to wake up knowing it was never true. It is still very relatable today.
He uses literary devices such as metaphor, simile, personification, symbolism, imagery, and others to show a deeper understanding of dreams and the dynamic but deceitful images that they show us. These devices are fundamental to the development and creation and allow Poe to expand his ideas to a greater extent.

To One in Paradise by Edgar Allen Poe

Thou wast that all to me, love,
For which my soul did pine–
A green isle in the sea, love,
A fountain and a shrine,
All wreathed with fairy fruits and flowers,
And all the flowers were mine.
Ah, dream too bright to last!
Ah, starry Hope! that didst arise
But to be overcast!
A voice from out the Future cries,
“On! on!”–but o’er the Past
(Dim gulf!) my spirit hovering lies
Mute, motionless, aghast!

For, alas! alas! with me
The light of Life is o’er!
“No more–no more–no more”–
(Such language holds the solemn sea
To the sands upon the shore)
Shall bloom the thunder-blasted tree,
Or the stricken eagle soar!

And all my days are trances,
And all my nightly dreams
Are where thy dark eye glances,
And where thy footstep gleams–
In what ethereal dances,
By what eternal streams!

Alas! for that accursed time
They bore thee o’er the billow,
From love to titled age and crime,
And an unholy pillow!
From me, and from our misty clime,
Where weeps the silver willow!

“We loved with a love that was more than love.”~Poe

Poe’s sad poem, To One in Paradise, deals with the loss of a significant other something most of us are familiar with or will be.  The narrator says that love between he and the lady was all he ever wanted. He compares the object of his affection to various tangible elements in life. He feels that the love he and the woman shared was too good to last; now his one, true love affair is over, fallen victim to the grave. He is so distraught that he assures the reader that even nature will echo his pain. He was a dead man walking, miserable and alone. In this, we see how the universal love and death theme applies.

 

 

Quote About the Purpose of Poetry

Arc by Mike Green is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License.W.S.Merwin says it the best,  “I think there’s a kind of desperate hope built into poetry now that one really wants, hopelessly, to save the world. One is trying to say everything that can be said for the things that one loves while there’s still time. I think that’s a social role, don’t you? …We keep expressing our anger and our love, and we hope, hopelessly perhaps, that it will have some effect.”

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

Inside a Poet’s Mind

 

back-porch-2What is beautiful is easily lost

among my rambled thoughts

as I sit on the porch,

sipping my hot coffee

 waiting and watching.

  I study all the made up faces

from a bad dream glooming salon

 all futile reminders of the chasms

on the pages, I know exist but lie

on an altar dignifying the God of chance

as if it were some kind of wonder

in this poet’s mind.

I attempted a cento which is using lines from different poets work to create a poem of my own. Cento is a latin word that means patchwork. Homer and Virgil were famous for this style of poetry.

I studied all the made up faces ~ Toast by Leonard Nathan

What is beautiful is easily lost ~  The Altar  by Charles Simic

An altar dignifying the God of chance~  The Altar  by Charles Simic

from a bad dream glooming salon ~  The Altar  by Charles Simic

as if it were some kind of wonder ~  A Spiral Notebook by Ted Koser