Why write: Brainstorming Session 1

Here I rest ready to relax and pour out my mind onto this entry. As I begin I notice there are so many different avenues to explore – I can write about what a day I had, and all the adventures of planning a comic-con, or I could ponder about word choice, how I deliberated over using four different words instead of entry in the first sentence, words such as blog post, or medium, or… I think you get the point. I wonder why I write as I am just getting back into it, or inspired as I can imagine. Why? It’s just I feel this is a good medium to convey my thoughts, but I wonder at the prudence of simply outpouring thought upon thought. Shouldn’t I try to create a story of some sort? It will be my task to explore all of these things passionately and perhaps one day I will be as well spoken and delightful as the psychologist I saw present today.

The presenter wore a beautiful dress, rife with beautiful light sabers, those deadly weapons, neatly… well, the dress was lovely (a smattering of applause). I wonder if she will come back and I know I’ll listen to her podcasts. She treasures exploring the psychology of Batman and it was charming to watch her display her expertise. I do wonder at how fierce she would be in a comic – she just exudes confidence. tHAT WAS BUT A PART OF MY DAY, AND SHE WAS LOVELY.

I realize that i ACCIDDENTLY CAPITALIZED ALL OF THAT AND i THINK IT IS HILARIOUS. At the end of the day, I wonder where all of this will lead me. I’m typing with my eyes closed and it’s very informal and off the cuff, but I see that my train of thoughts deviates here and there, unlike the hogwarts train which is straight from the platform to hogwarts.

There was so much as I just whimpered, realizing there is so much to discuss. It’s like rain, each droplet beauty and some that you don’t want, but the whole storm is a wonderful experience. I thought about a new employee where I work and how I explain thing after thing, realizing there is no end, but I do it in joy. There are thoughts of new adventures, such as a trip to the fabled ghost town: Calico. It’s a dark, deserted western town rife with ghosts that probably spook most people, but I don’t find them scary. They’re just lost, lonely spirits.

Rereading that, I cherish the last bit about lonely ghosts and know that my imagination, or impressions, or feelings are all things that I admire. I might have to boil it all down and really cherish a few moments each night because a lot happens. It will be my gratitude practice. I know its a worthwhile endeavor.




Intro to Poetry: Imperfect


The 5th prompt for this Introduction to Poetry class is Imperfect. Following the recommendation of playing in the form of a limerick, I wrote about some things I have experienced in the last few weeks that come across as imperfect, if only for a moment or in the eyes of others, that did bring me a good smile. I’m sure we’ve heard it and it goes: there is a sweet perfection in the imperfection. Note: It may have the trace bawdy and indecent elements. The limerick is only 5 lines, so it felt short to the imagination, but quick and nice in its delivery.

There is spilled coffee on the linoleum floor
And many this woman’s middle-finger galore
The tantalizing age of seventeen
With a slight delight in the obscene
Maybe all imperfect, maybe all to hold still for

Writing this reminded me of nymphs, or sirens, or maybe the darker stories of the mermaids, where these kittens are lures drawing people in. There’s this tranquility in acknowledging I enjoyed these kinds of things, with the story behind it being that I imagine these moments as things that would be frowned upon. It’s not really how I look at it anymore, and I enjoy that those thoughts bring to mind these mythological critters. Perhaps the next time I take part in something along these lines, like my fondness of spilt coffee or the middle finger, I’ll call it naughty or nymphlike. I’m not sure if I will.

Introduction to Poetry: Journey


The fourth assignment of this Introduction to Poetry course is to write about the word journey. Fortunately, this is something I have been wanting to do due to a funny text from a friend about hobbits, a wizard, and a dastardly ring. Here goes:

On a journey, sent by an Alchemist
to forge, find, encounter, be with..
a curved, slender katana
royal and coveted by man through the ages, and forevermore
she cuts gently, quickly – showing honest beauty
together, my clan and I endeavor
piecing together the mysteries, exploring it all
cultivating love
fighting the good fight
knowing new lands and
knowing contentment in the temple within

“If I ever go looking for my heart’s desire again, I won’t look any further than my own back yard. Because if it isn’t there, I never really lost it to begin with.”

Introduction to Poetry: Friend


The third assignment in Introduction to Poetry is to write something or another about the word friend, with the additional suggestion of using an Acrostic. An acrostic is a device in which the first or last letters of each line spell a word or follow chronological order. That is the gist of an acrostic.

Amassing moments, memories
Movements, change, all dances adorning stars upon my velvety night
Obscuring darkness
Remembering, reminiscing, reinventing.. all from out exchanges
Each and every day, always and truly, this all comes to be

I wrote about friendship as these tangible moments and memories that amass in great, captivating dances to adorn my life with stars of wisdom, love, creativity, and hope. The wisdom, love, and creativity all bring light to my night sky, showing a love, or AMORE, that I do persevere in carrying. Forging this kind of poem anchors these thoughts in mind, extending strength to my hope. In those trying moments, having a simple, strong faith in this truth is what can bring the uplifting light needed for journey to love and passion. I think I wanted to write all of this because I wasn’t particularly specific, but it’s all in good love to fight the good fight. There is a choice I’m making to look through eyes of Amore, and I’m learning a lot of the secret behind a good emotional life is making the choice to look with those kind of eyes. Further, looking for moments and memories grants a focal point if I am truly caught in a web of difficulty.

Introduction to Poetry: Face


Today was a poem about a face. In this poem I played with alliteration and wrote about her, the many-faced face. She seems to whisper wildly, walking with me. Sometimes I see her, and other times I have to remember her. The whispers are good for me. I’m sure she will be hand-in-hand with me in good time.

Poetry, Day Two: Face

Always hiding, helping, hanging around
in this whole serendipitous star system

This whole world lulls lavishly
A face, maybe fictitious, far-fetched fantasy
Speaking softly, soundly
Hush-hush, she’s here to stay

Tumultuous, tantalizing, tranquil
She sure can be

Seems to be we are in the Paradise City
where the grass is green and the girls are pretty

With eyes to see, and ears to hear
We sweetly smile
With eyes blind, and ears deaf
We sweetly smile

Hush-hush, she’s here to stay
Speaking softly, soundly
Always hiding, helping, hanging around
Sweetly smiling

Note: The lines about green grass is from the Alliteration section of wordpress poetry. It was nice to read alliteration has oft been used in proximity, rather than my notion that alliteration actualizes adjacently (False!).

Bubbly: Musings on people I adore


There are some lovely balls of charm and joy in my life. Truth be told, there are an abundance of good folk in my life right now, but these certain few have something about them that really draws me in, that just excites me, and makes me want to sit next to them, walk with them, and just talk to them. This might turn into rambling, but I want to brainstorm what it is exactly it is. I have inklings.. and there is some desire to add their special spice into my personality. Well, here goes:

Expressiveness comes to mind. I find they are often the first to agree to things that they resonate with, or that they find funny, or that they just enjoy. There is this beautiful liveliness to it that I love, and I feel it shows they have a good grasp of what gets them going and what turns them off. Oftentimes I find myself in a somewhat contemplative state when somebody mentions something, especially if I am in an audience.. but not these folk. They smile and exclaim, or nod their head, joyously meeting your eyes. Perhaps it’s that they are emphatic.. You know, the few that really stand out are all performers or love theater.. That could be it. I have a love for drama geeks.

Another thing that really catches my eye is how freely use touch and gestures. One that comes to mind is so giving of hugs and I recall her embracing my side to ask if I would like to go get coffee. Another greets so joyously, resting a palm on my arm if I am sitting. Of course, there is a difference with people as I know many dislike being touched, but I know it is treasure to me. When they react, they use their bodies, they roll their eyes, they have great swings of their head, and I’ve experienced so much of their vocal range. This seems to remind me of expressiveness. They know their love and get animated about it.. It’s a lot of fun. Plus, these folk often like to show passion through small dances or song.

Another thing that gets me is the charm found in being passionate about something. I remember somebody who spoke of her delight of understanding the flight-or-flight response, and the crowd was dead.. She said, “You know, that really just gets me.. Knowing it works that way.” It was so charming to see her not need the crowd’s approval, that she would generate her own in front of everyone and smile passionately. I adored her right then, and it’s something I have enjoyed in a lot of people. Another friend comes to mind.. She told a funny story and I wasn’t terribly enthusiastic. She began with, “No, you don’t get it. It was so funny, everybody…” There is something about embracing the passion and truth you find in something and sticking to that. It’s something I have began to embrace, and it really lends itself to comfort.. There are things I share that I just know I feel fondly toward.

As far as speaking generally, here are some things I really love in relationships: I love those little jokes and banter that have stories behind them. Those little things you say to each other that sound spiteful, but are really full of endearment. Nicknames, shared stories… I feel these are universal. Small mischievous or loving acts also rock my world, especially after time has passed. I think so fondly of my friend who used to draw in my notebook, or my co-workers that pranked me, or of the culture we shared together. Lastly, I love when someone can speak about a topic for a small amount of time passionately, especially if they intersperse insight and feelings. It just shows me they have really thought about something.

Hey, it turns out I wrote a lot but it is something that I have been wanting to wrap my mind around for a bit. For some reason, a lot of the things I enjoy in others are things that I want to emulate and bring to my relationships. Yes, I have my own style and people do seem to like me, but I want to incorporate more of what I have written about here. It just does me pleasure, and I know I have fallen in love with the people that have brought all of this into my life.

Thanks for the read and let me know what you love in friendships.


Intro to Poetry – Water


Poetry, Day One: Water
Let’s get started with the essentials: today, write a poem about water

 We waded into the ocean, how
quickly cold it was at first, we
saw children scurrying to and from the waves, when
further out we swam, she
pushed, pushed, and pushed us towards shore, but fearless
was the swimming,
was the embrace of the rise,
the fall, the release of the sand beneath our feet

The ocean was a deep, deep
blue, and the sky a soothing, soothing
blue, and only a slight, slight wind

Ocean salt and mouth embrace,
the crashing waves stalking any silence,
and all now is love

I took inspiration from a recent trip to the beach, as well as the poem The Kingfishers by Charles Olson. What I took from his poem was the idea of ending a line with what would be the first word of the next line. It gave a feeling of a pause or a proclamation that I enjoyed. Further, I took from his poem putting first the adjective “fearless” and then subsequently describing what was fearless. Also, repeating the first word of lines, as I did with the sound of “blue.” Lastly, I embraced the idea of silence being something that is stalked from his poem, which the waves do at the ocean side. I did enjoy trying out those little things and I hope it made for a nice read. I think this is how I’m going to describe this particular aspect of my beach trip in the future and see how it goes 🙂