Changing Seasons

As a big Fall enthusiast, I'm anxiously waiting for my birthday which, this year, is the first day of Fall or the Autumnal Equinox.  I've already started to enjoy posts on Facebook from some Halloween and Fall pages that I follow.  I've also been planning some Halloween things with my daughter already.

This desire for the new season has pushed me to work on editing my poems for my book of poetry project since my overall theme is nature and the seasons.  Also, I had so much fun playing with Haiku recently that I found myself re writing a longer poem as a simple Haiku.  I did this because the original poem was unfinished, I was still inspired by it, but I was stuck.

The poem began as an exercise in using descriptive language and words.  I wanted to convey the beauty of colors as they change from Summer green to Fall's reds/golds/rusts, etc.  My original was a complicated mess and, although I can still remember the exact tree that inspired it, I had lost my direction.  To move forward with the piece, I found myself focusing on the image in my memory.  I studied the shape and colors, which were in full transition, still displaying Summer while Fall was edging it's way in.

After about an hour of painful rewriting attempts, I used the "strikethrough" feature in Word and crossed out everything, leaving it on the page as a reminder of my failure, as well as a resource for words I still liked.  This is when I began reviewing my Haiku notes feeling that a u-turn was called for.

I stared at the formula, 5-7-5, total of 17 and typed "Summer."  I stared at that a while, then hit return twice and typed "Fall." I looked at that for a while then started to insert short phrases before and after these words until they formed something meaningful.

My next step was a bit more difficult, I started paring things down to match up with my Haiku formula, 5-7-5, total of 17.  I was actually starting to like this poem now.  Next I began changing out words to fit and then words that we more descriptive or telling.  Yes, I pulled out the old Thesaurus to find shorter or better words.  Finally, I had what I thought was my finished piece and read it for my daughter.  Her reaction was lukewarm.  "You've done better" she said.

So, I picked this up again today, two weeks later, and below is my final product.  I like it much better than all of it's previous incarnations.

Summer to Fall

September 8, 2017

Summers luscious greens

Answering Fall’s charming chill

Turn warm, red and gold.

The photo isn't an exact depiction of my original inspiration, however, it does give a sense of the color change that I inspired me in the first place.  I think I'm starting to get the hang of Haiku.  

Now that I've started, I have to keep the inspiration coming and work on more editing.  I don't think it's unreasonable to find new inspiration for a piece when you're editing.  Perhaps inspiration is a key ingredient in editing for me that I need to explore some more.  I'll share my results with you.  

Enjoy the new season and watch for more editing posts.  I hope you share your thoughts and/or poems with me in the comments.

First Day of Fall Birthday Writing Prompt

So, the convergence of things today makes it extra special for me.  It's the uncommon occasion when my birthday is on the First Day of Fall.  I woke to a wonderful breakfast with my daughter and we watched a special episode of a favorite show together before I left for work.  Then I decided to write something and found this writing prompt picture online.  Below is my short piece inspired by these two young fishermen.

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“Aww do I have to get up?!” moaned Dave as he hunkered further under his covers.  Only the glow of the digital clock illuminated the room. 

“Yes!” Jason implored as he shook Dave’s shoulder.  “It’s Mom’s birthday and we’re making dinner, remember?!”  Jason stood back as Dave finally peeked out from the covers voluntarily.

“This is the best time to fish. If we wait, they’ll all have swum away.  Now get up!”  Turning on his heel, Jason left the room.

Dave swung his feet over the side of his bed and reached for his pants.  Pulling them on he stood up and fastened them.  Wrestling a shirt over his head, he finished dressing by the backdoor where Jason stood waiting, tapping his foot. 

Down at the river, the sun was barely a glow on the horizon when they threw in their lines.  Now they wait.  And wait they did.  It seemed like forever ‘til one of them got a bite. 

“It’s as if they know how important this is and they’re not going to bite!” Dave exclaimed painfully.  “Why does this always happen?!”

“Just relax.  They’ll bite.”  Jason said calmly as he moved his line a bit.

And who got the first bite as the sun was now fully over the horizon? Dave.  He felt a great yank that jerked him forward.  “Wow, this is a big one!”

Jason dropped his line and reached out to grab Dave’s.  They both tugged and Dave started to reel in the big fish.  They both gasped as the fish jumped fully out of the water.  The sun glistened on its scales as it arched and dove back in, wriggling and pulling.

Excited, Jason grabbed their net and took a step into the cold water.  Dave pulled a few more times and cranked the reel. 

With one fell swoop, Jason caught the fish in the net, “Woohoo!” he hollered!

“We did it! No, you did it!  This’ll feed half the town!”  Jason yelled.

Dave stood there, awestruck.  He’d never caught anything that size before.  All he could do was stand and stare, savoring the moment.  Jason pulled out his camera and took a picture of Dave.  Then he tossed the camera at Dave.

“Hey, get a picture of this.” 

The camera almost fell, but Dave caught it on the way down.  Shaking off his reverie, Dave aimed the lens at Jason and snapped a couple, then put the camera in his pocket.

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I hope you like this little ditty.  I've never fished before and that's kind of why I selected this picture as a prompt.  If you're inspired and write something out, please share it.  

Happy Fall!  Here's another lovely picture for your enjoyment or to use as another prompt.

Stress and Poetry

Certainly I'm not the only one who has read books on stress and tried many methods to reduce and deal with it.  On this lifelong journey, I have learned and also become more frustrated. 

Frustration:

Sometimes frustration comes when I feel I’ve conquered my stress then something changes causing more stress.  It’s also frustrating to know that I, myself, am the cause of much of my own stress.

Perhaps I’m not alone in these frustrations!?

Things I’ve Learned:

Many things have I learned in this process/journey thus far.  I’m trying to keep this part short so I’ll just give you two.  The first is that stress is always present in our lives.  The second is that we are each in control of the stress we encounter. 

Dealing with it:

Well, if stress is always present and we are in control of it, then where is the answer to my question of how to deal with, or reduce, it?  That’s next.

Poetry is one way that I deal with stress. 

Little phrases come to me out of the blue sometimes when I’m working out a problem or feeling stressed.  I try to write down these little tidbits.  Because they were born of my stress, I hang on to them and savor them, whether they’re good or bad. 

By doing this, I can see inside my stress which helps me process the cause of my stress.  Writing these thoughts down helps me peel away the emotional part and work on the intellectual part of a situation. 

Sometimes these little phrases become a story and sometimes a poem.  Regardless, they’re an expression of the emotion of my stress.  Releasing that allows me more energy for solving or dealing with the issue that plagues me. 

Here is an example of a poem written last fall that was born of a stressful time:

Thought-Less

Kimberly L McClune

September 29, 2014

Blank and silent

My empty brain lolls and sags

Lacking gumption to fight for thoughts

Disappearing in a foggy haze of forgotten people,

places and

things

Sullen and alone

Nothing enters and nothing leaves

Only a void where intelligence reigned

Distant memories of visions,

thoughts,

dreams and

ideas

Strapped in

Cornered in a lonely room

Scattered cobweb strewn furniture

Dusty pillows and torn drapes decorate the discarded dwelling

Barren synapses

Spark-less power outage

Brown-out,

black-out,

drained reserves

Beleaguered and neglected, non-existent cognitive activity

()()()

While this is a fairly solemn piece of writing, remember that it was born of my stress and was instrumental in helping me put aside the negative emotions so that I could work on solutions.

As unusual as this topic is for a poetry blog, I find that whatever brings me to writing is important in that process.  Therefore, I believe it may be important for others as well.  I hope you have enjoyed, or at least not turned away from, my blog.  Good day and keep writing, no matter why and no matter what.

When There's Not Much Time to Write

I've been so busy lately with my job search, taking care of my daughter and doing some blog writing for others that I haven't done much poetry writing lately.  I have jotted down a few that I have been working on and wanted to share a seasonal one today.

I can't remember what prompted me to start this one, but I finished it today with renewed interest.  I seem to remember not knowing where I wanted this to go when I first began to write it out.  I like where it ended up. I hope you do as well.

Midnight Walk

By Kimberly L McClune

October 22, 2012

I took a midnight walk

On the spookiest night of the year,

Past unlit houses

Under barren trees where

Darkness lends a new perspective.

The trees,

Whose once lush and full canopy

Would shade the moons light,

Now gape as coloring, drying leaves

Depart, clearing pathways

For descending moonbeams.

The moon is near her fullest

Hovering magically within

A black sky laden with clouds

Masking the stars,

Threatening reflected beams.

Across an open field,

The moon escapes her veil.

She tats a lacey trim

At the tree-lined edge.

Beams cast down between

Barren branches weave

Delicate patterns on illuminated grass.

Once familiar objects

Now only darkened outlines.

A mailbox looks like a man,

A pot of flowers like an animal.

Even the trees

Become eerie specters in

Haunting moonlight.

Walking at midnight

On the spookiest night

Gives one a new perspective.

**

I must admit that it was easy to complete this one today.  I have been sitting at the computer listening to the trees rustle in the wind for a while now.  Autumn is in full swing with crisp air, sunny days, and crunching leaves beneath your feet.  This is the time of year that I feel the most inspired.  You will likely see more posts from me in the next two months, despite my job search activities, as my writing notebook becomes filled with ideas, half written works and jotted notes.

Enjoy the poem and enjoy the Fall.

PUBLISHED AGAIN!!!

Well, two days after the first publication announcement I received my second publication announcement.  Poetry Quarterly has published a dual issue.  They combined their Winter and Summer issues in what they call their "Tricky" or "Sneaky" Issue.  My other two poems, Passionate and Under a Cloud Speckled Sky are both in this double issue.

http://poetryquarterly.com/?page_id=7
This link is where you can go to check out this issue and see my work.  The issue is only available for free for a short time, but can be purchased as well.  Of course I have a copy of both this and the previous Spring Issue.

I have shared these with my Writers Circle and received a nice response from all of them in congratulations for being published for the first time, even in an online journal.

Personally, I consider it a great honor and opportunity to be published alongside award winning poets and the other wonderful talents that I have read in both of these issues.  I strongly recommend any of the issues from this site to anyone who enjoys poetry.

Unfortunately, my job search, studying my online grant proposal writing course, watching my friends son and working a weekend job are keeping me from doing much writing this summer.  I miss putting my thoughts on paper, or in a Word document.  Every once in a while I will take out a sheet of paper where ever I am and jot down some phrases, but nothing complete has been written for a few months.

I consider myself in a time of living.  So much has been happening and there is so much to write about.  When things have percolated long enough and are ready, the writing will come.  That's kind of how poetry is for me.  When the thoughts/words are there, I write them down.  I find that if I try too hard to find the words for a poem in the first writing, then the poem will never come together for me.  I can go back and re work a poem to get it just right, but it has to be congealed at its first writing.

Enough about my writing style for now.  Suffice it to say that I am extremely proud and excited to be published.  If this year ends and I am still unemployed, I will at least end the year having reached a goal outstanding since childhood, to be published.

Good evening and good writing.

Two new poems

These two poems are seasonal.

The first I wrote after continual requests from my daughter to write about the pumpkin patch the kids at her school had planted and tended all summer.  They just finished harvesting all their pumpkins this last week.

The second was written this evening and I am going to submit it for possible publication.

It is a work in progress so be kind with comments.  Constructive comments are always welcome.

Enjoy them both.  They have been fun to put together.

Our Pumpkin Patch

By Kimberly L. McClune

October 11, 2011

Just out the door

Down the stairs

Lies our pumpkin patch.

Seeds planted early

Sprouted in summer

Then became leafy vines.

All summer we watched

Little vines grow and

Leaves spring out,

Covering our garden.

As Summer faded

Vines ceased wandering.

They twisted and curled.

Deep green leaves fanned out

As our little patch expanded.

The fan leaves

Hide our small treasures.

Almost colorless,

Tiny pumpkins peek out

Looking for the sun.

By Summer's end

Vines overtook their bed

Draping down the sides

Onto the sidewalk.

One adventurous vine

Crept to the stairs.

Will it come up to visit?

Fall is coming!

Fall is coming!

Heralds our little patch.

Ripened pumpkins

Hide in tangled vines.

Lifting fan leaves,

One, two, three…

We pluck our treasures.

Although they're small

Our harvest is big enough.

*********

Christmas Wonderland

By Kimberly L. McClune

October 16, 2011

Colors blink across the ceiling

Flashes glow on the floor and walls.

We sit together enjoying the tree,

Humming favorite holiday tunes.

A handful of personal gifts

Placed beneath adorned boughs

Quiet words bid good night

Excited feet hurry to bed.

Heads lay against soft pillows

Waiting for sleep.

Will the jolly old man really come?

What will morning bring?

Sleep arrives and the night glows.

Snow filled clouds release their bounty

Into the cold night air.

A crystal veil shrouds the landscape.

Tiny gems glisten in lamp light

Icy fairy dust spins and drifts

Swirls and dances on chill winds

Alighting gently, quietly, peacefully.

Silent, secret snow gathers

Rooftops, branches, fences, lawns

All decorated with glittering crystals.

Snow ceases as dawn approaches.

A special light entices young eyes

Little noses press to windowpanes

Tiny hands embrace cold sills.

Behold a Christmas wonderland.

The night deposit of crystal joy

Ignites bewildered excitement.

Crystal frosted windows

Frame the delightful winter scene.

The landscape is transformed

No more dreary gray views

An enchanted world awaits.

With a gasp, the tree, the presents!!

Has he been here?

Little feet jump and prance

They fly to find Christmas waiting.

Surely this is a magical day.