landscape x found poetry

Write the execution

that is: make what you see,

and then be gone.

***

Landscape: the current sea of (unmoved) post-its on top of the script for my short film

Found poetry: quotes I keep close, so I can keep going

Tool: Android S Note

Can I keep doing this?

Wow, the back of your head is smooth–sloped by the barber’s razor yesterday. You told the old man you will tell your girl how you feel, how you’ve been feeling this past year, today. The back of your head is rough–when I run my hands from bottom to top. Wow, can I keep doing this? Can my fingers keep swimming through your hair? Can I keep doing this?

Today you said will tell; and the night is about to end. We are still dancing; we are longing.

You long to tell the truth; and I long to keep dancing with you.

weapons

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Undo.”

If you could un-invent something, what would it be? Discuss why, potential repercussions, or a possible alternative.

Weapons:

guns, missiles, nuclear, snipers, bazookas,

even the silent silent ones you never ever see coming–

please be un-invented. Please.

So then we would have much closer to understanding

and experiencing peace.

dear followers,

Thank you for taking the time reading and following my blog. I appreciate the small moments you lend as you read my words whether from visiting the page, WordPress newsfeed, or your email. Reading is a precious practice; and readers are precious people we all become through this work.

For your reading, much thanks.

I am so close, so so close, to my 100th follower, so I thought I’d do something different.

It’s not everyday I reach 100 followers. I have no agent. No marketing strategies in my pocket. No idea who to turn to after I finish this book I am working on.

100 followers. It means one hundred hearts beating, alive, reading, and reflecting.

To my 100th follower: I will write a poem or vignette for you. I will do this by perusing your blog and getting to know you through your written published words. I will leave my work on your comments section of your most recent post. 

(If only I can write one poem for each follower, I would. But, yes, Life always finds its way in and seeps into that space between the door and the floor.)

I’m no Maya Angelou, Lang Leav, or Gabriel Garcia Marquez.

It will not be a breathtaking piece of writing, but know that I will spend my breaths as I put together words for you, lovely reader and follower.

To all: I appreciate each one of you. Thank you for your time, precious readers.

Sincerely,

A.

pinky swear

Today, my Mom and I did a pinky swear,

our fingers embracing each other,

then our knuckles kissed,

our thumbs met,

we twisted our wrists,

our thumbs met again in the air above,

forming a crooked uneven heart.

My mom had the most beautiful smile on her face,

and my heart was laughing along with her.