A Little Christmas Bling

Winter slumps in like that grumpy gnome you have hiding in your garden. One minute the sky is blue, the next, there sitting in the corner armchair, or maybe it’s a recliner, is this frown faced, white bearded, cross armed gnome. Sort of like Grumpy. The fog sits in this fuzzy white line across the sky like a low hanging ceiling. Never lifting and you know darn well it’s all blue skies and sunshine above. Maybe. Who knows. It’s this bubble you are in. You have no clue. Heck, it could be rockets red glare up there and you wouldn’t know.

The fog, if it does lift, happens around 4pm right when the sun is making its last pass and is about ready to drop down over the mountains. Then, the night sky is alight with the most midnight blue sky. Brilliant and scintillating with the starshine of the winter constellations. Orion tipped on his side as a waxing gibbous mercury silvers a metal barn roof to mirror shine.

Daytime: late afternoon and deer linger on velvet lawns of faded green and tan, like well placed ornaments. It is Advent season after all. They are like the flocked deer of one’s childhood where there were those beautiful horses and deer and woodland creatures that were the softest to touch but couldn’t have their limbs moved. The kind that area always in the ranching stores. I remember the last time I saw them was in this all purpose Radio Shack store when I was about 12 in Colorado. The kind of store that sold farm toys to kids. Tractors and John Deere things, and blue jeans, and knick knacks for a tourist town.

Advent, when every glittering thing takes on a new meaning. Starlit nights, Christmas lights, a red drum in a second-hand store window, paper bags lining a street with little flickering lights. Turn on every Christmas song I know, watch every Christmas related movie in the world, hum about hippopotamuses and lost front teeth. Grinches and Little Toy Trains. Candles shine more brightly in the dark.

 

Christmas is a fairytale. For Christians it aught to be a fairytale. We are on this quest for the ‘gold’ and the right, we are knights fighting for our King, to end up in a paradise of riches and wealth. They say fairytales don’t exist. Clearly no one ever read the Bible. Why, everything is fantastic and amazing and glorious. And it’s all true! Talk about a story that doesn’t have an end, and the end is going to be so much more magnificent than anything us mortal humans could cook up in section 398.2.

The holiday season is fastly here and I’ve yet to write anything I’ve wanted, but the start of this post was a start of a poem that didn’t go anywhere. It was clearly meant for blog posts and all that.  I can’t quite seem to get out what I’m feeling and thinking. Life is just too chaotic at times. I’m just one motion into another. Planning desserts, Christmas party dresses, functioning. It’s just all a little too much to sit and write. That being said, I am in another Hallmark frame of mind. Ironically, a friend just sent me the best Hallmark Christmas movie plot generator. I am having a blast with it. I dare you to come up with something yourself.

Go for it and tell me what you come up with. Even better, or brownie points if you can name a movie that fits one of these!

Kate

 

October 13 – Write 31 Days – Clear Days

clear-daysI find it rather ironic that I would post such a pretty fall day picture when it is currently raining.

Well it’s raining, and it’s pouring, and my old man, he is snoring…… ~Priscilla An

But sometimes that’s what happens.  I fell in love with this poem in a book of children’s nature poems, and luckily I found it online. So here is Hurrahing in Harvest in its entirety

Hurrahing in Harvest

by Gerard Manley Hopkins

Summer ends now; now, barbarous in beauty, the stooks rise
Around; up above, what wind-walks! What lovely behaviour
Of silk-sack clouds! has wilder, wilful-wavier
Meal-drift moulded ever and melted across skies?

I walk, I lift up, I lift up heart, eyes,
Down all that glory in the heavens to glean our Saviour;
And, éyes, héart, what looks, what lips yet gave you a
Rapturous love’s greeting of realer, of rounder replies?

And the azurous hung hills are his world-wielding shoulder
Majestic – as a stallion stalwart, very-violet-sweet! –
These things, these things were here and but the beholder
Wanting; which two when they once meet,
The heart rears wings bold and bolder
And hurls for him, O half hurls earth for him off under his feet.

 

Kate

Future – A Sonnet to Think On

Future

The future is a foggy mist waiting
And like water it slips through our fingers
Opening drawers of thoughts of waking
A landscape of ideas that will linger

Dare I attempt to write the things over
An elegy here and a ballad there
The ballad first, an elegy slower
Maybe I should just write the prose to compare

Poetry is in my future plans I know
And the past mistakes will fade in time
Time always fades the mistakes I know
New horizons are in the coming rhymes

I shall miss the companions I write with
But life will go on for I am a word smith.

 

 

Hello all you wonderful people I connected with in the Commons.  This is my last *sob* assignment. A sonnet on the future.  What a perfect way to end the course.  I attempted to stick with a Shakespearian sonnet in style  abab cdcd efef gg, and along with the iambic pentameter.  I’m not sure I managed that perfectly, but I have not had a lot of luck with sonnets.  (@BenHuberman I knew you were going to throw a sonnet at us!)

I thought it might be nice to include bits of the themes from the past two weeks. Water, fog, drawers, landscape, ballad, elegy….  And I think it actually turned out rather well. I have been wanting to work more with sonnets, especially since reading Edna St. Vincent Millay‘s sonnets this last year. She has some stunning poetry.

I also want to say that one of the best ways to write poetry has been using the McGill Dictionary of Rhyme program. It is this rhyming dictionary with the space to write your poetry. It gives examples, a thesaurus of sorts, and the schematic of certain poetry forms, including sonnets, since there are several variations.  You might want to check it out if you are like me and have issues rhyming. That being said, I still use my rhyming dictionary more often, but this is nice.

So, I will probably write one more post on this whole experiance, but for now last assignment down, and what fun this course was.

Passionate Perspective – A Found Poem

Passionate Perspective Found Poem

I think I was limiting myself to what I could write about by using fashion magazines. 😛 but still, it turned out rather well if I do say so myself. And it was fun snipping and pasting with tweezers… My father said I would be terrible at ransom notes due to fingerprints on all the words…. Well, since I won’t be attempting to ransom something, I should be fine. And I loved finding a landscape picture to paste the words on.

I think of this poem as more of a metaphor. I do have my camera, and the photographs of the country are this story of a landscape. Something to escape and dream about. It’s semi vague, but isn’t all poetry sometimes?

I liked trying to find different sizes and colors. I don’t know if I got the whole theme of enumeratio. Did I use enough “and’s”? I liked starting every other line with one.  I’ve been wanting to do this type of found poetry for a while now. Is blackout poetry the same? I kind of think it is. I’ve wanted to do a piece of found poetry using the town bulletin board at the post office. With all its flyers, it’s a treasure trove of found poetry just waiting to happen.

And if you can’t read the poem, here it is again in print.

in my camera the photographs of country light
   and stunning grace and freedom
is a passionate perspective
   and reaching across the fair northern sky
a new direction, a breath of fresh air
   and spectacular joy and living
fall color and strong white light
   and look to move forward to
Fling open the door
   and see a day of dreams.

Saturday Inspirations – Landscape Edition

Just like last week, here are some inspirational pictures that I want to either use for writing, visit, or just start a piece of fiction about them. Landscapes are more crucial than you realize for writing because they help set the scene sometimes.  For instance, I have one novel that is in the embryonic stage but it takes place in Ashland, Oregon, home of the Oregon Shakespeare Festival (OSF for true fans).  If I had never been to Ashland, it would be mighty hard to write about it.  But I like to also have images to reference the place.  Maybe not my own, but some of the hotel and other sites.

I love mountain and water pictures. Open roads in the mountains…. the John Denver and James Taylor songs that make you feel moments of those roads.  Lots of things make me want to escape into them, but landscapes are one of the biggest things.

So enjoy.

Signing off
Kate