Knowing When To Press “Pause”

We’ve reached past the halfway point of National Poetry Writing Month, Week 1 of 52 Essays 2017 and my email inbox has days’ worth of writing prompts from the several groups I am a part of. Yet, I have posted nothing since last Tuesday. From February 28th to April 10th I posted something everyday single day. There were also days where I posted multiple times, such as April 4th, where I posted thrice in a 24-hour span.  Yet for the past seven days, I’ve posted nothing. Maybe it is something of a burnout, I don’t know. What I do know is that it is not writer’s block.

There are 28 items sitting in draft mode. Some are partially done poems needing tweaking, some essay ideas to be fleshed out, three are nothing more than a couple of lines of an idea I want to work with at some point. Thus, I know it is not because I do not have anything to say. Maybe it’s because I have so much to say and it’s all bottle-necked. Still, with the exception of my Verbal Diarrhea Diaries, I have humbly learned that every emotion that emits or bon mot that bubbles from my lips is not necessarily something that I want put to print or pixel; this is especially true with essays.

It would be much too easy for me to become one of those writers who quickly spouts off on all the many events that happen- the tragedies, the scandals, the oh so many injustices in the world, with commentary from the hip. I admire the writers who can regularly, and seemingly within a mere few hours of an event, publish intelligently heartfelt, or uproariously satirical content. I even admire the tweeters can who evoke the right contextual chord in 140 characters or less within minutes of an event. I do consider myself a decent story-teller, and am humbled when someone messages me wanting to know if I am going to comment on some event or another. Yes, it pleases me that some want to hear/read what I have to say whether in poem, prose, essay or my Verbal Diarrhea Diaries, but I also feel something of a responsibility to that which will remain behind in these pixels long after I am gone.

The permanency of the Internet certainly makes me think more carefully about what I say, and when and how I want to say it, because I do not want my contributions to be little more than mindless chatter in the white noise of the Internet. It is that responsibility, in the week or so before April tenth, where I have increasingly found myself thinking of better ways to express a thought coherently only after I hit ‘publish’, which has me galled to no end.  That lexical lethargy had become increasingly worrisome and seemed to hit its head last week where the first time ever I trashed something I wrote. I did not return it to draft mode to be reworked – I trashed it. I can all but hear certain writer friends of mine gasp in the horror at this cardinal writing sin – I know, I KNOW, I sincerely apologize to you and to myself for that as well. So in the midst of what should have been another busy week of words, I chose to pause, to step back, to wait.

And in that pause instead of writing, I went back to reading. I have found one writer’s adage to be true – the best way to learn to write is to read. I like to read, or reread, the words of others who have inspired me to write. Read those writers whose voices, have helped me to discover my own. After all, we learn to read before we learn to write, so it makes sense in a way. I read some for pleasure and some for research of the ideas pieces in draft mentioned above. Twice I found myself donating a couple of hours to Wiki Walking. And I say donate as opposed to lost as most of the information accidentally gained was worth the time spent.

I want to feel comfortable in what I write, that I have something to say that makes sense. Sometimes I need to write because I feel confident that what I say that will inform or entertain others and sometimes I need to read so that I can be better informed and entertained myself. What I will always need regardless, are times like week -when no matter what is going on and as I pick up my pen again this week –  is to know which to choose and when.

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Writing Our Lives #52essays2017 challenge – Week 16

52essays2017

A year-long weekly personal essay/memoir/creative nonfiction writing challenge. To learn more about this challenge or to participate, check out Vanessa Martir’s website and learn about it.

LP & Me

I was asked if Metallica and Linkin Park had new releases and were touring around the same year, which caused them to have concerts on the same day which band would I chose.

The reality is I am surrounded by so many venues and both bands always play multiple days in a given arena, that this conflict would never really be an issue. The question would be which one would I want to see first? And that is a damned good question.

Ask anyone who knows me about my favorite band and all will unequivocally tell you Metallica. It’s hard to even write their name without wanting to scream it out loud, immediately follow by an expletive, at least one. My love for Metallica has been unflinching since the first chords of “Master of Puppets” entered my pysche. No, I was not there from the very beginning of their career, but I have been a loyal acolyte to the altar of James, Lars,  Kirk and Robert (with nods to Jason, Dave, Ron and a RIP to Cliff, of course). However, those who know me really well know I also have a thisclose second musical love and that is Linkin Park.

Linkin Park Logo

My adoration for Joe, Dave, Brad, Mike, Rob and Chester runs deep. They remain the only other band, besides Metallica, whose music I will preorder notes unheard simply on the faith of who they are.

When this began…

It was 3am and I was in the midst of a three day insomnia run. I had given up the ghost of pretending I was going to sleep and turned on the TV. I was flipping through channels when I came across MTV’s Insomniac Theater, or something like that. One would think with a title as such it would be something sedate right? But this is MTV, it was playing rock, hard rock, thrash rock, loud rock and I hit the channel just as one video was fading out and what faded in was the sound of water draining. Huh? My head popped up, and some of you LP fans reading this may have already known from that small descriptor the song was Crawling.

I can’t seem to find myself again
My walls are closing in
(Without a sense of confidence)
(I’m convinced that there’s)
(Just too much pressure to take)
I’ve felt this way before so insecure

These lyrics described exactly how I was feeling about myself in the world at that time. It was a whole new thing for me, a place where I can find, or is that lose?, myself in.

The song hit hard and unapologetic. Chester Bennington, lead vocalist for Linkin Park, was unforgiving as he growled his way into my id, fucking trashed it like a drugged out rocker’s hotel room and by God I wanted more! When the video ended I immediately turned off the television hyperventilating, not knowing what the fuck hit me, but I remember I finally fell asleep and felt so much better upon waking. I could barely contain myself after work long enough to get to the record store, buy the CD, get home and blast it.  The CD? Hybrid Theory. And thus a new love was borne.

Hybrid Theory stayed in my portable CD player for at least, at least, two solid months. I mean I am pretty sure I listened to nothing else, but Lincoln Park for a solid two months. Even now when I hear certain songs from that album, my mind automatically starts playing the opening notes of the next track in album order.  Play One Step Closer and my mind segues into With You; A Cure For The Itch will fade into Pushing Me Away. If you have the extended version which I did, you also got to hear My December and that remains in my mental rotation as well.

But wait…

As happily stunned as I was by Hybrid Theory, the group’s next release Meteora simply floored me. You know how for many bands the sophomore release can be meh? Well, Linkin Park clearly did not get that memo.  Musically, it follows a similar vein as Hybrid Theory, but lyrically it hits the emotions harder.

Depression –

Can’t you see that you’re smothering me?
Holding too tightly, afraid to lose control
‘Cause everything that you thought I would be
Has fallen apart right in front of you

Anger – 

Time won’t heal this damage anymore
Don’t turn your back on me I won’t be ignored!

Recovery – 

I want to heal,
I want to feel,
What I thought was never real
I want to let go of the pain I felt so long
(Erase all the pain ’til it’s gone)

I’ve quoted lyrics from Numb,  Faint, and Somewhere I Belong respectively here, but really the entire album simply works for me. There is a reason it remains their highest grossing studio release.  Chester’s voice combined with Mike Shinoda’s rap, and Joe Hahn’s sampling/mixing was a heady combination. If The Devil Went Down To Georgia were rock/rap based, Meteora would have been the din that did Mephistopheles in. And they didn’t stop there…

Their next album, Minutes to Midnight was released ten years ago – yet…

Meanwhile, the leader just talks away
Stuttering and mumbling for nightly news to replay
And the rest of the world watching at the end of the day
Both scared and angry like “What did he say?”

Now, replace “nightly news” with “Twitter tweets”. Sounds familiar? It’s their third album in and they are still speaking what’s inside my head, then and now.

A Thousand Suns

God save us everyone,
Will we burn inside the fires of a thousand suns?
For the sins of our hands,
The sins of our tongues,
The sins of our fathers,
The sins of our young.
No!

Living Things

No, you can tell ’em all now
I don’t back up, I don’t back down
I don’t fold up, and I don’t bow
I don’t roll over, don’t know how

The Hunting Party

You’re guilty all the same
Too sick to be ashamed
You want to point your finger
But there’s no one else to blame

The Hunting Party marks something of a departure for LP in that it is their first album to bring in guest appearances with other artists to collaborate.

Now include their one off singles like New Divide (from Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen – Movie Soundtrack) and the hits keep coming. Another standout for me was Chester’s cover of Adele’s Rolling in the Deep that he performed live during a concert. In the clear opposite of the style that is the earmark of his general singing with Linkin Park, here it is stripped down and one of the times you get to hear him just sing. It is an almost acapella cover that showcases the strength and beauty of the man’s voice. There is a reason he did a short tour on lead vocals with Stone Temple Pilots – the man can sing.

Now, I am eagerly awaiting their seventh studio release – One More Light set to be released May 19th. In the interim I am enjoying the first single released, Heavy, featuring Kiiara. Heavy marks another first for Linkin Park with this song being the first studio release for them with a female vocalist. It’s a little pop-ish to me, but I like it. And there is the recently released Battle Symphony, lyrically more along the Linkin Park I know and love.

For all the brouhaha of the negatives some speak of rock and rap music, one would think that a band who has successfully, and consistently, done both well would be a monster. And yes they are, believe you me, but they are my kind of monster. These savage beasts sooth this beauty. I continue to listen to them, especially when seeking a way to ease my anger, or when I feel the stress about to overwhelm. All I have to do is put in my earbuds, or if home turn up the volume, and let myself drown in their music. To quote One Republic here – everything that drowns me, makes me want to fly. When I need to immerse myself in their music, they are my CPR and I am always resurrected in a better mood.

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Slice of Life logo

Slice of Life Writing Challenge – Two Writing Teachers

Writing Our Lives #52essays2017 challenge – Week 15

52essays2017

A year-long weekly personal essay/memoir/creative nonfiction writing challenge. To learn more about this challenge or to participate, check out Vanessa Martir’s website and learn about it.

Movie?

Movie?
See the marquee?
Most of it’s just crappy,
Film wasted on stupidity.
Fifty Teenage Rambo Faster Beauty
We pay for insipidity.
Oh, complimentary!
So, its Part Three?
Let’s see!

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National Poetry Writing Month (NoPoWriMo) 2017

National Poetry Writing Month 2017 – Day 9


Since it’s the 9th day, write a nine-line poem. I wrote a Rubliw.

The Rubliw is a monorhyme form of an epistle that begins with a salutation in iambic monometer, followed by lines that are iambic dimeter, trimeter, tetrameter, pentameter, and descending in that reverse order.

 

A Chance to Heal

It is necessary to watch
Far in front of ourselves
To understand that we are lost
Alex Nevsky – “Jeter in Sort” (“Put A Spell On” – English translation)

It is necessary to watch
Where healing eyes have spoken
Healing braced in the ocean of tears crying
Grateful just to know we still feel
For in sadness is a chance to heal

Far in front of ourselves
Where healing time is forever frozen
Healing in prayers for the dead and the dying
For days like these when we simply cannot deal
And give ourselves a chance to heal

To understand that we are lost
Where healing hearts are ever broken
Healing we must always keep on trying
Giving our all to make the compassion real
Perseverance of faith for a chance to heal
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National Poetry Writing Month (NoPoWriMo) 2017
National Poetry Writing Month 2017 – Day 8
Write a poem using repetition


The Daily Post
The Daily Post
The Daily Post | Daily Prompt – Heal


A to Z Challenge - G
A to Z Challenge – Letter G
G is for Glosa
This poem is written in a modified glosa


Mindlovemiserty's Menagerie logo
Mindlovemiserty’s Menagerie – Friday Music Prompt
“Jeter un Sort/Put A Spell On” by Alex Nevsky

Winners Lose – Losers Win

in
dread
tears flow
bitterly
down already wet cheeks
for names and faces I know not
in the past’s horror and in the fear of tomorrow
I wonder if the end begins
with powers-that-be
watering
away
life
life
for
the men
the women
children and babies
their breaths snuffed in odorless death
less than one hundred days in, it is how things will wage
for those who will not pay the cost
it does not matter
who will win
when all
will
lose
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National Poetry Writing Month (NoPoWriMo) 2017
National Poetry Writing Month 2017Day 7 


A to Z Challenge - F logo
A to Z Challenge F is for Fibonacci Spiral

Today’s form adds up to the Fibonacci Spiral

The Fibonacci Poem, or Fib Poem for short, is a single stanza poem based on the first 7 numbers of the Fibonacci sequence 1,1,2,3,5,8,13. The first and second lines are one syllable, the third line two syllables, the fourth line three syllables and so forth following the Fibonacci sequence. It traditionally ends at seven lines (13 syllables), but some have taken it longer following the sequence.

The Fibonacci Spiral poem is a more structured poem with two stanzas.

The 1st stanza has 13 lines, the 2nd stanza has 12 lines. The last line of your first stanza is repeated to become the first line of your second stanza with no gap between stanzas. Repeat the syllable count to form the spiral for a total 25 lines altogether. If this confuses you just look below.

The syllable counts must be as follows:

stanza 1
1st line – 1 syllable
2nd line – 1 syllable
3rd line – 2 syllables
4th line -3 syllables
5th line -5 syllables
6th line -8 syllables
7th line -13 syllables
8th line -8 syllables
9th line -5 syllables
10th line – 3 syllables
11th line – 2 syllables
12th line – 1 syllable (word must be at least 4 letters)
13th line – 1 syllable (repeat of the word above)
stanza 2 (remember there is no space between the two stanza)
14th line -1 syllables
15th line -2 syllables
16th line -3 syllables
17th line -5 syllables
18th line -8 syllables
19th line -13 syllables
20th line -8 syllables
21st line -5 syllables
22nd line – 3 syllables
23rd line – 2 syllables
24th line – 1 syllable
25th line – 1 syllable

Though not required, the poem should be Centered for the spiral.

All That Glitters

My

Eyes

Glittered

In the dark

That is what you said 

As you walked towards me slowly

It was the perfect kind of night for new beginnings

As I lift my face

That it was among

Things that you

Had loved

Then

Then

So

You knew

That tonight

As you stepped to me

With a kiss and then walked away

That right then with the witness of Luna in the night

You could not begin to admit

That shine in my eyes

Was just the

Start of

My

Tears

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National Poetry Writing Month (NoPoWriMo) 2017
National Poetry Writing Month 2017 – Day 6
Write a poem that looks at the same thing from various points of view


The Daily Post
The Daily Post | Daily Prompt – Denial


dverse
dVerse ~Poets Pub | OpenLinkNight: 193

The Big If

What in the actual fuck am I do with my existence and time on this planet?? Do you know what you’re doing with yours? If you died today would you be happy?

This query was posed by a friend on Facebook.  Because it was Facebook I gave a quick one paragraph response.  Below is that paragraph expanded out.

The biggest problem with worrying about our existence and time on this earth is that we have no clue how long our ride will last. Therefore worrying about it takes some of that very finite time away from actually living it.  We all, well most of us, want to be someone grand, want to be a known quantity. We want to know we have a purpose in life.  My purpose in life is easy…

Don't just survive life, live it.
Don’t just survive life, live it.
 

I believe if I simply live my life to the best of my ability each day, everything else falls into place.

Within the past ten or so years I have rediscovered ME.  The me I am when I’m not being a semi-professional on the job, when I’m not being a mother to now two grown men, when I’m not being a potential someone’s significant other. I have rediscovered the me I am when I take away all the things I have to do and am left with only the things I must to do to make my soul happy. I had no clue as to how just badly I was lost, until I slowly started to find me. I am still learning, challenging and discovering myself, and it has been one heck of an exploration.

I may never be the next Poe or Renoir or Piaf. Especially Piaf,  because this Raivenne who ironically loves karaoke, can’t sing for shit.  Yet on a very small-scale my name is now somewhat known in many countries across this globe. I could never have imagined that ten plus years ago. That is not to say that, with hard work, ten years from now if my name is well on its way to being as recognized as say Angelou or  Chihuly or Adele (again, please see my caveat re: singing above), I will not complain; really I won’t. A few ago I posted in my blog how my life has done a complete 180 degree turn regarding the arts in my life- from it dearth in my youth to its depth now. My love of writing, music, painting, poetry, theatre – it is all so ingrained into me now I cannot imagine breathing without it. I have rediscovered not just my love for the art of others, but to also appreciate and love, nurture my own arts as well.

I have accomplished some things I could not conceive of doing 30, 20, 10 years ago. Imagined?-yes. Hoped and prayed?-yes. Actually thought I would get to do?-no. But I have done and it has been a marvel. I have so many wonderful people in my life, and I include some of those whom I have yet to meet face-to-face. Had you asked me years if I ever truly thought I would know get to know just people globally, outside of my best friend, that if I should ever step foot in their country and did not make a sincere effort to meet with them that I would be royally cussed out, I would have laughed heartily in your face. Heartily. Yet, I am slowly marking not just countries, but continents of my lists; this is where I am now.

I look in the mirror each morning and I’m glad to say the majority of the time I smile at what I see. (Queue Mary J. Blige’s Fine here.) Not just physically, but emotionally as well. I have my raw days, we all do, however I can honestly say I have never been so full of life, enjoying life, thriving in the art of simply living life as I am right now.

So, if I have to make that final exit today, I can say I would be happy.  Still, for as much as I have already accomplished, have I crossed-off even a third of my ever-expanding Want-To-Do list?-Nope. So forgive me if  I’m hoping for at least a few more decades to work on those, before I leave you guys, okay? Because I’m Happy!
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Writing Our Lives #52essays2017 challenge – Week 14

52essays2017

A year-long weekly personal essay/memoir/creative nonfiction writing challenge. To learn more about this challenge or to participate, check out Vanessa Martir’s website and learn about it.

The Horror of the Harlequin

No one batted an eye when I, a female, read the Borne series of espionage novels by Robert Ludlum long before the movies came out. Nor when I was enthralled by the Spenser detective series by Robert B.  Parker after being introduced to the character thanks to the 80’s TV series. Oh, but let me read anything from the Troubleshooters series, military novels by Suzanne Brockman and eyes roll hard because Brockman’s books are considered romance.

While I personally find most of what is published under romance novels as a genre to be poorly penned and predictable as all get out, my wiring simply cannot find pleasure in reading them. But I don’t knock their existence for clearly many people, like my best friend, simply adore them. Please note: I am not solely speaking of romance novels with sex scenes, explicit or otherwise, but the quick read novels made infamous by Harlequin which became so popular in the 80s and remain steadfastly so today. This includes many of which can be found under the somewhat less threatening big sister header of Chick Lit.

Romance novels are often dismissed as guilty pleasures, something a person should be be above reading once out of their teens by women, and to be outright ashamed of being seen as read by men. Granted, the covers of barrel chested men with gloriously voluptuous women do not help, but still it is not just females reading romance novels. Let’s be honest: just as “boys have adventures with action figures” while “girls play with dolls“, men read plenty of books with romance in them — they just aren’t called romance novels.

The espionage and detective series mentioned above have romance scenes, separate or including depictions of sex, to demonstrate the level of importance of the romantic interests to each other. It’s often needed to push the story, no matter how weakly. I mean was there really any need for the Marie character in the Ludlum books, or movies, other than to give the lead character the damsel to save? So guys aren’t exactly foreign to the concept of reading up on some lovely-dovey time in novels and tacitly accept it.  Whodathunkit? Uh, most e-book users and FanFic writers.

With e-books and Fan Fiction or FanFic for short, males -especially CIS males- can delve into the world of romance historical, modern, fact, fiction, and yes the homoerotic, BDSM and so many other subsets within subsets as most females have enjoyed in, sometimes covered, print for decades. One of the many reasons E-books have become so popular  is that people can read whatever they want in relative private, without the grandiose covers mentioned above shouting to world what steamy words lay on the pixelated screen.

We live in a (relatively) free society in which we can like anything we want. So if men are reading romance too, why all the hating? as the kids would say. The problem is we live in a society that claims to embrace equality between men and women and at the same time devalues femininity.

It seems that we’ve been taught to have a disdain for all girly things. It’s is just part and parcel of living in a patriarchal society.  While traditional femininity can be just as toxic as traditional masculinity, in the push for equality, somehow being actually feminine has been pushed away into being considered less than. That feminine pursuits are frivolous, while masculine pursuits are valid, including what we read. When we try to devalue femininity as a means of oppression that is a problem.

There’s no more wrong with a guy reading a historical romance for fun than a gal reading a political thriller for the same reason – if it brings the reader pleasure – to each/his or her own.

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Writing Our Lives #52essays2017 challenge – Week 13

52essays2017

A year-long weekly personal essay/memoir/creative nonfiction writing challenge. To learn more about this challenge or to participate, check out Vanessa Martir’s website and learn about it.

 

It’s Lamb Time!

Spring equinox 2017 in the Northern Hemisphere will be at 6:28 AM on Monday, March 20 EST

I cannot lie, with the exception of the previous week, Winter 2016 has been relatively mild temperature wise. Granted there will be a couple more fights twixt lion and lamb for the next few weeks before we really feel like spring in our bones, but boy I am very happy to officially be on this side of the equinox at last.

Central Park Promenade in early spring

Central Park Promenade 1st Day of Spring 2016

Like most seasons some signs of spring appear before the calendar states such. The days are noticeably longer, grass has started to show its first shoots – though last week’s snow storm may have done a number on them, any day now I expect the landscapers by my job to start planting their annual tulip bulbs, there’s even the tiniest hint of what will be buds on the cherry blossom trees. Starbucks have the new coffee cup sleeves for spring and the annual joking, but not funny memes requesting people to please, for the love of all that’s holy, please get pedicures before breaking out the strappy sandals. Ahh spring!

To all of my southern hemisphere people, now entering autumnal equinox: may your coming winter be even more gentle than our past one. And please take time for Hygge.

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#SOL2017

#SOL2017

Let’s see how others are getting through their First Day of Equinox:

10th Annual Slice of Life Story Challenge! – DAY 20

Is It Only Pretty In Pink?

WARNING: ADULT CONTENT AHEAD

A friend posted the following on her Facebook…

I was at work at the time and could not view it. I forgot about it and did not see the video until a day or so later.

At first, I just rolled my eyes, but then I just saw red.

A different friend had the same initial reaction I had in thinking how men around the world are a huge reason for a lot of the fucked up shit we females go through when it comes to feminine beauty, even down to our vaginas. Over the years, I have come across articles and advertisements with commentary on what should be the labia color, labia size, whether to be or not to be hirsute, a vaginal canal’s width and depth, the proper moisture discharge and content, and of course, the natural scent of a woman. I suppose that, with so many cultures using complexion lighteners to attain the presumed ideal (read pink) beauty, I honestly cannot say that I am truly surprised by this. However, I am appalled and frankly disgusted at the depth of how deep this desire, this need to achieve this presumed ideal for even our most intimate of places can go.

Stop the madness.

This brought up some far-from-scientific but highly interesting conversation twixt various friends of all genders over the next few days. In one such conversation, I groused on how most CIS men seem to behave as though any vagina that does not look like a Georgia O’Keeffe painting is unworthy. Of course, one of my idiot male friends then sarcastically asked which artist I felt best represented mine. Me, being me, immediately replied, “Rorschach.” When asked to elaborate, I said, “Each person sees something different in my lips.”

And calling spades what they are, the women who are doing this are likely doing so to obtain some ideal for beings who should have no say -in this very specific- so of our bodies whatsoever. Not that they should have it in any other body parts, but really absolutely none right there  – and yes, I mean men. Because as misandry filled as this is to say – no woman is likely going through labia bleaching, labiaplasty, vajazzling, and/or any other nonsense some women do to alter themselves from what nature intended for another woman. It’s bad enough we have legal legislation, by mostly men, trying to rule on what comes out of our bodies.

Now we have to put up with social legislation on how it should look before going in?!

Stop the madness.

I mean, seriously, we women go through enough shit on the daily with regards to our bodies on the parts that everyone can see. Are you effing kidding me that it has come literally down to that level? That some women have been made to feel so insecure about the appearance of their labia that they would subject themselves to that?

Stop the madness!

Because it seems to me if you’ve been invited to see this woman that up close and personal that you can make comparisons, you should be praising your local deity for the honors and shut the fuck up! Preferably by putting your lips on mine since you’re down there, I’m just saying…

And speaking of IJS – Stop the madness.