Bird House: Update

So, uh, hi.

Yes, it’s been a long while. Truth be told, my heart hasn’t been in it. By “it,” I mean writing, of course.

My ego took a bit of a blow when Bird House, my chapbook submission for the Button Poetry chapbook contest, was declined. A small part of me believed it was good enough to win. Alas, it wasn’t meant to be.

I still haven’t recovered my motivation, but there have been some signs that a writer’s heart still beats inside my chest. Tiny sparks of inspiration and other things of that nature. Hopefully, I can nurture them into an inferno and make something of myself.

As for Bird House, I’m not ready to give up on seeing it published. I’m sure there’s a niche for it out there somewhere. I just have to find it.

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Bird House

Photo by Egor Kamelev on Pexels.com

It’s early days yet, but I feel like I’ve recovered some of my writing mojo. I’ve been laser-focused on a project I’ve had in the works for quite some time now: a chapbook called Bird House. The first I’ve ever completed. Well, nearly completed. I plan to enter it into Button Poetry’s autumn chapbook contest but it’s not quite ready. One or two more poems should do it and then it’ll meet the requirements. I’ve already got an idea in mind I think will fit in nicely, so it shouldn’t take too long before it’s ready for final edits.

I’m very excited about Bird House. I’ve never felt more confident about a writing project. As it stands, I feel the selection of poetry flows nicely from one poem to another. The themes are far-flung but cogent enough to be unifying, so it feels like a story is being told. And, most importantly, the quality of writing is high. I’m not used to saying such things about my writing (curse my poor mental health), but I’m consistently impressed with each reread of Bird House.

Wish me luck! If the chapbook contest doesn’t go in my favor, though, I’ll be seeking alternate publishing methods for it.

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Into the Deep: A Short Story

Photo by Daniel Maforte on Pexels.com

Marcos was excited and honored to be the first among his peers to explore this particular stretch of water. There were others who were better prepared, better qualified for the job, and yet his boss had bequeathed it to him.

“You’ve done well, Mr. Clark,” Mr. Jones said. “The work you’ve done for the company is exemplary.” His boss gave him a quick pat on the shoulder. “I know this assignment may seem daunting, but I trust you. It’s time to go out there and prove yourself. I know you’ll make me proud.”

Drawing some courage from the memory, Marcos, with help from one of the boatmen, slipped into his dry suit. Marcos, although by no means an inexperienced diver, was not used to the stiff and heavy material, and he felt awkward as he moved to the edge of the boat. He was used to lighter material and diving into warmer waters, where he snapped photos of brightly colored coral reefs, exotic fish, and plant life.

This assignment was much different. He was in northern Minnesota, not off the coast of Australia, and the body of water was the cold Lake Superior instead of the warm, tropical waters he was most familiar with.

Marcos took one look at the dark water and suppressed a shudder. There was something foreboding about the lake. A few years back he’d had the pleasure of enjoying a dive at the Great Barrier Reef. The water had been so clear and blue, you could see everything for what seemed like miles. At Lake Superior, the only thing Marcos could see as he sat on the edge of the boat was a black sheet of dark, murky water broken up only by the waves. Even though he didn’t believe the strange stories that had been circling about the lake for a year now, he could certainly understand how some could believe strange creatures lived in its depths.

Continue reading “Into the Deep: A Short Story”

Yellow Brick Road: A Tanka

Photo by Akshay Nanavati on Unsplash

my feet carry me
down moss-covered and broken
paths of yellow brick,
my feet uncomfortable
in shoes of red glass sequins

at this journey’s end,
I hope to meet a Wizard
with the power to
set my feet on the path home;
I’m lost in this grasping fog

Today’s Tanka Thursday prompt was “travel,” and I’ve been on a Wicked/Wizard of Oz kick the last couple of weeks. This was bound to happen sooner or later.

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Gussied Up: A Poem

White Dresses by Cassandra Armstrong

ere the dawn rises
and pins the sun
like a boutonnière
to pale silk
his cloak a lining of silver
draped in folds trailing lightly
over a glittering floor

to greet the dawn,
the trees put on white dresses
matrons stately in their sunday best
and the little ones
though overweighed by their finery
stand proud nonetheless

the trees are held in dawn’s thrall
branches like dark hair tossed by the wind
sequins of ice crystals
throw prisms of color
tiny rainbows that kiss my skin

i watch this meeting,
this dance between sky and earth
ere the dawn rises

This is a poem about how beautiful the world is after a big snowstorm. This is the stuff that makes living in a place where the air hurts my face worth it. Sister-poem to Of Many Voices.

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Of Many Voices: A Poem

Photo by author.

at times it speaks
with the voice of a young child
gentle and quiet and
soft like rose petals
and just as beautiful

sometimes it shouts
its voice loud and furious
and hard like the wall
it tries to knock me into

it can sound sad too
its voice brittle with the breaths of ghosts
and I hear it and think
of times when I felt that way,
when I felt like I
was a ghost

tonight it is not gentle
and there are ghosts outside my window
reaching through the window casing
to touch me with their cold fingers

try as they might,
they cannot reach me
and as I watch this invisible specter
dance through the winter night
I think instead of the morning
and how beautiful the world will look
in its white dress

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Grey: A Haiku

Photo by Ryan Yeaman on Unsplash

when the sky goes grey
it’s nature gearing up to
unleash its fury

I’m working through a 365 Days of Haiku writing challenge on Medium. Today is the 21st day and I’m still going strong! I haven’t missed a day yet.

Check out the rest of my haiku. I’m quite proud of what I’ve written so far.

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Vortices: A Haiku

The wind is being stupid loud today, so I wrote a haiku about it.

there’s a man outside
screaming at the sky, dancing
vortices of wind

Is it normal to feel like you’re cheating on one blogging platform with another? I’ve been doing a lot of writing on Medium. I really like the community, and I’ve made it into their partner program, so now I’m monetized!

Yes, this absolutely is a plug to get you guys to check out my Medium profile. I’m not ashamed of myself at all.

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