If Poets Did Doodle

I enjoy twisting

feeling into dark whimsy,

sweets taste truer

balanced with the right savory.

This poem is linked to Imaginary Garden with Real Toads' Tuesday Platform.

Liner Notes for this Groove:

I’ve fully participated in NaPoWriMo only twice. While challenges like that make me a better writer, April just tends to be a busy month for me. I was planning to sit out on this April’s madness too, but then I thought of something fun I haven’t tried yet – blackout poetry. But I’d been hesitant to try it out because a.) while I used to draw a lot when I was younger, I’m really rusty at it and b.) I wasn’t sure what to black out.

Then I noticed two galley proofs of my book laying around the house doing nothing but collecting dust. Heck yes I can work with those! I’m still pretty new at the black-out thing, so I’m giving myself a break and only doing them every other day. The end results will get posted on my Instagram account, though some will show up here too:

This one came from the introduction

of The Trouble with Wanting and OtherNot-Quite Faerie Tales

OK, it’s too soon to say if that one will be a favorite. I’ll just have to make more to find out. If I’m happy at the end of this month’s experiment, I’ll probably do more of these. Emily Autumn once wrote “If leeches ate peaches instead of my blood, then I would be free to drink tea in the mud.” I’d like to feel free to mix visual art and poetry more, and stuffing a giant peach of practice down the leech of self-doubt’s throat during NaPoWriMo might help me out with that. 

So tell me dear Groovers, are any of you giving NaPoWriMo a whirl? Or have you ever jumped into any challenges (either online or in meatspace) as a fun way to improve a skill? Tell me all about it in the comments section, or just talk to me about how your week is going. If you’d like to continue the conversation on your cyberhome, drop the link in with the rest of your comments. I’d love to visit.

By Rommy Cortez-Driks

Song Choices: Peek-A-Boo by Souxie and the Banshees

Caffeine is Caffeine is Caffeine: Blogging Around with Rommy Week 11

Small sprouts have a lot

to teach stiffened trees

about bending in the rain

and loving the way

water collects on new leaves

to refract the sunlight after a storm.

This poem is linked to Imaginary Gardens with Real Toad's Tuesday Platform and Poets United 445.

The Liner Notes for this Groove:

It all started with a burst of caffeine. I know I asked my mother-law-for decaf. She swears she got me decaf. But about 16 years ago I knew a few things after I finished that coffee. A.) That was probably not decaf and B.) the expected jitters from said cup of coffee felt a lot more intense around my abdominal region, so even though it was a couple of weeks early I was fairly sure labor had started.

By dawn the next morning I was looking at my new-born kiddo, Rose. I suppose given her entrance into this world it shouldn’t surprise me that she’s become something of a caffeine enthusiast. So is she a coffee drinker like her dad or a tea drinker like her mom? I think Rose would most likely relate to the quote by Abraham Lincoln, “If this is coffee, please bring me tea; but if this is tea please bring me some coffee.” She cheerfully partakes of either as the whim takes her (she had one of each on the last day of being fifteen) because she sees no reason to place limits on enjoying things that make her happy.

As she’s making the transition from kid to very interesting young lady, she is vocal about expressing who she is, from her vivid and unabashedly geek chic clothes to her retro taste in music (on vinyl, if you please). And her joy is infectious. I wish I had felt confident enough to release my inner geek to run free in a frenzy of pixie-stix fueled glory. But seeing her happily embracing her quirkiness is the next best thing. Being her mom has taught me a lot about the magic that can happen when you are fully and authentically yourself, both as a writer and as a person.

I got a small print of this painting, AmanitaTea, 

when I ordered a larger one from Art by Lady Viktoria, 

and something about it just struck me as so Rose-like, I had to use it here.

So dear Groovers, what’s your preferred method of caffeine delivery? Or do you want to talk about a time when being authentically yourself made things interesting? Make your thoughts known about these questions or just catch me up on your week in the comments section. As always, you can drop a link to your cyber home if you want to elaborate on any comments you’ve left here.

Song Choice: The theme song from one of our favorite shows to watch together, One Day at a Time

From the Other Side of Armageddon: Blogging Around with Rommy Week 10

I’m so accustomed

to keeping my sword sheathed,

that its sharpness unsettles

even me.

This poem is linked to the Imaginary Gardens with Real Toads' Tuesday Platform and Poets United Poetry Pantry 444.

Liner Notes for this Groove:

It’s been a rough week, Groovers. To be perfectly honest, I’m still reeling a bit from fallout after a heated political conversation with someone who (not to put too fine a point on it) frankly should have known better.

I’m aware that a lot of my surface persona (both on-line and in the physical world) is bubbly, sometimes thoughtful, but not obsessed with appearing too serious. One of my college nicknames was “Lil’ Bouncy One”. But people who have known me for a long time are fairly aware I have a bit of a stereotypical temper. I’m not nice when finally angered. If you’re lucky, I’ll just wash my hands of you and never let the thought of your existence bother my calm again. If not, I’ll scorch and salt the earth behind me while toasting marshmallows over the wreckage.

This last time though, has me thinking of the TV trope Woobie, Destroyer of Worlds. It’s not that I didn’t mean what I said; I meant every word. And the anger I’ve had over the topic of the discussion has been building for a while. It’s that in the past I prided myself on keeping cool at times like that. I wanted to be someone who builds bridges, not burns them. But (like most people in the US) I’m more than a little tired and angry that I have to keep explaining that people outside your group (however you define it) are still human too.

As I unpack the feelings from the fallout, I’m finding that it’s providing fertile ground for a bunch of poems for my upcoming poetry collection, as well as for my prose writing. I suppose that doesn’t make me much different from other poets or authors. A lot of us work out some of those complicated feelings through our words, right? But I’m not sure I’d do things, well as intensely, if I had to do it again. I may not have started it, but I escalated a verbal Armageddon when I could have chosen differently. Neil Gaiman once famously wrote, “Honestly, if you're given the choice between Armageddon or tea, you don't say 'what kind of tea?” It might have been better for both sides to have had the cuppa of their choice and thoughtfully engage afterwards.

So let’s talk Groovers. Have you ever had an instance when the words that came out of your mouth might've done hurtful things you didn't intend? Tell me about it in the comments or just talk to me about what’s new in your world. My cyber home is open for conversation. As always, if you’d like to continue the conversation in your own cyber home, bring that up in your comments and hit me with a link.

By Rommy Cortez-Driks

Song Choice: Burning Bridges by 2/3 Goat