National Poetry Month: April 21 to April 30, 2013

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I’ve been writing, but posting is another thing. The month continues with many challenges with my son, my business, my ability to stay focused and healthily engaged.  So, here it is May and I have yet to post the rest of April’s poems.  But I did write them. I did learn some things. Not convinced it’s my medium of choice, but it felt good, like a cat stretching in the sun to do it.  I know I’ve grown in my ability to look at things differently and express them in small, concise, or unique ways. It has given me good hope for continued growth.  It allowed me to play with words, concepts, emotions, formats, like a child with blocks:  building it up and knocking it back down. I dealt with serious things and not so serious things.  Hopefully you find some smiles, nods, even a tear or two, or a cheer in these poems below. Here’s to a month of learning and looking forward to May — and continued hopeful progress in the positive direction.  As always your comments are deeply appreciated.  If my compositions have touched you in any way — even in the realm of negative — I want to hear from you. Thank you for reading and spending time with my words. 

April 21, 2013:

 Ride Ends And Love Lost Yore

 (aka Adverb suicide)


Really it’s not that hard

Early in the morning you

Attend his funeral

Lying there serene and silent

Lost in a terrible tragedy

Yanked back too soon

Too dead


You can’t sty but you must

Leave now

Lose hope


Endear yourself to indecision

RIP, my love


April 22, 2013:

 Adverb Demon Exorcizing


I really

You really

He really

She really

They really


Screw the really


Be in the Now


April 23, 2013:

Ode to Coffee









Rich goodness

Liquid of Modern Goddess



In my cup,



In my mouth,

Bathing my tongue

In the juice of energy

Fuels my world

My view

My life


April 24, 2013:

 In the darkness

In the depths

Of your mind

I know you’re there

Trying to get out


For release

To be free

Of the pain

The plight

The hand you were dealt

You rage

In the cage

Of your brain


But the words

Come out


Go away

Give up

Let it end


April 25, 2013:

You know

How do you know

That I’m confused

Or that I’m energized

That I’m saddened

Or that I’m giddy

How do you see

That I’m beautiful

Or that I’m haggard

That I’m strong

Or that I’m weak

How do you hear

That I’m profound

Or that I’m foolish

That I’m excited

Or that I’m agitated

How do you taste

That I’m provocative

Or that I’m parched

That I’m refreshed

Or that I’m exhausted

How do you touch

That I’m eager

Or that I’m weary

That I’m soothed

Or that I’m bored

How do you know

Just how to






To know me


April 26, 2013:


Your little frame

Held one hundred

Stones of nervous


The employers take




In a man’s world

Unschooled always


Your tiny feet

Seized thousands

Paths of confused


The victory of saving




Five-and-Dime or

Lunch counter dreams


Your wearied hands

Contained millions of

Stalwart cells


The chicken for dinner




With too much or

Not enough salt


Your eight decades

Arrest too many

Favored or unfavored


The yellow for painting




With too much stuff

Hidden in the basement


Your faded photograph

Recall secreted adventures

In black and white and color


The story for telling




Cryptic past found

Veiled by ignorance


April 27, 2013:


They cut the trees down yesterday

Chopping down my hope

That this village

Will remain committed to

The Good life


The farmer sold his land yesterday

Procuring my acceptance

That this town

Only wants money-grubbing

Developers to Win


The young family moved away yesterday

Shifting the landscape

That this neighborhood

Suffers a for-sale sign death

One home at a time


Time to turn the tide today

Plant new trees, deeper roots

That this community

Can once again grow hope

Wear greed cancer once lived


April 28, 2013:



Rain on my mood

Fill my eyes with water

Fill the gutters with pelting

Dowse the cheers, joy

Dowse the land with mud

Quench father winter’s thirst

Quench shadow heart’s humor

Drown my soul in grief

Drown the hope for spring



Sink into the river


April 29, 2013:


I remember Kitty

Soaking Up the Sun

A wink and a smile

Mai Tai in hand


She’d cuss like a sailor

Yet soothe skinned knees

Of her two toe-headed boys

Then make wild love


She’d stand where others

Dared to tread or park

Preaching Women’s Rights

While ignoring her own


She’d declare your beauty

Despite your objections

While fussing about her

Self-loathsome, but divine frame


I remember Kitty

Infusion of contradictions

Stirring my world

Capturing my heart


April 30, 2013:

Walpurgis Nacht


Down by the garden gate

At the end of Witch’s Hollow

A stooped figure tends

Green, lush herbs to create

Alchemical needs

Of the one on the path

Her hands caress the leaf

The fern, the bud, the stalk

The dried and the dead

To flame the fuel

Of life in the

Beltane Fire

Swept together by

Last year’s besom

The stranger’s silhouette

Falls over her frame

“You block my rainbow,”

She coos with a smile

He grunts and sweeps her

Into his burly, wool-covered arms

Sunshine and Shadow

Mingle and Search

For union in the herb patch

Flora and Faunus


Throughout the Night

Until he leaves again

And leaves her to

Burn Bright

Until the cool

Air comes again

Down by the gate,

She’ll wait again

Another bon fire

Another night

For now,

Burn Bright

And grow


The light

National Poetry Month: April 16 to April 20, 2013

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Once again, I’m keeping up with writing each day, but not necessarily posting them. Here’s nearly a week’s worth. I will post another round after the April 22 black out in support of “Internet Blackout Day” (many website owners, including yours truly, will blackout their websites on April 22 at 6:00AM GMT in protest against CISPA, Cyber Intelligence Sharing and Protection Act).  Enjoy now and after the black out. Please comment, truly, it makes it all worth while. 

April 16, 2013:

Inpatient Buck

I see him running

Chasing his dream

So young, full of flight

He wants it now


He’ll work hard

Not a problem

But the reward

Comes so slow


It strolls into

His fast life

When he wants

To race to the


Finish line doesn’t

Come the way we

Want it, no

It has its own agenda


Patience, Young son

Learn all you can

Apply it, and jog

Along side

It’s the journey, not the destination


April 17, 2013:

Tea Party

Set the teapot

Warm the flame

Check the Scones

Adjust the curtains


New Neighbors and Acquaintances


Drink the liquid gold

Hot cheeks, laughter flushed

Nibbling sweet treats

Open hearts and minds


New friends and conspirators


April 18, 2013:

Growing Roses

Sixty-five years of rose bushes

On the south side of the house

On the north side of Detroit

Gloved 85-year-old hands shake

As my young buck arms hold

The debris bucket

You talk about all the children

Rambling Red,

White Rugosa,

Lily Pons,

And, Margaret Chase

You sing hymns as you

Make cuttings for the

Church, Neighbors

Too bad I don’t have

A place to put a cutting

You say

The world is so different now

Not batter

It’s how

You say





Roses, they are always beautiful

You treat them right

They bloom brilliant and full

They hold still to paint

Not people

They move and people disappoint

My seat gives away my disgust

Yet I remain mute and empty the bucket


Roses can’t hug

Roses can’t hold the

Bucket or Listen to

You bitch


But I remain, because

I hope my presence shows you


Aren’t the only thing

You got.


April 19, 2013:


What is tough?


Is it survive the war?

Is it survive the day?

Is it survive the abuse?

Is it survive the disaster?

Is it survive the fight?

Is it survive the meal?


The job?

The marriage?





Or is it something different

For everyone?

All I know is that I’m

Still here


That’s a

Good start


April 20, 2013:

Painting Life Scenes

The red ball

Is tossed in

Rich Green Grass

It bounces near a rusty


Chased again by

Golden dog

Nudged into


Wheels of Tricycles

While Skinned knees

And smudged Sneakers

Hound a wiggling tail and the

Globe of Joy

Behind the Crimson barn

Memories glow

In sunshine

A slice of my



A light in

The dark

Just follow

The bouncing ball

in the

lush lawn of



My 2013 Happiness Project: April Mid-Month Report

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April is lightness & darkness all swirled together.

April has always been a weird month. It’s like the optimism of spring and the harshness of winter all combine and make for a swirling, confusing energy that makes April a massive roller coaster ride. When the daffodils are pelted with angry hail, a bit of our optimism seems to be stolen. When that freak snow storm comes in and cancels baseball games, we feel cheated. This April has been no exception.


A chronic crisis with my one child continues, making an acute level of stress for not only me, but my spouse and my other children. Continuing My Happiness Project seems both fruitless, yet necessary.  But when I examined my goals for this month under the lens of “should I even attempt to do this given all the strife currently,” I found a curious thing. They seemed to sync nicely with the challenges life was throwing nonstop at me and mine. Could I possibly be so intuitive? Blessed? Lucky? Apparently so.


In fact, I’ve found that thus far, my goals have been nothing but definitive coping skills for me. Using Humor, Making Memories, Unloading Useless Stuff, and Creating New Art – very much goals that help me problem-solve more efficiently, cope with the heartache I continue to experience, give some relief to my friends and family from the bullets of negativity we’re being wounded with, and creating beauty out of chaos.


Because of this synchronicity, I’ve been doing very well. Sometimes creating new art is difficult amongst the schedules of five people who have very different interests, goals, and desires. So, that has suffered most, but on the days that I am able to do it, the stretching of my skills and the like has been prolific. Therefore, I’m cutting myself some slack and being grateful for what I am accomplishing.


I’ve been a parent for 17 years; a step-parent for nearly 9 years. Using humor has always worked, but it hasn’t been my fall-back position. Because my special-needs child only responds to drill-sergeant like tactics, and because he eats up most of my time, that was my fall back. But I realized – hence why it was a goal – that wasn’t effective or fair to my other children. However, slowly but surely it’s becoming that. Laughing at our short-falls, our mistakes, and just the silliness that life can bring us is good medicine. Teaching kids to get over themselves and not think that everything is the end of the world, again, is a good thing. In short, it make for a calmer, happier home.


As a parent, I’ve learned that really my number one job is to make memories. Coloring when it’s too raining to go outside, making living room forts and watching scary movies, or holding them during their first heartbreak, and planning family outings that won’t likely go perfect, which will make them memorable, is what its all about.


Oh.My.Goodness. We Americans have too much stuff. Way too much stuff. It bogs us down, both physically, mentally, and emotionally. Every day I’ve been purging at least one thing. Sometimes more. If it doesn’t fit into the parameters (aka Happiness Conductors) I set up for my Happiness Project (Play & New Experiences; Friends & Family; Meaningful Activities; and, Appreciation/Gratitude), then off it goes. My trash man and blue-truck donation man love me right now. I feel lighter and I’ll continue to purge every day. It feels good. When was the last time you off loaded stuff? Stuff holds energy. It’s either positive or negative energies. Do you want to hold onto positive energy or negative energy? It was an easy answer for me:  positive all the way, baby.


Making New Art has been the most fun part of this month thus far. I’m stretching my writing with a poem a day for National Poetry Month. I’m learning to cut glass with more ease and grace. I pulled out the dremel tool and am trying to learn how to etch on glass as well. I also am painting in new techniques. I’m taking free “courses” via YouTube and Blogs and Library Book reading. I’m loving it. I don’t get to do it every day, but sometimes just watching how someone does something else creative, too; is worthy of an X. For the last bit of April, I might pick up the ukulele or guitar again and try my hand. We’ll see. It certainly is falling within my happiness conductor of Play & New Experiences. New Art. Love it. It may extend beyond April, because I’m having so much fun.


So just another 10 days in April. I feel good about them. It seems life, even with its seeming challenges with no solutions currently, is still good. I’m still happy. Happier than January? Definitely so. How about you?



Free-Range Fiction: Nat’l Poetry Month 4-15-13

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My entry for this day. A Haiku, which is my favorite kind of poem.

Happy Birthday, Rose.

April 15, 2013:


Today is for Rose

Fifteen on this fifteenth day

Oh! Watch out World Now

Free-Range Fiction: National Poetry Month Catch Up

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Hopefully the rest of the month, you’ll be able to find a new poem from me every day here at the ol’ Fiction Farm Blog.  Many of the pieces you will find below are me now beginning to push myself in the form of poetry. Learning a new art, per my Happiness Project and expanding my writing craft. Comments are appreciated, and please know make my day like you would not believe. Here’s catching up through yesterday:

April 10, 2013:

Terror in the Hall


I pound on the door

Anyone, please, come

Help Me, I know you’re there

The monster is after me


I lose my shoe as I run

The ribbon in my hair falls away next

My sleeve hangs from my shoulder

It reveals an already angry bruise


He has a fistful of my hair

Metal taste in my mouth

Blood drips from my nose

My heart pumping fear in my veins


I’m thrust to the ground

I scramble, kick, and crawl

Anywhere, just away

Another door, I bang, I plead


I curl against the kicks

I try to scream, but the noise

Comes out a whimper

Turning into a blurry haze


I send my mind inside the doors

Repetitive portals line the hall

3620? 3622? 3624? Anyone?

Call for help, the monster

Will end me; I feel death knocking


The darkness spreads

Like the blood on my face

His Hate smearing across me

Pummeling into my flesh and mind


I awake to blue and silver

In my swollen face

My jaw can’t move

My ribs poke my breath short


The terror, the monster is gone

Behind a door, a call was made

3619? 3621? 3623? Who?

A grateful anger transmits to my savior


But the blame is not for the monster

His actions so vile and horrific

I’m asked, no told, what did I do?

I provoked, I must have goaded


The monster is not caged

He’s left to roam free

To get stronger, to prey

On another innocent turned victim


April 11, 2013:

Play me your Ukelele


Twing, ting, and strum, strum, strum

That tiny sound that’s bigger on the inside

Fingers brush strings

Voice lifts over cafe din


Twang, tang, and strum, strum, strum

Notes pump into listeners ears swirling

Heads bop along, toes tap

Smiles spread across audience


Thrump, tump, and strum, strum, strum

Energy disguised as music pushes rain away

Eyes sparkle with the story in mind

Mood boosts, elevating past the roof


Clap, clop, and stomp, stomp, stomp

Cheers for the entertainment

Hands are furiously thanking artist

Energy exchanged in form of song and praise


April 12, 2013:

Insanity’s Home


I keep trying

He keeps trying me


It’s insanity

They say


It’s parental love

I say


Nothing changes

This I know


But I persevere

Hoping he’ll learn


We’ve come this far

So much further to go


Questions are raised

Raising more questions


Are my efforts

All for naught


Should I have let fate

Take its painful course?



However motherhood won’t deny

Gives me seemingly unending hope


I love regardless

He’s my child


Even if he’s one

That only a mother can love


For that, perhaps

I’m the unstable one


However, I’ll reach my end

Knowing I gave it all


April 13, 2013:

It’s not the destination


For on this day seven years ago we were wedded.

We took to road riding two wheels upon,

Into the wind our compass was shredded.

Without a map to our future we ploughed on.


Distraught in confidence for your husband duties,

I soothed you, fear not my piloting beloved.

Off course we’re more able to see the beauties,

Which life together could ne’r be unloved.


From that point on we embraced the mystery,

Holding on to one another’s spellbound embrace.

Even when life’s problems become blistery,

Inside one another’s hearts we find breathing space.


All these years we’ve traveled on in fondness.

Not where we end up, but the journey in passion.


April 14, 2013:

Mining the pain


The pain is like an old familiar friend now

It will be there when I awake

It will be there when I plant row by row

It will be there when my time it takes

I know it’s dealing with this agony

Is holding me back and keeping me down

Yet to do the work to heal brings apathy

What would I do without it around?


So I sit in the garden my heart throbbing

I know it’s a pest, a giant nuisance

One I know will constantly be squatting

Its claws so dug deep, ruthless


I’ve joined the ranks of enjoying menace

Resigned to believe its just part of my existence