Bed Music-Charles Simic

Our love was new, 

But your bedspreads were old.

In the flat below,

They stopped eating

With forks in the air. 
They made the old sour puss

Climb the stairs

and squint through the keyhole,

While we went right ahead

Making the springs toot,
Playing “Low Down on the Bayou,”

Playing “Big Legend Mama,”

Playing “Shake It Baby”

And “Carolina Shout.”
That was the limit!

They called the fire brigade.

They called the Law.

They could’ve brought some hooch,

We told the cops.


She Gave Life

Her six inch scar

Was a permanent reminder

of the gift she gave. 

That pink hypertrophic cross 

of life

always glared at those 

who dared to take notice. 
Apparently, the scar knew that 

She wouldn’t raise a shrinking violet.

She brought forth 

a tempest.

All wild haired and fiery;

a whirlwind 

of words, venom and sporadic niceness.

She spun that into poetry. 


I Finally Did It

I got Scrivener! It’s been one of my goals for a few years and it was near the top of this year’s list when I learned about a sale that would allow me to purchase it for $20. I just couldn’t say no to that! Scrivener is a writing software program that helps with plotting, organizing, and formatting. 

I haven’t used it yet because I decided to do the tutorial again to familiarize myself with the software. I’m slowly working my way through that again but imagine the sheer joy that I felt upon learning that I can import text into it! So I can work on everything that I previously created without rewriting it all. 

Expect a post on my experience with Scrivener in the next month or so. After I finish the tutorial, I plan to import my NANOWRIMO story from 2015 in the next few weeks to see how it works. 

How do tou write? Paper and pen or another system? Is anyone else a Scrivener user? How is it? 


How Batch Blog planning Worked for me

As I shared last month, I decided to give batch blogging a try while I was traveling. Batch blog planning appealed to me because I love the idea of writing my posts, or planning them all, on one day and then creating or selecting images on another one. It didn’t really work out for that well because I was traveling while trying to complete my tasks but I really like the concept behind it.

I am still struggling with dedicating days for each batch of tasks but I think this is the future of my blog planning. It allows me to plan for all of my ideas but to also think about what images I want to attach and not schedule my posts so that they publish and I don’t miss a week of posting. 

 Also, I have these blog planning sheets that I need to use up and batch blog planning is going to help me with that as well. So far, I have been able to plan ahead for the next two weeks of posts if I post twice a week. If not, then I have enough for a month. 

Have any of you successfully planned your posts? 

reading, writing

Writer’s Travel List-Update

I went to New Orleans, again! This time, I was able to mark off something from my literary travel wish list. Right before I landed, I took a look at the New Orleans section of the list just as a refresher. Of course, I visited the French Quarter, and ate beignets and po’ boys but…I also went to Faulkner House Books. It was so amazing! It’s a small place but it’s shelves are filled with books so as a bibliophile I was suitably impressed. I managed to keep my purchases down to two books but I’m already envisioning a trip back. 

I was also able to sneak in a bit of writing while I was away. I’ve found that when I travel, I’m almost always inspired to create. So expect to see that in the coming weeks. 


We have no choice in the bodies that hold us- Holly Amos

It has been an extremely hectic week but I wanted to make sure that I posted something this week. I ran across this poem on poets.org whole looking for something to post. I think I fell a little in love with it because of the subject. 

As always, I hope you enjoy! 

Thing of dirt and water and oxygen marked by thinking

and reacting and a couch
one may or may not be permitted
to sleep on. He may not permit me
to touch him or to take the bone
from his mouth, but he does, and that’s a choice
based on many factors, not the least of which
is his own desire to let me
do these things. How I could ever
think or feel myself more
deserving of a single thing than
this being, whom I call by a name the same way
my parents chose a name for me. The same way my genes
went expressing themselves to make my face exactly
my face. This isn’t special. Or this is special. But it’s one
answer, the same, for us both.