Hello Poetry People! Today I've selected the Romantic Collection from Blackmore's Night to inspire our poetry adventures. Don't feel like I'm telling you that you must write about something romantic. I didn't. The music helps me relax and get where my soul wants to take me on my poetic journey.
Did I just use the word "journey?" Crap!
"Journey" is one of those words that gets overused a lot. But since our souls are on a journey, some on a more perilous one than others, I'll stand by it.
look and see what is present, in your surroundings and/or your heart, and write of that. Limit 369 words.
The cruel way that larger people are treated is always present in my heart, particularly the way fat women are both denigrated and sexualized. Since the "fattest thing I've ever done" is existed, I can't say "today I'm going to take off the fat suit and enjoy life being treated as a human being." It doesn't work that way.
Being born female insures harassment regardless of size, and this is reflected in the poem.
Hello Poetry People. My piece today went in a feminist direction, and not the sexy fun kind. I'll give you the prompts I used and then explain my inspiration.
I am a very large female thing and it's no secret that large women get shit on by society. However, some of you may find it hard to believe is big women are both reviled and targeted as conquests by creepy men who think we're all desperate and easy marks. In my case, you can add being socially awkward and now physically disabled to the mix.
The end result? Being hit on by the same nasty-ass men who make rude comments about my body because they don't think I have the self-respect to tell them to fuck off entirely.
Being desirable to men is not my life's purpose and it shouldn't be any woman's life's purpose. If that man doesn't like me for me, even if he deigns to accept me despite my being fat and "ugly," what the fuck do I need his useless ass around for? I don't.
Never accept someone's emotional abuse. You deserve better than that. And, if you happen to be large in a society that keeps trying to sell us dumb diet plans that don't work, fuck that emotional abuse too.
Here's a bonus track for today's inspiration. Someone made a cool animation for Helen Reddy's beautifully eerie song Angie Baby. I hope you enjoy it!
Good morning, Poetry People. I started this morning on the Debussy train, but the poetry prompts put me in a different direction as I recalled a dream experience I had on the night of April 7 into April 8.
I write often of Gem who is no longer of this world. There was pain between us at the time of his departure because of my jealous and insecure nature. I believed he wanted to put as much distance between him and me as possible, but this dream/astral experience told me something else.
You're getting extra music today because I've a story to tell. I sang this second song a lot after Gem left because it reminded me of his beautiful eyes that seemed to change color depending on the light and it also speaks to the pain that remained unresolved between us. Ronnie James Dio's vocals are a treasure beyond measure.
Not to put too fine a point on it, but I don't give a rat's ass what you think about my experience. Yes, it's possible that I concocted the whole thing in my fevered subconscious, but it was real to me, so don't be a cunt.
My experience was simply this: Gem and I danced together. He held me close while Catch the Rainbow played and I realized he didn't hate me as I feared he did. He really didn't recognize me or anyone else at the end of his life because the disease that destroyed his body also destroyed his mind, at least on a physical level. I was so grateful to him for bringing this dream to me.
At the end of our Earthly experience together, Gem's and my relationship was more Still Lovin' You than Catch the Rainbow thanks to my jealousy and insecurity. He did nothing wrong, but I feared he would find someone younger, prettier, better. He was always having to soothe my insecurities.
For the people who love to plop down platitudes encouraging those who have lost a partner to "find love again," please secure that shit. Overall for me, the love game has been a losing one. I have a long and storied history of picking truly awful men. The scars on my wrists are a testament to how that shit usually ends up.
Gem is not my sweetheart's real name. I called him that because he was a "Gem" among men. He was one of a kind and I won't find another like him. Also, in point of fact, I don't want to.
By the way, if this experience was simply a manifestation of my subconscious, I think I would have dreamed about the person who was the inspiration behind Ketil, a hero in my Tales from the Dreamlands series. April 8 was the anniversary date of his suicide 31 years ago.
Had "Ketil" appeared in my night visions, I would know better than to write him off as a figment of my subconscious. He wouldn't let me get away with it.
I hope that today's intensive session brought you some inspiration for your own poetry. Don't trouble yourself to give me romantic advice, just keep writing! I promise you I'll return the favor.
Anyway, I'm closing in on 60 years old and I have a fuck-ton of health problems. The last damn thing I want or need is another relationship to potentially fuck up. I've had the best. The only other men out there are either related to me or they're The Rest. Either way, it's a no from me.
Hello Poetry People! For today's musical inspiration I bring you some cool psychill compiled by @AncientRealms on Odysee. Check it out if you need a relaxing vibe while writing poetry or meditating or whatever you like.
Here are the prompts that I used in creating today's poem, Superego Says.
Robert Lee Brewer, the host of the April PAD Challenge, has issued a Write a Kimo Challenge. Follow the link to find out more. Enter for possible publication and all the glory that goes along with it. The deadline to enter the Kimo challenge is May 15. The poem must be previously unpublished.
How's it going, Poetry People? We're a week into this year's challenge and today for your inspirational pleasure I present you with a tasty treat. It's the Director's Cut of Pink Floyd Live at Pompeii which includes interviews and studio footage with the band and, of course, you have Pink Floyd's one-of-a-kind prog rock sound to inspire your poetic creations.
Today's chapbook chapter is a Choka inspired by the following three prompts:
I interpreted the prompt as "new world" and described a common scenario from the current dystopia. I take it that nobody reading my poetry or my blog posts is Jeff Bezos, Cruella DeVil, or Elon Musk. If you are Jeff Bezos, Cruella DeVil, or Elon Musk, consider yourself lectured. The rest of you need not take it that way.
Before I hop up on the pulpit, I want to let you know about a free resource that you never have to feel guilty about taking advantage of. I participate in Make It Happen Thursday at the Go Dog Go Cafe. Enjoy sharing tips and tricks for inspiration and breaking out of writer's block while meeting other authors and poets. It's a win-win.
And now on to the inspiration behind today's poem.
I feel like I sell my soul every time I publish on Amazon or buy anything on Amazon. I publish there because that's where everyone buys books these days. Amazon allows me to make my books available through Kindle Unlimited so readers can try before they buy. I keep the prices of my books low by selling on Amazon. Publishing on Amazon makes good business sense.
I earn about $5 per week in Amazon gift cards by farting around playing games on my phone through the Just Play app. I take advantage of Amazon pricing. I'd like to think that if I ever make it big, I will be a saint and only buy directly from the source and only sustainably produced goods. I'd like to think that, but I don't know if it's true. I'm guilty of supporting a system that harms others.
I zeroed in on the "abundance" that even a broke schlub like me can enjoy by shopping on Amazon, a company that takes advantage of Chinese sweatshop labor and treats its own employees like used snot rags.
Does Amazon benefit from the permanent lower class that exists in most countries?
Damn skippy.
Many things need to change before people living on the dole (including disability, social security, and other welfare programs) are willing or able to be super-selective about where their products are coming from. For instance, with meat, I am in proximity to an independently run butcher shop that gets its product from small local farms with high standards for ethical treatment of their livestock. This butcher shop charges no more for this high-quality product than the grocery store does for their meats.
My son and I make compromises in other areas. Most of our food comes from the monthly food bank. Any meat we get through the food bank does not meet these high standards.
Many people are in a worse position than I am. I have a working vehicle. I can drive to Fort Collins once a month to buy meat. While I would prefer that everyone who eats meat purchased an ethically sourced product, I'm not in a position to lecture anybody.
Most of us are not benefiting in the current economy. Raising awareness is one thing, scolding is another. I know I'm more than capable of jumping on my high horse, but I don't enjoy the fall when I get knocked off. My advice is to avoid high horses and to support local businesses whenever you can. I know it isn't always workable when you're one of the Broke Folk.
