Showing posts with label Earthweal. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Earthweal. Show all posts

Saturday, February 25, 2023

Double Haiga: True Blue

Photo by Cara Hartley/Ornery Owl
Taken at the Denver Aquarium on May 7, 2017

Text art and design elements added by the photographer (me) using pixlr.com
You are welcome to use either image, but please credit me.

stick to your real friends
at your side on rough waters
riding out the storm

Free use image by Anita Austvika on Unsplash


Text art and design elements added to the original photo by me
(Cara Hartley/Ornery Owl)
You are welcome to use this image, but please credit both me and the photographer.

forget those who float away
in the slightest breeze
petals of dying flowers

Sharing with








Here's the link in case you can't see the player.

If you don't have enough death, doom, or sludge in your life, this mix should take care of that deficiency.

I recommend giving the comments a miss. They get pretty dudebro-y. There's one particular specimen who totally grinds my gears. He could be taking the piss and I might be missing it because it's become very difficult to tell the difference between parody and reality these days. However, as a female hard rock and metal fan who put up with plenty of crap from chauvinistic male metalheads over the years, I am not amused by his referring to women as sluts. 

To be clear, when I say fan, I do not mean groupie. I was all in for the music. I never attempted to hook up with any band members. Sure, some of them looked pretty good, but I've never been a fly-by-night kind of woman.

Anyway, these long mixes make formatting blog posts a lot less boring. Give it a try!



Sunday, February 5, 2023

Lonely Soul

 

Photo taken 7 May 2017 at Denver Aquarium
Copyright Cara Hartley/Ornery Owl


you pass by each day
nobody sees or hears you
alone in a crowd

notes

It's been too long since I created a Haiga, or any kind of poem, really. I don't imagine anyone missed me, but I missed poetry.

The poet created the Haiga using one of her own photos and the software at pixlr.com

You are welcome to share either the photo or the Haiga, but please credit me.

The Haiga was inspired by a prompt from Carpe Diem Haiku.

I am sharing today's work with:





Here's some music to listen to while you read the poem. You're welcome to grab a coffee, tea, or whatever while you read and listen. From your own supply. I'll probably be a bit unsettled if you show up at my place demanding coffee or tea.

You know the drill if you've been here for a while. Here's the link in case you can't see the embedded player.


Friday, November 18, 2022

November PAD Challenge 2022: Day 18: Imagining Machine

 

Image by Chen from Pixabay

imagination

cooking up the strangest scenes

a funny machine


~ornery owl has spoken~


notes and prompts used


Write a funny poem.


Prompt: Imagining Machine

Also sharing with:


I was planning to share with Haiku My Heart, but the link-up for the 18th isn't ready yet. I want to steal...er...share a couple of verses shared by the blog mistress, Rebecca, on her entry for November 11th. 


"when it's all over, I want to say

all my life I was a bride married

to amazement.


I was a bridegroom,

taking the world into my arms."


mary oliver




I stuck a fork in this year's NaNoWriMo Rebellion project yesterday. I'm working on a new mental health/recovery project along the same lines called Remnants of a Year in the Life 2022: An Ornery Owl Diary. The book includes pages for readers to draw, write their own thoughts, whatever they need or want to do. I wrote nearly 3000 words on the project and created the following banner.


I started doing NaNoWriMo back in 2008. This is the first year that I came away from the project feeling like I had gained skills that are going to benefit me rather than thinking "well, thank fuck that's over, I don't know why I subjected myself to it." I hope I can take what I learned and use it to help others who may struggle with similar issues in their creative and personal lives.

I often ride myself about "getting nothing done" when I don't accomplish everything I hoped to in a given day. For instance, I did not end up working on my anthology submission or the Tales from the Dreamlands project today. I did not get any editing done. I've fallen behind in my blog hop participation...again...like always. The inner critic starts ripping me to shreds.

"Look at you. You can't do anything right. You'll always be a failure. How the hell hard is it to write a thousand words? How the hell long can it take to edit a chapter? You started writing a nine-word poem two hours ago. Nine words, you loser! How hard is it to publish THAT? Anybody can write nine words!"

Yeah, but hold on one damn minute, Ayce Hole. The poem was nine words, but the post total is closer to 500. I already wrote 3000 words today. I've spent around six hours writing and formatting. I may have issues with time management and with my mind wandering off in 666 directions at once, but you do not get to call me lazy. You abused me for closing in on 60 years, and I will no longer stand for it.

And that, my friends, is how you shut down your inner critic. It took me long enough to gain the confidence to stop listening to her lies, but now I slag her off every day. It's a good habit to have.

I think I've done enough damage around this pop stand today. I need to format this post to include in November Beginnings and Remnants of 2022 before sending it on its way.

Lest I forget, here is tonight's soundtrack.



Here's the link in case you can't see the player.


But wait, there's more!

Here's the link in case you can't see the player.

Thursday, November 10, 2022

November PAD Challenge 2022: Day 10: On the Parched Prairie

 

Image by Robert Balog from Pixabay

we haven't seen much
of moisture or such
for years here on the parched prairie

we struggle to get by
under the dry sky
the threat of wildfire is scary

the world's supposed caretakers
try to hire rainmakers
after blaming climate change on Tom, Dick, and Harry

corporations don't give a fig
about prairie dog or wild pig
as their ill-advised actions they bury

"blame it on La Niña," they say
as they point the attention away
from the toxins their manufacturing spreads from dairy to eyrie

who cares if we lose the prairie?
it's a place nobody wants to tarry
yet what's happening should make everyone wary

~Ornery Owl Has Spoken~

Image by Alexa from Pixabay

prompts used

Write a struggle poem. Portions of the Western United States have been struggling with extreme drought for several years. 


The line about rainmakers references the movie Rainmaker.


The instructions:
"Choose some fuzzy topic to define. [Life, community, love, distraction, death, racism, god, whatever suits you at the moment] Define it by indirection."

I think I did this. Maybe. Sort of. The topic is climate change.

I may also share this poem with the Earthweal open link this weekend. Possibly.




I often find video game soundtracks to be great background music for writing.

Here's the link in case you can't see the player.

https://odysee.com/@GamingAmbience:6/destiny-2-mars-dynamo-approach:2?r=GTwnGJ4fFBQfzuJgpHVpfKBKaC9b8B16












Monday, November 7, 2022

November PAD Challenge 2022: Day 7: Adapt or Die

 

"Adapt or die, foolish little fool!" the intimidating alien rumbled.

I, however, refused to be shaken, no matter how he grumbled.

"Hah!" I snorted. "For something so impressive in appearance, you certainly lack cleverness.

"Anyone can see that I am far from little.

"My ass is large, and so is my middle."

"Yes, and you've had to find the key to adapting to such undesired conditions, haven't you?" the being inquired pensively. 

"Your luck has not been exactly stellar, wouldn't you agree?

"What you found when you were transported over the rainbow was not what you hoped to see.

"When you shuffled off to the pier to see if your sacred ship had come in,

"Mawkish mediums informed you that your destiny was arriving at the airport too far in the distance for you to find redemption."

"Indeed, and when I asked them to elaborate, they promised to do so for a small fee equal to several of my paychecks," I replied. "I had a suspicion that they might have lied, so I decided I didn't care a shingle for their advice and proceeded to do things my way from that day forward."

"And how is that working out for you?" the alien, who now suspiciously resembled Dr. Phil, pressed.

"Probably better than the flashy fairy tale I once believed was my destiny," I sentimentally surmised, as glimmers of dreams of what might have been glittered in my eyes, overflowing down my face. "I'm pleased that I'm not surrounded by fake people to annoy me, but there have been times in my life when loneliness threatened to destroy me.

"I've discovered first-hand that no one cares how the disabled, elderly, and downtrodden fare.

"If you aren't young and you aren't pretty, nobody wants to see you anywhere.

"The liberal elite as much as the rigid right would prefer that the likes of me die and decrease the surplus population.

"Society cares only about the up-and-coming, not those nearing their destination.

"Age bias is rampant, the outsides given more weight than what lies within.

"If I were at all religious, I'd say it's a goddamn sin.

"Being a caustic agnostic, I'll just say it's a crying shame.

"Every year I hope for improvement, and every year it's always the same."

"Yet still you keep on kicking," the alien said, impressed. "I hope to meet more folk like you in my travels--ugly, angry, disabled, fat old women are the best!"

As the alien took off in his spaceship, I couldn't help but grin.

If we'd care more about what's on the inside, a better world could begin.

~Ornery Owl Has Spoken~


Ornery Owl
Free use image from Open Clipart Vectors


Free use image by Clkr Free Vector Images on Pixabay

Hangry Wyrm sez:
"I really ate this story up. Five out of five stars! Can we have breakfast now?"


Get your groove on with this melodic deep house mix.

Here's the link in case you can't see the player.




Here's another Deep House mix in case you happen to be bogged down with formatting an hour later. Like, you know, not me. I never get bogged down with formatting, or editing, or, you know, anything, because I'm completely perfect and do everything right the first time. First draft? Hah! You mean only draft, Sunshine, because I'm just that good!

I'm off to find someplace to hide my metric butt-ton of bullshit now. Here's the link in case you can't see the player. 


notes and prompts used


The prompt requests:
"For this challenge, let’s go on a wild walk together. Report on what you’ve found and the lessons you’ve learned."

While my piece did not address nature as such, it addresses the sometimes difficult lessons I've learned about myself in my nearly 60 years walking this planet. I honestly don't think I would have survived those "Hollywood dreams" I had in my youth. I'm a sensitive soul, though I seem thick-skinned.


Today's challenge asks participants to create a poem about adaption.


I almost forgot about this prompt. I'll probably play catch-up with it over the next few days. Today's suggestion is:

"Another form of being has just communicated something to you...Write down 5-10 words, to fix the moment forever in your mind then use those words to write about something else."

This prompt gave me the idea of the alien communicating with me.


Word List

key

rainbow

distant/distance

shuffle

transport/ed

shingle

redemption

pier

mediums

sacred

elaborate

suspicion

also sharing with



Sunday, November 6, 2022

November PAD Challenge 2022: Day 6: Clickbait News and Toxic Trends

 

Image by John Hain from Pixabay

who should we sacrifice

to uphold our hallowed principles du jour?

will eight victims be enough

to satisfy the blood lust of today’s trendsetters

so quick to jump on the bandwagon

playing to the cause célèbre of the moment for clout?

~Ornery Owl Has Spoken~


Image by Amy from Pixabay

prompts used

Prompt word: Play


Today's prompt: Write a poem using the words “eight”, “hallowed”, and “sacrifice”.


Write a news poem.

Also sharing with




Consider this deep progressive house mix for your poetry-creating background music. Here's the link in case you can't see the player.














Thursday, November 3, 2022

November PAD Challenge 2022: Day 3: The Golden Apples Left to Rot

Image by jhenning from Pixabay

You encouraged me from an early age
To learn about so many things
You read to me about the golden apples of the sun

You'll be gone twelve years at the end of this month
But even if you were still here and still you
I could never ask

Because you would only say
That you were right
And I was misguided

That's the way it always was
No sense in denying it now

Why did you teach me
All of those wonderful things
And then try to turn me away from them?

Why did you tell me
I needed to get a practical job
As a secretary or a nurse

When time and time again
I proved to have no aptitude
For such professions

I spent most of my life
Believing I was broken
When maybe I just didn't fit
Where I was told I ought to

I was misguided
But maybe so were you
At least when it comes to this

You planted the seed of the golden apples in my mind
I will cultivate this orchard of my imagination now
While there's still a little time

I wish that you could see the results
Maybe you do
Maybe now you can understand me 

I wasn't like you
I couldn't be
I can only be like me

Is that really such a bad thing after all?

I will always love you, Dad
But the hurt of never knowing your approval
Never ends
Even now as I approach the twilight of my life

Your daughter,
Ornery Owl

Image by Willgard Krause from Pixabay

notes and prompts used

"The golden apples of the sun" is a line from the poem The Song of Wandering Aengus by William Butler Yeats.


It is also the title of a collection of stories by Ray Bradbury published in 1953.

My father was a professor of arts and humanities. I can remember him reading The Song of Wandering Aengus and The Tyger by William Blake.


I learned how to read by the time I was four years old. My father wanted me to be a prodigy. I have no idea if I have the intellectual capacity for such. After all, I was labeled borderline retarded when I was eleven years old. 

I know for a fact that I don't have the patience to be a prodigy. I know now that I have ADHD, but that's a whole other story unto itself, so we'll save it for another time, possibly the same bat-channel, possibly not. It remains to be seen.

I always questioned how I could be retarded when I was reading and writing at an eighth grade level when I was in the fifth grade. However, I was terrible at anything beyond addition and subtraction, and I earned the borderline retarded label by spectacularly bombing on the Ravens IQ Assessment, which is based around pattern recognition. 

I also had some physical coordination problems courtesy of frequent ear infections in early childhood, and I had to use a special trick to determine left from right. I still use this trick at nearly 58 years old. Just last year, I added the Never Eat Shredded Wheat mnemonic to my arsenal, so I finally can work out direction. This is an excellent tool as I have no internal compass whatsoever.

When I was 23 years old, I learned that I was not retarded, I was somewhat dyslexic. That explained a lot, and it also made me want to go back in time and slap the school psychologist, the gym teacher who put me in the special gym class, and also my sixth-grade teacher. Granted, I already wanted to smack my sixth-grade teacher because he was an abusive asshole, but that's another story for another time.

As I moved into my teen years, my parents tried to push me in directions I wasn't interested in. I now understand some of their concerns, but they went about things the wrong way. Folks, if you try to browbeat a teenager into doing something, they will either push back and do the opposite of what you want, or they will comply and resent you. Neither of those is something you want, so here's what you need to do instead.

Many of us cursed by a love for artistic endeavors know how hard it is to make a living at our obsession. This is why those with a love for the arts should also be encouraged to learn a trade they can tolerate. It needs to be a trade of their choosing, not of yours.

I did a Book Blogger Hop post about a book called Reconfigurement. It was written to help older adults find a new career path, but many of the exercises can also help people of any age figure out what careers they might enjoy. You can read the post at the following link


Or just head over to Amazon and check it out.


I will earn a small commission from Amazon for anything purchased through the above link.

And now, without further ado-doo, I will share the prompts that prompted me to create today's poem and post.


The weekly challenge from Earthweal asks poets to "look back at our younger selves, back to the first poems that made us notice them, and see where they have taken us." Some of my earliest memories involve my father reading to me the poems mentioned above.


Today's prompt asks poets to craft a "misguided" poem. Some readers may think this entire post is misguided. You are within your rights to think that, just as I am within mine to give no fucks what anyone else thinks.

Image by Thomas from Pixabay
Critical Chicken is judging you







Sunday, September 25, 2022

30 Days of Haiga 2022: Peaceful Aquarium

 

Photo taken 7 May 2017 at Denver Aquarium
Copyright Cara Hartley/Ornery Owl



text

stingray swims with fish
coexisting peacefully
we should be like them

notes
The greatest photographer the world has ever known captured the image at the top of the post, which inspired the creation of today's Haiga. 

;-) 

Tongue planted firmly in cheek. I am hardly the greatest anything the world has ever known, except for possibly the world's greatest mess. I do, however, like my own photographs.

I really made a shambles of this post. My son and I were going to visit my mother on Sunday, so I made the post halfway and then, for reasons unclear to anybody, just published it. I didn't even include the Haiga.

You're welcome to use both the original image in the Haiga, but please credit Cara Hartley/Ornery Owl and provide a link back to this blog.

The fact that I find my gaffe with this post so disconcerting tells me that something else is going on in this ridiculous squirrel blender that I call a mind. I've been presenting as "okay" on the surface, even to me, but being this unsettled over a bit of a nothingburger of a mistake says I'm really not. There's nobody I can tell I'm really not okay, and that makes it feel even worse.

Moving along because who really gives a rat's.

This week's prompt from Poets and Storytellers United, the theme of which is war and peace was another source of inspiration.


I am also sharing the poem with the following blog hops.

https://magicalmysticalteacher.wordpress.com/



https://viewingnaturewitheileen.blogspot.com/