©2017 By Patricia Harris
We write because we must,
Lest insanity set in.
We write the snarls
Emotionally,
Lest the outside world
Cave in.
The words each a monster,
Deep inside our heads,
Tearing down our psyche
Demanding to be heard.
We write because
Without it,
We are but simply
Star dust.
With so much requiring our attention, this time of year is not always a productive time for us writers. Well at least in a personal sense. Between Nanowrimo and the November PAD challenges, and other writing, there is more than enough people looking for our attention. Add in normal Seasonal blues that many have, and it can be overwhelming.
Personally, I find myself an anxious mess about the amount I am expected to join in. I chose not to do Nano this year because of the amount of stuff I have going on in my personal life…still I am finding that other writers are looking for me to join. I am so glad that I have friends that include me. There is always something to be said for that.
I have been doing the PAD challenge. I also have managed to get a bit farther in Rust, Gore and the Junkyard Zombie. I believe that 2018 will be a wonderful year for book releases. Many wonderful writers are doing Nano this year. I am cheering them on.
However, with all that I have going on, life is weighing heavy on this girl right now. It means that I am finding my spoon supply a lot smaller. Forgive me my sweet ones if I fail to post more that a couple times during the next two months. I will do my best to keep all my balls I am juggling in the air, but if one falls…I will just have to dust myself off and try some more.
Just wanted to let y’all know….I am doing the Pad Challenge. I will be sharing a few more of my poems in November than usual….keep an eye here!
©2017
by Patricia Harris
Inspiration,
A fickle beast.
Today a river flowing,
Tomorrow a dry gulch again.
The muse delighted
Ideas a plenty,
While art completed
Few indeed.
Feast, young poet,
Writer, or artist.
While the muse is generous,
Lest your time of
Creativity become too lean.
Well I have been extra prolific this year with poetry. I just published my third volume for the year. That was three times what I have managed before. So I was not expecting to do much else poetry wise this year. I have two children’s stories I want to finish, a novel half written(as Serena), a novella that needs more(again Serena) and two stories due to an anthology I am doing by March. So I was sitting down to work on Serena’s Rust, Gore, and the Junkyard Zombie.
I found myself distracted…and so to clear my mind I started to write out my thoughts. A mental cleansing if you will. Next thing I knew I have seven poems for my next volume. I don’t have any idea of why I have been this inspired, but I am not going to complain.
Go peek at my author page. I have added Literary Drops already. There are other great volumes available too. It seems that my muse has decided to be kind, so I will be releasing more soon. Tomorrow, when I type the new ones in, I will be sure to post at least one for y’all to enjoy.
And in case you are curious about Serena, she has an Author page as well. Currently it only has a single novella, but keep your eyes out for that to change.
By Patricia Harris ©2017
Word Jazz
Not structured
Poetic improv
Pieced together
Thoughts, emotions,
Smiles and tears.
Word song,
Spilled soul
To paper
Spilled mind
To sight.
Eclectic,
And smooth.
Energetic,
Makes the heart move.
Just when I felt my most alone,
Lost from my soul, unknown,
That is when discovery came.
Teaching me,
Learning how to lean in,
Learning to accept love
Growing, evolving.
Welcoming the arms
Of unconditional
Support wrapping
Self doubt,
Carrying the dream
Carrying the need
To be known.
Each one a star,
Shining brightly in
The darkness of the night
Of a soul lost and forlorn.
Stretching across the chasm
Of eternity.
By Patricia Harris ©2017
Even perfect days
can end in rain,
Soft mists that barely cover
Or wrenching downpours
That wash away
The emotional bubble.
Dancing in the wet,
Playing with the moment
Much as a child unsupervised.
Pretending that all
Our troubles are forgot,
Yes, even a perfect day
Can end in rain.
Rain, though it symbolizes
Dreary, dark moments
Can bring a pause,
A simple time to let go,
To play as the clocks hands
Move across the tic tocking
Of adulthood.
Release,
Allowing joy to wash off
Stress, pain, tension,
And then to leave us
In a forgotten moment
In the lost minutes of
Childhoods hour.
©Patricia Harris 2017
I shed my wings for you,
Tearing free each piece of
That which made me.
Ripping out blood and bone
To become that which
You have always known.
Making sure that I could
Never again take to the wind,
For to become the one
You imagined that I would be.
I shed my wings for you,
And then you turned away,
You said goodbye.
I am pleased to claim 19 of the 24 prompts given for the marathon. I have 20 poems now for Literary Drops. I hope to be publishing it in December.
