Bone Tired
By Patricia Harris
When does sleep
Finally catch up
With the tired
A lifetime long?
It’s not that I am complaining,
For life is full, and I am aware,
But more than three hours
Would help feel like
I have been mauled by a bear.
So one of my favorite people is off on an adventure today. Raz T. Slasher is going to be at Final Boss Con today at a table talking about his books. If you are in Ohio in the area, stop by and say hi for me.
He is one that I have enjoyed publishing, and knowing for a little bit now. It’s only about an hour away from where I live but I can’t get transportation to go see him.
Humanity
By Patricia Harris
Define for me
That which makes us human?
The bits that keep us from
Being defined as animals
Or monster…
Remind me,
On my dark days,
That all that is within me
Is still humanity…
Even if I wonder if I ever
Was human at all?
So you found a new book?
Or maybe you just published one?
Did you find a new webcomic that you like?
Or a song you think everyone should hear?
No need for explanation…Just Share it.
You find a good deal that you think we should all see? Just share!
Or hey even a joke you think too fun not to share, Just share it.
Post links in the comments.
Occasionally I will too.
I am frazzled this day, I slept wrong and I don’t feel good. So I am trying to find my way today and it is becoming a struggle because I am not working on my normal schedule. I normally have my blog scheduled ahead…but I was doing it daily because I was doing a daily poem. Now I am in between the two. I don’t do well with change.
I am trying to at least keep the blog as active as I can…but this is difficult. Tomorrow is easy. I can share my normal Friday thing and it will work. Thursday is the problem. I want to do more of a discussion about art and the use of it in the day to day…and that will take planning. Which I can not do on the lack of sleep I have had.
Thank you for your Patience….
So I finished with the pad challenge yesterday and now I am starting the next phase of my new blog experience… and I don’t have any posts planned for this week. That means that I will be posting at random times for the next couple of days… but I am going to be trying to figure out what the new blog is going to be looking like.
I have a book review for a friend that I will be posting sometime soon – I was lucky enough to get an ARC for her book… and I can’t wait to tell you what I think about it. I have nearly finished reading it. My review is likely to be released near the release date in June.
Hope Splashes has a release date soon.
Chasing Ghosts is also releasing soon.
Fae Corps Publishing has a full release schedule until January of next year. So I will be able to talk about the publisher side of things some as well.
I still have to go through the categories and do a bit of a cleaning. I hope to get it done before next week.
Though I have done a lot of changes and the changes may mean the blog looks different, I think that it will be nicer to read in the long run.
The End
By Patricia Harris
Is once the word is spoken
at the end of it’s life,
nothing further for it to know?
or is the verse just beginning
and the speech the start
of all it will know?
Either way I feel like
the word spoken in verse
will catch something more than
interest and ignite a new thirst.
In the middle of madness
Lay the verse,
Written down to try to explain
Something dark and perfect.
That the world can be seen
With eyes shaded by dark things,
Or overgrown with flowers
That bloom in nightshade.
All of this is just an expression
Of poetry and the truth from
What a heart can bleed.
Until dawn
By Patricia Harris
Staying awake for no reason
Until dawn approaches
Produces the same dreams
As if you were to crawl into
Bed as soon as the night falls.
Telling the self that life
Must fit in the schedule
Given by social settings
Only creates a guilt
Unnecessarily.
Words detached from the heart
Spelled into the pen,
Creating from the energy given
The poetry given to the world..
Perhaps I could do something more
With the energy than shaping it
Into the verse so fair,
But the perverse nature of my heart
Says that I must make the poetry.
Pattimouse 