November Orphans of war, Veterans who knew the score; Evolutive remnants of humankind, Maligned; Begat of canon-like song. Earthborn: right the wrong! Remember
Memories being what they may: from the Meuse-Argonne forest to the cemetary; from the fallen leaves of the earth to the cease-fire of a world war's girth; and, from the remains left of the wild, onward to the right of the child. The month of November is a time to remember. Children born and bred of war with needs ignored would give rise to fighting for a new cause: children's rights.
I will not for repetition's sake share words of war; instead, I shall share with you two days, two names, and the pleas they implore: Armistice Day and Universal Children's Day; and the names, Lady Blomfield and Eglantyne Jebb.
It matters not that some celebrate on a different day, even a different month. And it matters not that some acknowledge one or the other. What matters is we remember that war steals one thing from all the children of the earth: Peace!
In my wanderings as I surfed the net today, I ran across five stipulations of the original Declaration of the Rights of the Child. In reading them I couldn't help but think that if we each put these into practice as the rights of all the children of the earth, then we might truly know perfect peace.
Len's Saturday Writing Essential Challenge: Write something (prose or poetry; fiction, essay, or nonfiction) about the month of November. Do not write about Thanksgiving -- I’m reserving that for a challenge later in the month.
As summer nears its end and fall of the leaves begins, I find myself in a reflective mood once again. Seasons change, as do you and I. Let us hope that we do so with the same golden glory of Mother Nature...
"Hooray, it's Saturday," my belly bellows as I slip out of bed. I give it a rub to shut it up so as not to awaken my three sister siblings who still lay scattered on the double bed like a pile of worn out clothes. I listen for sounds from the outer room. I hear only the television, thankfully. This means only Mom is up and maybe, just maybe, my hungry belly and I can have a moment alone with her to convince her to take us to church for the free lunch and clothing bank.
Created in response to my friend Renda's new Gather group -- Models Among Us -- a group with bimonthly challenges.
The very first challenge of the group will begin September 1st and run through September 15th:
In hopes of making the virgin challenge easy, our first model will be the Butterfly. Each submission for the challenge should depict the butterfly or butterflies. If you aren't a photographer, do not worry, you may submit a story about butterflies.
I ran across this photo of a school bus today. I read the photographer's comment, "This item has been decaying into the landscape forever." I couldn't help but think, Yes, as is our educational system. I thought of illiteracy ... Ill litter I see.
And what a timely reminder as many of us prepare to send our children back to school to be instructed by our educators to the tune of The Three R's - Reading, wRiting, and aRithmetic. Let us all remember there are three more R's of importance - Right, Responsibility, and Respect. Education should be considered a Right for one and for all; education should be considered a Responsibility by one and by all; education should be treated with Respect by one and by all.
Education empowers. As we gain knowledge, we also gain self-confidence, self-respect, and self-satisfaction. Let us put education back on the bus and in the driver seat by encouraging the three R's and then some.
Let not our funds for education shrink; let not the numbers of our educated sink; let not our minds be left untrained to think.
NOTE: I have now put this in a postcard version as the first in a series of Postcards for a Purpose. I encourage everyone to send a postcard to their state and local representatives!
First impressions often hold true when meeting someone new; our first thoughts regarding words may do same.
I couldn't resist getting in on the Word Game and I was delighted to receive my five words from Tracie Walker. My first impression of Tracie -- delightfully fun and friendly!
I decided to immediately freewrite and share my first thoughts for each of my words. I'd planned to elaborate afterwards, but have now decided against doing such, for the moment at least, though I may do so in later posts.
Romance: Happenstance; perchance a dance of two tangling into a woven web of one; for a moment in time romance feels like taking a stance, a you and me together.
Boat: Float your boat, doing whatever floats your boat; but I must wonder do we want to float alone or at someone else's expense? Shall we sink or swim, alone or together on our boat sailing out to sea?
Expect: Expectations often lead to dissapointment; expect nothing and be surprised at the wonders received.
Cheer: Spread good cheer, (my favorite way is to spread a bit o' sunshine); you'll be delighted with it bouncing back at you at just the right time, and generally tenfold -- Cheers!
Specific: Nothing in life is purely specific, but everything in life can be terrific when we welcome with sensitivity and deversity rather than specificity.
Here's my referral link to Associated Content so you can sign up and join the fun:
Be it a quest for new information, by definition fact nor fiction; a tale of truth of the ages old, awaiting its time to be told; or, a promise in the pages of novella worlds to unfurl: the answer to the query depends upon what it is one may be longing for. READ MORE HERE
Blogging and author friend, Charmaine Clancy, shared a great and fun link on her blog, Wagging Tales, and I just had to share it with you, too. The link is to I Write Like, a writing style analyzer, where you simply insert your writing into the analyzer tool and it will tell you which famous author your writing style resembles.
I decided to have three samples of my writing analyzed and was quite pleased and amused by the results. First was a sampling of my poetry, since it is my preferred choice of writing. I inserted the following poem:
In pre-dawn hour ship spirits hail;
Gypsy o' the sea is bade, "Set sail."
Atop the water's underworld,
All time and space constraints unfurl'd.
Sun o' yon morrow now arisin'
To claim what lies beyond horizon;
Schooled seafarer drew up a mind blank,
As earth fell flat walkin' the gangplank.
Astern swam ol' soul o' history;
Ahead held sol, breachin' mystery.
Sea gypsy caught by ray o' fire
Rode on heaven's burnin' desire.
Master o' the sky cried an "Ahoy!"
Mate now rides tide o' truth to enjoy.
Once upon a time, on a Tuesday... way back in November, I posted one of my poetic creations on Gather, entitled Once Upon A Time. This creation called out to me several times, as though directing me to "Do" something special with it. So, in need of a special creation for an upcoming event, I "Did" something...
One front adjustable clasp closure.
Main compartment has inside slip pocket.
Front panel has zipper compartment.
Adjustable 2" shoulder strap.
600 Denier Polyester
Size: 14 1/2" x 12" x 5"
The photo above does not do this Messenger Bag justice. So I do hope you'll have a closer look at it at my shop, where it is available for purchase..:-)
Let's teach our children about colors ... and a bit about friendship, too!
Who knows ... we may even learn a thing or two.
Picture Books (Saturday Writing Essential)
Len's Prompt Rules:
Write the text for a children’s picture book (prose, poetry, fiction, essay, whatever).
You must have only sixteen sentences.
Each sentence can have one to fifteen words.
You can have a word of three syllables in only four of the sentences.
You can have only one word of four syllables in the work.
There can be no words of more than four syllables.
Photo used in this creation courtesy of morgueFile.
I just cannot "do" Mother's Day;
Most don't understand why this I say.
My Mother is dead and I miss her so much,
Daily glimpses of her my soul does touch.
Her life was stolen from my siblings and me,
Domestic violence took her from us, you see.
My sisters have children unseen by our Mother;
Being held by one's Gramma is a feeling like no other.
Brothers share memories of Mom in a red cloud of danger;
A fist full of pain in their hearts is not a stranger.
I just cannot "do" Mother's Day;
Hope you understand why this I say.
My son is missing from this daily world o' mine,
Lost to drugs and for his heart I endlessly pine.
He wanders aimlessly in his world, dark and remote,
The fears and horrors of his past he continues to tote.
My hopes and dreams for my son, difficult to smother,
Live on in my soul and I pray he shall one day discover
A light to lead him along a path that will in the end
Allow him to feel the love of his Mother, also his friend.
I just cannot "do" Mother's Day;
Hope you understand why this I say.
My spirit is filled with sadness on this honored day
But I celebrate it daily, in my own special way.
And for those of you who miss a child or your mother
Know that you surely have the understanding of another.
My heart grieves for the loss of my mother and my son,
Yet deep inside I know the raging battle shall be won.
For I believe one day a light will shine from up above;
Mothers and their children will be reunited by His love.
I just cannot "do" Mother's Day;
Hope you understand why this I say.
I am delighted to announce that you are the WINNER of abitosunshine LOVE and WRITING's GRATITUDE GIVEAWAY! Scottie drew your name out o' his hat just a moment ago! You are the recipient of my CafePress abitosunshine poetic creation -- Journal of Thought, Word, and Deed!
Jennifer, you are ever so deserving of this win -- you are a WINNER! Your recent commitment to gratitude in your daily Gather posts are impressive and winning this gratitude journal seems like pure poetic justice to me!
Sometimes I feel as though I've been jugglin' time for a lifetime, how about you? I've learned a thing or two along the way, though; as I juggle mid work and play I must remember that I must do what I say -- just do it! All it takes is time ...
Accorcing to POETS.org, a pure Borrowed or Found poem consists exclusively of outside texts: the words of the poem remain as they were found, with few additions or omissions. Decisions of form, such as where to break a line, are left to the poet.
My Borrowed/Free Verse Poem/Social Commentary is written from various titles in the CONTENTS page of the book, Battered Wives, by Del Martin, 1976. I've omitted no words in the titles; I have rearranged the content titles, quoted them, and added punctuation. I have added as few words as possible; my added words are not in quotations. If the word "wife" or "wives" was used in the original content title, I have inserted the word "spouse" in its place and the author's use of "she" is changed to "she/he" as well.
"The Incidence of Domestic Violence"
"The Great American Family"
may consist of
"Spouse Abuse : The Skeleton in the Closet,"
and/or abuse of
"An Overview of Cruelty"
may tell us
"What Triggers the Batterer."
These triggers may include:
"The Economics of Marriage,"
"Class and Status Variables,"
"Histories of Violence and Occupational Hazards,"
"Drunkenness and Alcoholism,"
"Sterotyped Sex Roles,"
"Socialization and Sex Roles",
"Sexuality as Aggressiveness."
"The Victim -- Why Does She/He Stay?"
"Trapped by Fear!"
And there are
"Socially Determined Reasons."
These may include:
"Police Policy and Practice,"
which protect no one.
And, there is
"Social Services -- The Big Runaround!"
The lack of
"Public Financial Assistance,"
"Mental Health Services,"
"Police Training and Crisis Intervention,"
and lack of
all render the victim
"The Facts of Life"
Not much has changed since
wrote Battered Wives
I hike the high hills,
dark caverns, too,
step over fallen rock,
dodge and deal
strewn along the path.
Dog barks up ahead. Yes, I brought my friend. For without her... Harm may come once again.
She laps of -
I jump into -
the cooling water.
She trots alongside,
never leaving path.
She has known the chill
of my loneliness... I am grateful for this fact.
Back on the bank,
the crooked creek's edge,
thoughts dance among the dead.
A lick upon my face says, All is not lost; Never alone; Friend guards your back.
We climb the mount, slowly
reaching for the top.
The sun guides our footprints
upon the path we walk.
Strongest of the rays
points the way - Go around. Go through. Life awaits you two.
The top draws near,
we rest once more,
listen to the waterfall
flowing in the distance.
aimed for the heart.
I think... This must be where love got its start.
My gal disappears,
seemingly runs astray;
I hear yelps of glee,
leading me unto the light;
brighter as I go. This must be the pathway of the things I should know.
I feel the need
to rest a moment more,
on the dirt of the floor.
I feel the warmth
as I hold
the ground in my hand.
But time is ticking,
I tell myself, Rise.
in the clearing ahead,
waits for me to catch her,
stands her ground.
Her tail another voice,
it wags, Delighted!
Then it halts, Who goes there?
And it curls, Friend, not foe.
at the peak;
our world at our feet. Just me and my girl.
Today I wanted to take my Tidbit for a walk at Mount Pleasant, but, I didn't. I wanted to then write a gratitude/current for Shedding Light, but since I didn't go for the walk, I couldn't. Late tonight I saw an email from Kimberly Blackadar's Blog regarding today's Poetry Workshop. It seemed to fit perfectly with what I wanted to do.
The poem above is the result of her blog workshop. It began with a closed-eyes, fingers on the keyboard, mind walking with visuals, freewrite, which I share below...
I walk the hills
the caverns too
step over the rocks
avoid the mishaps
found along the path
a dog barks ahead
yws, i brought my friend
for without her harm
may come again
I jump right into
the cool of the waters
she jogs alongside, ne'er leavin' the path
for she has known
the chill of my loneliness
and i am grateful for this fact
back on the bank
of the crooked creek's edge
I sit, I rest, thoughts
dance among the dead
A lick upon my face
says all is not lost
never alone when a friend
guards your back
slowly we climb the mountain
reaching for the top
the sun guides each
footprint upon the path we walk
the strongest ray points the way
go around, go through
life awaits you too
the top seems nearer now
we rest once more
listen to the waterfall dropping in the distance
the sound travels
ike an arrow
straight to the heart
think this must be
where love got its start
my gal disappears
seemingly runs away
but i hear yelps of glee
she's leading the way
I follow the light
getting brighter as i go
this must be the way
of the things i should know
I feel the need to rest once more
settle myself on the the dirt of the floor
I feel the warmth when I hold
the ground in my hand
but time is tickin
so again i stand
my friend appears in the clearing ahead
waits til I catch her
then she runs on ahead
the tail it wags
then it halts and it curls
we stand at the peak
just me and my girl
This year I made up my mind I was going to apply myself to my love of writing with a passionate vengence. One way in which I've done this is by making the commitment to getting my shop, CafePress abitosunshine, up and running and profitable.
I've achieved my goal! Today, my profits have taken CafePress abitosunshine from a Basic (free) shop to a Premium (paid) shop. It's nice to know that my poetic creations are paying for themselves.
Of course, that means I must have more than just Attitude, I must display my Gratitude -- thank you! So, in honor of my customers and supporters, I've decided to announce my...
The GRATITUDE GIVEAWAY begins on April 11, 2010 and ends on April 30, 2010. Winner will be determined by random drawing, the lucky name to be drawn from the hat of my roommate, Scottie, on May 1, 2010 and will be announced the same day, here on my blog, abitosunshine LOVE and WRITING, as well as all other social networks I deem applicable.
There will be 1 lucky winner. Will it be you?
No purchase necessary to enter the GRATITUDE GIVEAWAY. However, here is how to qualify to get your name in the hat:
1...VISIT CafePress abitosunshine, then leave a comment on this GRATITUDE GIVEAWAY post telling me THE SPECIFIC NAME of my poetic creation you like best AND why!
EXAMPLE: I like the Orange Sunshine Framed Tile because it was my first poetic creation made available for purchase at my shop!
BONUS ~ get your name in the hat more than once!
AFTER completing the requirement above -- To qualify for additional entries, you may do any or all of the following, but you MUST leave an additional comment on this blog post for each thing you do, saying you have done so or already do:
(WWAUW writing prompt response; prompt courtesy of Dianna)
Write a letter to someone you love encouraging them to keep a journal and explain why you think it's so important to the ones they love.
Your every thought, your every feeling, holds importance to me.
More importantly, your thoughts and feelings are of value to you.
Keeping a record, a journal, of the thoughts and feelings you have each day can serve as a way of letting go, a way of healing. Writing, as well as re-reading what we write, is often a great tool for reflection. I encourage you to keep a record of daily events in your life and how you feel and react in relation to these events. I feel that not only would this serve to record, it may also serve to assist you to reflect upon the experiences, as well as your emotional response to what occurred. Hopefully, this would lead to greater understanding of yourself, as well as others, and ultimately, a greater understanding of your life.
Myself... over the course of my lifetime I've written my deepest and darkest thoughts in journals, diaries, and in my poetry and prose. Some have been written to later be burned; some have been written to be lost along life's way; some have been written to be shared; some have been written to be found upon my demise.
I'm about to begin a brand new journal of my thoughts. (Thanks to a gentle push from my friend Karen.) In fact, her encouragement has also caused me to create an empty journal book, available for purchase at CafePress abitosunshine. Karen mentioned on the phone the other day that her favorite of my poetic creations of late is one entitled "Whirlpool" and I realized it would make the perfect cover for a journal of thought and emotion. The verse is truly one that gives room for reflection and direction.
My son, it is, of course, my hope, that you may want one of my blank journals. And, of course, I'll happily purchase one from myself on your behalf -- if you ask me to do so. And, most importantly, I hope that you fill it with the dreams and desires of your heart.
Love: a strong positive emotion of regard and affection; any object of warm affection or devotion; get pleasure from
Writing: the activity of putting something in written form; the act of creating written works; the work of a writer
Passion: something that is desired intensely; strong feeling or emotion
Commitment: the act of binding yourself (intellectually or emotionally) to a course of action; the trait of sincere and steadfast fixity of purpose
Love and writing -- A Marriage Made in Heaven
I've been married, and divorced, more than once. I don't take marriage lightly, but sometimes no matter how hard we work at something, we appear to fail. Notice I said appear. For I don't believe that divorce is failure; I believe that some things come to an end because for whatever reason we no longer derive pleasure from that course of action. It is the course of action that has reached its demise.
In the past few years I've changed my course of action. I've united love and writing -- a perfect union -- one that I feel will lead me to fulfill many of my little girl dreams.
I have bound myself, intellectually and emotionally, to realizing my childhood dream of fame and fortune. I've made the committment to treat my writing, especially my poetic talent, as a God-given gift to be shared, and in so doing, the rewards are plentiful. With each new writing, my love becomes stronger and my rewards are greater -- a bit o' sunshine shared beams back at me. I've learned to behold the fame and fortune found in the warmth of each and every one of these sunbeams.
I have devoted myself to the passionate pursuit of happiness -- of others, thereby soaring the heights of my own happiness by shedding light upon another. I've learned there is no greater strength than that found in a ray of hope shared with someone else.
Will I marry again? I believe that I will, for I still believe in my little girl dream: I believe my White Knight rides the rays of the sun in search of his damsel. He'll be surprised to find that not only is his damsel not in distress, but that she is greatly blessed by the fruits of her labor in the union of her love and her writing.
Love and Writing awaits those who ride toward the spirit o' the sun wherein the marriage made in Heaven shall be won.
This blog began as a prompt challenge in Women With A Unique Word.