Tag Archives: literature

Oh, Moses

(Poem 32 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

AI Generated image I prompted on Gencraft.com https://gencraft.ai/p/upYIM6

Oh, Moses, what have you done?
Your grudge against Egypt has
bound an entire people to stone,
made monsters of the very images
they destroyed out of fear, and
made them guilty of the blood of
their brothers of other mothers.

Poor Moses, torn between
the people of your birth
and your adopted culture,
millions have endured
the weight of your words.

Dear, Moses, the generation of
Jubilee is upon us, our freedom
established by the edicts written
in the blood of every life lost
in the name of inheritance,
promised land, birthright,
Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.

No, Moses, no longer do the
grievous burdens chain us to your
commands and dictates.
We are newborn.
We are released from bondage.
We are free.

@Home Studio – 32nd poem of the year

Lesson 2 from The Way of the Wizard

(Poem 18 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

“You will know your own innocence again when you can see the love that breathes within every iota of creation.” -Deepak Chopra The Way of the Wizard    

AI Generated image I prompted on Gencraft.com https://gencraft.ai/p/epXhfI

Arthur could not see
his own reflection
in the clear water pond
and was afraid to confess
as much to Merlin.
I thought of him today
and the lesson he was
taught in response to
the wonderful news
that a lack of self-image
is a sign of innocence.

To gaze peacefully out
my sliding glass door
is an act of creation,
for the observer plants
the seed of life by
noticing, recalling,
becoming invested in,
and growing to love
the deer who stand
munching, daring the
dogs to bark, antlers
high in defiance,
the squirrels chittering
angrily as they race along
the fence top, provoking
growls and menace,
the birds who nest,
the possums who hide,
the mice who find
their way inside,
the skunks who waddle
around in the dark,
magical beasts who
sparkle with newness
if only we clean our
lenses, witness them afresh,
and listen for the faintest
of songs sung by them all
called, “Behold yourself.”

@Home Studio – 18th poem of the year

Chopra, Deepak. The Way of the Wizard: Twenty Spiritual Lessons for Creating the Life You Want. New York, United States of America, Harmony Books, 1995, pp. 23-28.

Runner ups for the AI cosmic oneness photos to accompany my poem:

A Duke By Any Other Name

(Poem 17 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

“To those contending with chronic intermittent infirmity.” – A Duke By Any Other Name book dedication

A duke by any other name
might well be a beggar
or find himself locked away
in Bedlam whether sane or no.

A lady of questionable upbringing
is as good as ruined
by too much enthusiasm
or too little interest in finery.

Heaven forbid the two
take an interest in each other’s
worlds, dictums of society be
flouted and customs ignored.

Only truth can heal old wounds,
restore families long separated
by fear of shame, and bring
peace to hurting hearts.

@Home Studio after finishing the book A Duke By Any Other Name by Grace Burrowes – 17th poem of the year

Burrowes, Grace. A Duke By Any Other Name, Forever, NY, 2020.

Sor Juana of the Spanish Golden Age

(Poem 15 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

AI Generated image I prompted on Gencraft.com https://gencraft.ai/p/GVmKE6

Sor Juana of the Spanish Golden Age
refused to see through rose-colored glasses.
She says she preferred, with words on the page,
a different view from all the masses.

With both of her eyes in both of her hands,
she would rather her vision be by touch,
than live life lost in nonsensical lands
created by imagination’s crutch.

But optimism was filtered through green
instead of rose when that great lady lived.
The color of aloe, basil, and trees;

nature’s youth, death’s only alternative.
Her sight was such that she must have foreseen
more colors than anyone could forgive.

@ Home Studio after reading “Sonnet 152” by Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz translated by Edith Grossman -15th poem of the year.

Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz – Selected Works. Translated by Edith
  Grossman, W.W. Norton and Company, New York, 2014,
  pp. 64.

Runner ups for the AI Sor Juana blind rose-colored glasses photos to accompany my poem:

And a few more because they turned out so pretty:

Sor Juana was a feminist nun intellect writer (etc.) who lived from 1651-1695 and is often called the 10th Muse of Mexico. I am reading a book of her writings currently that has been translated into English. I was struck by “Sonnet 152” and the imagery used in her time of green hues rather than rose-colored glasses as the tint of false optimism we recognize currently. I happen to like my glasses quite rose-colored, thank you very much, but I get what she’s saying, especially since she lived in a time when women were much more oppressed. Her criticism of misogyny led to her censure by the church and confiscation of her possessions including over 4,000 books, musical instruments, scientific equipment, etc. She died a year later of the plague.

Lesson 1 from The Way of the Wizard

(Poem 13 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

“…every living thing is the entire universe, only wearing a different disguise.” -Merlin, Deepak Chopra’s The Way of the Wizard

AI Generated image I prompted on Gencraft.com
https://gencraft.ai/p/sDIotX

What room for silence
when preferences clamor
for precedence
and feelings battle one
another to reign?

The mind asserts its
dominance by forcing
rejection of other,
delineating you versus me
and they versus we.

How can peace seep
into our spirit crevasses
unless the outside
splits open to release
it from within?

Until we listen to
the inner voice crying
out, “Find me,” 
we will never realize,
“All this is myself.”

@Home Studio – 13th poem of the year

Chopra, Deepak. The Way of the Wizard: Twenty Spiritual Lessons for
  Creating the Life You Want. New York, United States of America,
  Harmony Books, 1995, pp. 19-21.

Runner ups for the AI cosmic oneness photos to accompany my poem:

Shacks Who Shriek

Shacks who shriek, spiders who skate,
werewolves teach, moons deflate.
Scheming rat and wild dog howl,
soul-sucking beasts, murder most foul.

If what you fear most is simply fear,
the time-turned solution is plain and clear.
Face the truths that make you quake,
be it darkness or heights, failure or snake.

Retrace your steps past trauma and pain –
executioner’s blade, monsters on a train.
Save yourself with the strength you find.
Be your own hero; leave the past behind.

Stand up to the demon who threatens joy,
be it anger, depression, the urge to destroy.
The time-turned solution is plain and clear
if what you fear most is simply fear.

Tonight I watched Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban with friends. The twists and turns are quite complex in this story line, but all converge to elucidate themes of facing fear, unmasking the truth, and fighting for justice for the wrongly accused. It is very well done and inspires poetry for me when I watch it.

The Wand Chooses the Wizard

I have always wondered why Hermione was placed in Gryffindor. She is clearly a Ravenclaw. Then I started thinking about the fact that I am Ravenclaw despite wishing to be Hufflepuff. The sorting hat must have known she needed Harry and Ron more than other smarty-pants people surrounding her. There are the people we are, the people we want to be, and the people we can become given the right influences and circumstances.

I let this blogsite get cancelled a while back because I did not have available funds to pay for it. Thankfully, when I was able to return, my information and domain name were still available. I was not so lucky with my other publishing website. I have to start over from scratch on that one.

But I feel okay about it all. A fresh start might give me a fresh perspective and kick me into gear with my self-publishing journey once again. It is NanoWrimo time and I have a great novel idea. I have moved to a a multi-generational home and quit teaching. I am focusing on my health and now have more time and energy to devote to my passions.

Would I have expected to be here if anyone had asked me a decade ago? Absolutely not. I could not have planned to be sorted into the family or house I am currently enjoying. Nor could I have foreseen the two ladies with whom I would be sitting here watching Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone. I found them through a chain of events I did not orchestrate.

Perhaps things come to us when and if the time is right if we are open to their arrival. We have to put in the footwork and be willing to accept the call, but maybe forces beyond our control are working on our behalf. I know it sounds a little woo-woo, especially when things are not going smoothly in life. And I may not feel this way when the next storm hits. However, it feels nice to think my wand has chosen me, that great things are in store, and just the right friends and family are by my side to battle the darkness.

Last Day of Summer Break

(Photo by David Mao on Unsplash)

I have had a wonderful summer of healing from hip replacement surgery, finishing my Master’s degree in English and Creative Writing, taking long restful naps, and sipping tea while I immerse myself in story.

Tomorrow I return to work sharing my passion for the written word with others as an English Literary Arts and Reading teacher to secondary students (grades 6-12.) My goal this school year is to foster a classroom that encourages both reading and writing as methods of discovery, escape, healing, and growth. Whether the students decide to join me on this journey is another story. I will share weekly moments of triumph and failure as the year unfolds. This will be my 23rd year in education, but my first year of approaching the subject matter in this way. I am excited about the opportunity to try something new.

Wish my students and me luck! It should be quite the adventure.

Descent Book Review

I read the novel Descent on a whim at the recommendation of a coworker and a student in one of my summer classes.  It was a page-turner to rival the likes of James Patterson.  What I wasn’t expecting was the surprisingly intricate prose.  I was reminded of F. Scott Fitzgerald.

The subject matter was dark, but written gorgeously. While on vacation in the mountains, a teenage girl goes on a run with her younger brother following on a bike for protection.  Disastrously, the brother is injured and the girl is kidnapped.  This is not too much of a spoiler since it occurs in the first few pages of the novel.  The rest of the book is varying accounts told from the perspectives of each family member (and others) spanning several years of searching for the girl, dealing with life without her, and hoping she’s still alive.

The characters are well-developed and each of their motivations, fears, and doubts is picked apart like clues at a crime scene.  Several themes that stood out for me were the ways in which we cope with tragedy, the power of survival instinct, and the lengths we go to for those we love.

Some of the scenes were too intense, gruesome, and mature for children.  One brutal rape scene in particular is much too graphic to be allowed in my psych facility school library.    But that intensity is part of what made the book hard to put down.

This DESCENT into depravity is paired with breathtaking views of snow-capped mountains, deep ravines, and forests.  Whether by escape, rescue, or death, the reader needs resolution of some kind, any kind, which makes the book impossible to put down.