Throw Back Thursday or TBT

The Long Long Night #TBT

/ Janna Hill / Leave a comment

Ah, the December Solstice.

Those of you in the Southern Hemisphere are (hopefully) enjoying summer while us folks in the Northern Hemisphere are entering winter and the longest night of the year. 

Though it is the Northern influence that spawned The Long Long Night, I wish you all a happy December solstice and warm poetic evening.

so without further adieu I give to you …

The Long Long Night

He would sculpt and I would write to get us through this thing called life – what seemed to be an aimless plight

The long, long night

I used pen and he used clay to cope with all the pain filled days which lived within our slow decay of

The long, long night

But in between the words and mud we found the art of making love and pacified the angst and blood of

The long, long night

Forsaken pages ripped and torn, spattered earth across the floor, graphite tales of love and war and

The long, long night

Come into my bed sweet angry lover, your tender calloused hands beneath the cover.

Find the place where none has been, beneath the ink and turning pin, get us through yet once again

The long, long night

The Long Long Night was torn from the pages of Getting Me Back ( The Voices Within) available at your favorite eBook retailer.

LIFE BEHIND THE RAILROAD ( #TBT )

/ Janna Hill / Leave a comment

I have been doing a lot of reflecting these past couple of weeks. Convalescents affords me that luxury; and let me tell you all of life feels like a luxury- a new lease on life.

If you follow me on TikTok you know I survived being electrocuted late last month. The after effects are a pain and still manifesting. Still, I am sooo grateful to be on the topside of the soil.

Anywho, I thought I would share some of my reflecting with this poem from Getting Me Back.

A little aside: My last visit to the old place was about twenty years ago. It was one of those random stops; my youngest son was in high school and we were on our way home from a dental appointment.

I said, “Hey you wanna see where I lived once as a child?”

Being the adventurous soul that he is he said, “sure!”

So, without further adieu, here you go.

For illustration to feed your imagination only XoXo

🖤~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~🖤

Life behind the railroad tracks

We called home a wooden shack

Lulled to sleep by passing trains

A tattered roof deterred the rains

Chilling winds crept through the walls

Carrying echoes of coyote calls

Two to three in every bed

With coats and quilts to cover our heads

Winter’s cruelty calmed us none

We unfurled early to meet the sun

Neither ice nor snow could hold us back

In hopeless times we crossed that track

Coon hunts and rat kills, boy we had fun

Don’t think it strange, it’s just what we done

June bugs and fireflies, the games that they sparked

Freeze tag and chase we played in the dark

We watched the train as it come and it go

The height of intrigue was to see a hobo


My life was carefree, the world a front door

I wasn’t concerned about being so poor

Our laughs outweighed most of the pains

Life came and went just like the trains


I sometimes reflect on that little old shack

And life behind the railroad track

Laughter rings over a muted cry

With a smile in my heart and a tear in my eye


No times are not tough but times are not fair

We done what we must to get here from there

For ice nor snow could hold us back

In hopeless times we crossed that track.

  • True story. Forney Texas 1970 something

Poem from Getting Me Back (The Voices Within)

About the Author ( #TBT )

/ Janna Hill / Leave a comment

1998 About the Author was literally the bio I picked for my first book of poetry Pose Prose & Poems (My Thoughts Exactly)

Ahhh I was so naïve. In hindsight even my most sinister & darkest moments at that time were no more than a cloudy day.

I was cursed with curiosity

Blessed with being poor

The fifth of seven children

Who could ask for more?

More fun than one should want for

More fights than one could win

More plates than food to go on

Yet I’d do it all again.

A SPECIAL THANKS TO all who have touched my life and allowed me into theirs. Remember, light casts a shadow, so stand in the light.

Remembering Princess Leia (#TBT)

/ Janna Hill / 2 Comments

I was thinking of Leia today. She was a dog my daughter rescued from euthanasia & left with us on the farm.

Her crime? I’m not sure other than being an undesirable white shepherd; a black sheep that sullied the breeding pool.

Leia was oftentimes mistaken for a husky because of her beautiful icy blue eyes. I never cared, I simply thought she was beautiful.

We could never make her understand the boundaries of the 10 acre farm – she felt sure it extended to a half mile radius.

Finding the photo of a book cover with her (playing the part of Gus) left me a little nostalgic.

It’s oddly amazing how animals touch our lives. …Our hearts.

In loving memory of Princess Leia.

I’ll see you in the clouds one day.

Disturbed Affections (TBT)

/ Janna Hill / Leave a comment

It’s hard to believe this compilation was published in 2015.

My how time drags when you’re standing still.

Three short stories. Two deranged love affairs.

Available at your favorite ebook store.

Oh, and Happy New Year.

XoXo

Read an eBook Week #Tbt

/ Janna Hill / Leave a comment

Ah I vaguely recall my start as an independent writer; it almost seems like a lifetime ago.

I can’t even remember how I found [the oddly named] Smashwords, but I am glad we connected. Mark Coker’s publishing platform really simplified my life.

And then Draft2Digital with Books2Read came along with their pretty little layouts and boom I had a new crush. And a new distributor.

But I never left Smashwords.

By the way, it is true Smashwords and Draft2Digital are merging and I think that’s a good thing.

I’m not sure if Smashword’s support of the annual Read an eBook will continue in the years to come, but it is going on right now through March 12th. I, of course, am participating. Several of my books are available free or at a drastically reduced price. Just scroll through and check it out.

I believe The Perpetual Series was the first, or one of the first books I published with Smashwords; that was in 2013. Can you believe that?

I recall making the cover from a photograph I had taken of a flower blooming in the yard. Sadly, that flower never returned.

… that flower and so many other things.

Sigh

Happy Thursday Y’all. XoXo

Saint Patrick’s Day (Throw Back Thursday)

/ Janna Hill / Leave a comment

Here’s a little something from 2015.

And ya know what? I think I understand now what that old man was talking about.

About those Snakes…

An old man once told me, “Saint Patrick ran the snakes out of Ireland and now they rule the world.”

I am not 100% certain as to what that means but I do reflect on it every year.

In the mean time…

Saint Patty's Day Card

A Little More Time

/ Janna Hill / Leave a comment

Hi y’all 🙋🏼‍♀️

My apologies for not blogging more but I have seriously been busy. I’m talking BiZZy!

We are just getting the house back to normal after February’s winter storm, Uri. I’m not sure why it’s (unofficially) referred to as Uri? 🧐

I did a web search and unless I overlooked a reasonable definition-I found nothing that applied to the ice storm. Feel free to educate me.

Anywho we are getting back to normal. Haller-lu-ya!!

[doing the happy dance]

So before I get busy this morning getting the yard and pond back in shape I will leave you with a #TBT.

A Little More Time was written in 1980 something, originally published in Pose Prose & Poems in 1998 and republished in the 2017 poetic memoir called Getting Me Back

A Little More Time

There’s an eagle out there soaring And my best friend is out whoring

Turning tricks of any kind

Doing anything to make a dime God forgive her for the crime

All she needs is a little more time.

On the roof three stories high

A junky cries and begs to die

Ain’t had a fix in several days Swears he can’t go on this way

Across the street a church bell chimes

Grant us please a little more time.

An old man sick and dying

Alone with no one crying

He grieves for all the pain he’s caused

For all the people that he’s lost

Outside the window painted mimes All rushing for a little more time

A woman labors down the hall

Her anguish echoes through the wall

But soon a laughter takes its place When she looks upon the baby’s face

For a moment all is sublime

As we are given a little more time

Never out of Season (Throw Back Thursday)

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Dissing or Discussing Poetry

First published Feb 1, 2018 JANNA HILL

We are still months away from NPM and poetry discussions are abuzz. I love it!

I’m not even upset that one “genre” is dissing the other – I am just happy poetry is being discussed.

I clicked on a link/interview that was shared with a member of the Horror Writer’s Association and then BOOM I was knee deep in reading, searching and lurking a dozen other sites.

I [honestly] never considered a genre when writing poetry and probably couldn’t categorize if my life depended on it. But [speaking of dissing] I’ll share Thoughts on Writing from Getting Me Back.

Except from Getting Me Back (The Voices Within)

Thoughts on Writing  (The Requirements of an Author)

Desire: A congenital need to tell the story.

Determination: It is not enough to walk a couple of blocks or run five miles on a treadmill, come prepared to hike the Himalayas and explore the abyss.

An exoskeleton: A thick skin will not suffice — no indeed. Colleagues and critics are apt in the sadistic art of shaving and burning the thickest of flesh; their tireless wheel of pumice leaving the toughest callouses raw and bleeding. They will thin your skin; get beneath it and prove your vulnerabilities. Like a flesh eating bacteria they will consume you — kill you if you let them.

A poker face: Never let them see you sweat.

Gratitude: Because no one owes you anything!

Grace: For the rise and the inevitable fall.

Pills and booze and smoke: Because it is a hard and hateful world and you are not a god-damned ant.