creative writing

NPM 2025 (The End of the Priest)

/ Janna Hill / Leave a comment

Well &#¥+ !

Between the garden and the grandkids I have completely neglected NPM. tsk tsk tsk

I must somehow set aside a bit of quality time for National Poetry Month in days remaining. I just must! Maybe I’ll set an alarm for that too. I only have fifty-gillion to five-gazillion alarms already.

So today I said to myself, “self you need to read one and post one.” Of course that won’t catch me up. So I read Too Much Pain by Donna Ashworth. And for a post I went willy-nilly and typed “22” into one of my files and this is what popped up.

Some people do the same thing when looking for a bible verse to inspire/guide/comfort and swear that fate will always give you an appropriate response.

I’m just over here going hmmm.

Taken from Getting Me Back (the voices within)
Getting Me Back

Happy reading & writing. Now y’all go read or write something poetic.

Write on!

NPM 2025 (Full Moon and Little Frieda)

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It was NPM 2014 when I first shared Ted’s poem about his daughter. In that post the husband and I had another enjoyable conversation about the tragedies that surrounded the man.

You should give it a read.

But now I present to you….

Full Moon and Little Frieda

By Ted Hughes

A cool small evening shrunk to a dog bark and the clank of a bucket –
And you listening.
A spider’s web, tense for the dew’s touch.
A pail lifted, still and brimming – mirror
To tempt a first star to a tremor.

Cows are going home in the lane there, looping the hedges with their warm
wreaths of breath –
A dark river of blood, many boulders,
Balancing unspilled milk.
‘Moon!’ you cry suddenly, ‘Moon! Moon!’

The moon has stepped back like an artist gazing amazed at a work
That points at him amazed.

Ole Teddy published a book of prose and poetry to his first wife [and first wife to die by suicide] in Birthday Letters not long before his demise.

Lord, help me not judge. I have lived a less than stellar life, my own poetry is evidence.

Write On!!

NPM 2025 (Edge)

/ Janna Hill / Leave a comment

I can hardly believe that I first shared Edge by Sylvia Plath in April 2013.

It seems like yesterday and a lifetime ago at the same time.

I honestly enjoyed revisiting the discussion and dissection of Edge and poor Sylvia Plath. You should give it a read.

Meanwhile I present to you…

Edge by Sylvia Plath 1963

The woman is perfected.
Her dead 

Body wears the smile of accomplishment,

The illusion of a Greek necessity

Flows in the scrolls of her toga,
Her bare

Feet seem to be saying:
We have come so far, it is over.

Each dead child coiled, a white serpent,
One at each little

Pitcher of milk, now empty.
She has folded

Them back into her body as petals
Of a rose close when the garden

Stiffens and odors bleed
From the sweet, deep throats of the night flower.

The moon has nothing to be sad about,
Staring from her hood of bone.

She is used to this sort of thing.
Her blacks crackle and drag.

Sylvia Plath Hughes with her second child, son Nicholas.

NPM 2025 (Why Poetry)

/ Janna Hill / Leave a comment

Welcome to April. Welcome to NPM (National Poetry Month) and welcome to my home.

Well, my blog home. Feel free to hang out, have a drink & peruse the smorgasbord.

Heck, feel free to shoot me a line and/or a link to your favorite poem or poet. Old or new- I love `em all.

I don’t know if I should feel bad that I’m a week behind in getting started with NPM.

Shoot I run behind on a lot of things in my old age.

And since being electrocuted a year and a half ago… well I ain’t been quite right.

I’m laughing at myself a little. Not because of electrocuting myself but because I use it as an excuse sometimes.

The truth is I have never been quite right. 🤣

Anywho, I digress.

As I was saying, it is National Poetry Month. To kick it off I’ll share a tiny poem and the cover reveal for Getting Me Back.

The new cover has only updated on the ebook. We’re running into delays on the print.

New cover reveal. Ta-da!

Why Poetry?

Because It hurts deeper, tastes sweeter, laughs louder, and lets me know I’m alive.

Happy New Life (Spring is Here)

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I like to believe…

I like to believe that the spring equinox marks the actual New Year. It just makes more sense with all of the new life and new activities going on in nature.

I believe we can find the same newness within ourselves if we let nature guide us.

So cheers 🥂!! Here’s to new life, new growth, and a happy HaPpY new year.

P. S. Speaking of new … I have new book covers in the works. I’m kinda looking forward to these new creations.

Winter Solstice (The Long Long Night)

/ Janna Hill / 2 Comments

Here in the northern hemisphere today is the winter solstice, the first day of winter, aka midwinter. It is reportedly the shortest day of the year hence the longest night.

It is also that time of year I routinely share this bit of poetry with you all.

Torn from the pages of Getting Me Back ( The Voices Within)

Keep your hearts warm my friends. Brighter days await.

Greed

/ Janna Hill / Leave a comment

This page is from the story of August Wolf which is also found in the short story compilation Greed.

You know what? I just love the cover of August Wolf.

My fondness is not because I designed it; I also designed the different covers of Greed. I just never really loved any of the Greed covers. 🤷🏼‍♀️

And another little tell-all this fine Tuesday…. drum roll please…

The main character in August Wolf, Jason Carroll, was named after my parents. After all I couldn’t reveal the orderly’s true identity. Putting one of us in danger was enough.

What does A Face in the Falls, August Wolf and The Sharecropper’s Son have in common?

These stories reveal the perplexities, the strengths and the weakness of people that are true to life and like life these stories expose the innate greed present in mankind.

“There is more in you of good than you know, child of the kindly West. Some courage and some wisdom, blended in measure. If more of us valued food and cheer and song above hoarded gold, it would be a merrier world.”

― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Hobbit

Autumn Equinox 2024

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Summer Adieu

It’s out of the flip-flops, and back in the Reeboks and long pants dug out of the dust

So long to the tank tops, bikinis and cut offs and lawn chairs left lying to rust

Adieu to the sand dune, the pelican and plain loon

My loves, we’ll see you `fore long

Leaves drop as trees swoon, long past the crop moon

With the scent of a sweet autumn song

Let’s all take a big swill to ward off the night chill

Winter’s a season away

Crank up the camp fire; avoid the ole quagmire

With children perched high on the hay.

Poem from Getting Me Back

More about the Autumn Equinox at Farmers Almanac

Little Rascals (Tuesday’s Tell-All)

/ Janna Hill / Leave a comment
Mine’s on the right. Who’d have guessed.

I love this photo for so many reasons. I wonder what those little boys are thinking? What one said that created such an expression in the others.

My 5th grandson started playing baseball this year. He, like my other grandsons, is a rascal on the field and off.

The photo made me think of my other grandsons (their ages range from 10 months to 22 years) and some of the things they discuss/discussed.

I imagine right about now I have a grin like the little guy in the picture as I remember how I busied myself, pretending to be unaware while they talked.

Their conversations ranged from bugs to books and dinosaurs and bikes. Rocks and clouds and robots. …

When the older boys discussions evolved to automobiles and girls I busied myself out of hearing range.

And just for clarification, I don’t consider it eavesdropping if I’m in your presence.