Hello (I Do Not Love You)

I took this photo last night. It’s not the best photo of a starry sky but not too shabby for an iPhone either.

Well we mixed things up a little bit this year. We are skipping Christmas celebrations entirely and roadtripping instead.

There are a few that will miss having the traditional country Christmas at the Hill house and I regret that. But, our friend/family unit is large so I know they will still have a happy Christmas; at least I pray they do.

As for myself I need this for a number of reasons. I think it will be good for the hubby too.

You know it is not healthy to stew in your own miseries. God did not intend for us to be unhappy but… somehow we find misery. Misery might not even have us on her radar but we’ll jump up, waving like a fool yelling, “Yo, misery, here I am. You forgot about me.” Yep, we are a sottish lot!

So now, my spirit and my flesh feel distressed along the hatefulness of winter approaching…. I don’t love it. It worsens the feeling of despair.

The harshness. The coldness. The dying of everything around me…

Misery and Winter are soul sisters and all I have to say to either of them is, “I do not love you. Either of you! So f*<k off!!”

Sooo, instead of stewing in all the woes I cannot fix I talked to God, said my prayers and then… I said fuck it.

I know that word offends some people- it use to offend me too. Now…

I say it a lot. Fuck it.

Thank God my mother cannot hear me.

Ahhh. With all of that out of the way let me share a bit of poetry that has become a tradition for the winter solstice.

Torn from the pages of GettingMe Back (The Voices Within) my poetic biography in a sense
Ther latest cover

Keep an eye out for misery and do not invite her in. Guard your hearts, keep them warm my friends. Brighter days await.

Mull it Over Monday (A Poem & A Picture)

We are going to mIx iT uP this final week of NMP. Today (Monday) let’s take a look at Poet Dreaming by Loretta Diane Walker and mull it over.

Mull it. Ha! That sounds like a fish or a bad haircut.

Tsk!Tsk! Ignore the clown behind me and clear your mind.

poet dreaming A poem &amp; A Picture

Poet Dreaming

By Loretta Diane Walker

(Originally found at Poetry Breakfast)

No sky could hold so much light.

—Mary Oliver

Poems are nomads paddling through darkness

collecting words from the arms

of Orion, Sagittarius, and Perseus

before camping in a poet’s dream.

She sees souls as colliding galaxies,

holes of light burning

with millions to trillions of stars

too bright to fit in the cavity of sky.

 

Those stars are poems

crammed in the dusty envelopes of mortal bodies,

shimmering beneath white ribbons of bone.

A silhouette of stars floats in the window of her eye.

The energy of need forces tiny hands to brush

against the small wings of a sigh hovering in the evening.

 

She hears the silhouette speak

in a voice the timbre of a piccolo,

“Look Mommy! I caught a butterfly.”

On the other side of her dream, she sees the light of joy,

and a moth beating its powdery gray life

in the basket of a child’s palms.

From In This House published by Blue Light Press.

Now let us ponder…

I was immediately captivated by the first line poems are nomads paddling through darkness. I could literally perceive souls as colliding galaxies and got lost in the poetry until I felt like Loretta Diane Walker pressed me [unwilling] into a mortal body and awakened me to the wonder of a child’s voice. I regret I do not have a better photograph to compliment the imagery of the poem. I even added stars among the fireworks in this picture but it does not suffice… Oh well. In short, Poet Dreaming was a relatable piece and by golly I liked it! As a matter of fact I heard a little bird say I will be getting a copy of In This House for Mother’s Day.

I wrote some poetry once Getting Me Back (The Voices Within)