Snippets of Creative Writing

Snippets of Creative Writing

I’m getting behind on posting our

snippets of creative writing.

It’s because I’m so tired from editing

my first i-movie from the poem

After An April Rain,

The photo of the napping Buddha is in the movie

I hope it’ll soon be up in the Video Bar (above)

It has sound effects!!

Water, thunder, rain, crickets and birds!

Also, I’m impassioned, right now,

I mean--

stirred up emotionally,

 in turmoil

with sad feelings & consternation.

It’s all being resolved, thank goodness,

by putting it in a new song:

I Wish I Could’ve Been There.

Turning to my Keyboard

is better than

booze, sex, Jesus, or rock & roll!

The music has a swingy banjo rhythm

like Cat Stevens’ music.

(more about it later when it’s finally recorded)

So, now, I’ve already forgotten what reading

our words came from last week,

but I did write them down!

offering, satisfaction, attached, listen, magenta, floor

She wrote:

the offering was simple

a magenta flower

cupped in small hands

eyes locked on the

linoleum floor

I touched her wrist

and she trembled

in her worn cotton

“Listen, your Daddy’s singing”

she tilted her head

as she watched 

the blossoms

float from her fingers.

~~~

I wrote:

She lay on the floor listening

to their hushed voices outside --

her sister Margie and Jake

coming home from the Prom.

Jake’s murmur of fear and satisfaction,

and a startled, “Oh!”

Was he offering her an engagement ring?

Would he take her away -- this sister

to whom she was so attached?

~ ~ ~

And this week she read from 

Maya Angelou’s Inaugural Poem,

On The Pulse Of Morning:

We’d both watched the Inauguration

that morning-- from different states, 

-- different states indeed, in 1992 --

She’d gone out and bought a copy.

I’d read it the next Fourth of July in church.

driving, personal, bliss, courtly, verge, out

I wrote:

He left such a personal message

on my garbled answering machine.

Personal, yet courtly, it seemed--

something about

the bliss he’d felt

when we were driving out

to the lake . . . and how

he was on the verge of something . . .

~ ~ ~

She wrote:

bliss sat very still

on the verge, the edge,

the precipice

of going home

a personal choice

no driving need

but, in or out?

she did not know.

~ ~ ~

A hosta blossom from the garden

 to end with,

like a yummy dessert!

stay tuned . . .

~ ~ ~