I received a missed phone call while I was out in the garden. I try not to take my phone outside with me for fear of a cascading pile of rich dirt that would inevitably fall on top of the expensive device. And with drops of cool liquid from the watering canister sneakily trying to fall on to the dark dirt in a mission to make mud, I figured that I should keep my phone inside. The call was from a dear friend who had followed the missed call with a text message. It was the habit of my generation, in this day and age, to leave an intended message in the form of a text rather than one’s voice.
I picked up the smartphone and clicked the button on the side which would illuminate the screen and read the message, Hey, how is everything? (more…)
There were no awards given out at some beautiful ceremony, or trophies sitting high on top of pillars with my name engraved in the gold colored metal—but, I did it. I finished another writing challenge, and now I have pages of poems that I actually like, and some of them I even feel pretty proud of.
The 31-day blogging challenge to write a poem a day for the month of October was probably one of the best things I could have done to dip my feet back into the pool of poetry and kick start my writing for the rest of the year.
OctPoWriMo, or October Poem Writing Month, different from NaPoWriMo, or National Poetry Writing Month, which takes place in the month of April, encourages participants to push themselves and their writing and to explore poetry for another month out of the year. (more…)
OctPoWriMo Day 28: If The Sun Never Rose Again
A dark heavy blanket lies over the land,
and the bright white lights that shine through its holes
never dim as time goes on.
The moon in the sky still pulls up waves over the sand,
and those waking now from sleep
wait for eternity until dawn.
No more warm rays of light.
The night never becomes day.
If the sun never rose again
we would all fade away.
OctPoWriMo Day 29: Writer’s Prompt – “Breathtaking”
A loud crash of boxes startles me and my heart skips a beat. I notice that the alarming sound has come from the closet that I used while I was in high school. No really one goes into my old room unless I’m visiting my friends and family in Bakersfield, so I’m curious to see what has disturbed my untouched room.
I walk over to the door and slowly slide the rolling door of my closet open and peek inside. As suspected two boxes has crashed onto the floor. However, they are not just any boxes. These worn shoes boxes that have been decorated with brightly colored paper and wrapping were my memory boxes filled to the brim with small knick-knacks and trinkets that represented moments that have passed long ago. (more…)