Pages from my notebook: A Few Haiku

I love the Haiku poetry form because they feel like mini mental puzzles (and I get to pick the skill level).

Here are a few of my own.

---

Challenge: Parenting

 My chosen duty
Learning, my double-edged sword
What am I doing?

---

Lightning Storm

Seconds-long vision
My silver lining appears
Still I am frightened

---

Before the Street Lights Come on

Let's go out and play
Any game, if together
We'll   make up our rules

---

Pages from my notebook: Love's Last Dance

My heart dances for you

Always quick-stepping over arguments,
Only to waltz right back into them.
Your interpretive style drives me wild.
Still, I find myself  dizzy,
Tangoing through the tangles
Between my love and lust for you

You and me, always seen as the perfect pair

Our footwork always battling to take lead
Occasionally causing you crushed toes
Often leaving me with a crushed ego
Now there's no way I can promenade around this square any more
I must finally draw the line
Putting you behind me,
As I back it up  & out of this relationship

♥Reesie

  

(Note: Prompted to write an "un-love" poem, I enjoyed taking my pen to the dance floor for this piece.)

Pages from my notebook: A Series of Unlikely Explanations

"Bright blue skies appear before me
But not as far as the eye can see,
Rather its entire existence, even down to color
Depending on how far drawn my wax crayon-equipped hand can reach
Left at the mercy of a flick of my wrist
To suddenly becoming a purple sunrise to a green sunset

Under this sky grows a rooted miracle,
The fruit it bears still leaves it type undetermined:
A banana, above an orange, next to an apple, under a lime, across from a kiwi.
A crop completely customized to my taste buds liking
Revealing its true ideal image.

Yet even my mastery of such feats,
Taking control of the sky's appearance
Inventing biological impossibilities through trees;
Still I have yet to unlock the mysteries of seeing through invisibility.
Based on what everyone keeps telling me,
No matter how I look at it, I only see 1 parent instead of 2

And that's what it all means to me."

Smiled the child finishing in front of his class.
Taking his picture and his seat,
Eagerly waiting to see who would be next for show-and-tell.

♥Reesie

Pages from my notebook: (Untitled)

On your marks…

Bowed head, closed eyes

Exhales of a last prayer

Displaying faith from devotional practices

As each runner takes the mark behind the lines

Get set…

Raised eyes, revved spirits

A sea of voices roar excited anticipation

Stands of fans ready to witness an 8-lane miracle

8 sets of ears muted to the futile praises

8 sets of eyes focused on an ending destination

8 muscle-armored bodies contracted in preparation  

For crossing the present heat-infused 100-meter hell

Visualizing staying on path without singeing their soles

The sudden thunderous fire of the cap gun

Cracks the consciousness of 8 meditating minds

Racing thoughts are overtaken by actions

Mental detonators triggering 

Signal-relaying nerves surging

Jolting idle legs to life

Rhythmic heartbeats sync to speeding footsteps

Battling for every invisible milliseconds

Completely oblivious of the physical competition on either side

Adrenaline-propelled charges break barriers into victory

Now at the end of their race

Tears of sweat reflect the devotion of the 8 believers

Waiting with worn bodies and weary hearts

Preparing for the final judgment

Determined by numbers on a single stopwatch

♥Reesie

30/30 Challenge: Completed

Who did it?
Yours truly - I did it!

What did I do?
I wrote 30 poems in 30 days.

When & where did I do it?
I wrote throughout the month of April 2013, through a mixture of writing in my notebook, personal laptop and any location that provided additional motivation.

How did I do it?
Through a lot of self-determination mixed with my competitive spirit by nature (plus an undeniable and irreplaceable amount of support from my family and friends).

Why did I do it?
 That right there is the million dollar question - that may be answered best in stages.

When first deciding to take on such a challenge, my greatest obstacle was finding my way over my own doubts - Can I even write 30 poems? However, thanks to an optimistic upbringing that revealed the possibility of what said to be impossibilities, I was quickly able to overcome this obstacle.  With that choice, I began my 30/30 journey.

Energized with the excitements of exploring new territories, I started my poetic goal off with a bang - literally, with a first piece about a track race.  I used this adrenaline rush to the fullest extent as I began to jot out poem after poem (some prompted and some not) for my first week and half.  While at the time I really loved the learning experiences of new poetic formats and resources that I was quickly obtaining, I also began to feel the weight of my extremely high-demand workload and equally attention-starved home.  I was soon stretching myself between these many responsibilities and left feeling quite fatigued with a new lingering doubt - Will I have enough time/energy to write 30 poems? Finding a healthy balance of my different roles was quickly achieved through a few schedule adjustments and once more silencing my doubts. Soon my 30/30 journey was back on track.

Progression came and went as the days passed, and before I knew it I had made it to my third week and a once invisible finish line started to take shape. It was here on my journey that I began to examine my writing with a much different set of standards than how I started.  By this time, my exposure to new poetic styles and formats also included many new poets and poems.  As hard as I wanted to keep myself from comparing these to my own, it still happened, and I once more hit a discouraging obstacle - Why would anyone want to read my poems?  Whether it is true or not, I don't believe I would have had the same outcome today if it had not been for the support and encouragement that I received at these times.  Tired, focused & humbled, I pushed myself forward onto the last leg of my journey.

Here I am today, completely elated in conquering such a feat; hungry to continue to feed my reawakened learning spirit; and inspired to continue to work and transform my dreams into my realities as a writer.

This experienced has given me unimaginable memories, priceless teachings and limitless expectations for the next level my writing and I will soar.


In the meantime, I will post some of the jewels that I discovered over the past month.

Happy writing!

♥Reesie

My 30/30: Day 2

Mourning Devastation

A solemn sunrise greets her to the dawn of her mourning
Her, the lone survivor
A single shadow creeping out bed to the table
Upon which sits the box of her beloved’s remains

A ring only tarnished by the broken promises it now represents
Memories sewn together with past conversations
Locked in the threads of the over-sized cotton tee
Smiling photo albums now mocking her despair and grief

Less than a 24-hour had lapsed since his departure
Yet his presence still just as present as ever
Muted lips still whispering his name
Forgetful fingertips still reaching to caress him
Unforgiving eye still replaying his final exit scene on repeat
Closed ears now hearing only the warnings to prevent such demise

He asked her, “Tell me the truth”
Deafened by the sound of his request
Her hesitation became her paralysis
Delayed seconds bending the laws of time
Searching at light-year speeds for a response
Through the crevices of her mind
A sudden awareness that sliced through logic & reason
Finding this atom-splitting realization
Because the truth is
She told him, “I’d rather lie to you”

A dresser mirror’s reflection the sole witness to the next events
Reconstructing the images immediately proceeding this verbal bomb’s descent
Mushroom-clouded emotions exploding through out the room
Heated tempers radiating at hazardous levels
Causing furniture to tremble in the immediate vicinity
Until finally he could take more and prepared to leave
Accepting his defeat from her deceit
Future damage to both was stopped by his choice to concede

Now left with only a box of his remains
Living within the same 4 walls that will never be the same
And her sanity left in the balance of one rhetorical question:
She asked herself, “Truthfully speaking, was it worth it?”

♥ Reesie

Taking on my first 30/30

Discipline...Perseverance...Dedication

All attributes I would often attribute to myself in my thoughts and rarely take the initiative to demonstrate through my actions. After many years of successfully getting by with mediocre efforts and socially-acceptable feigned expressions/commitments, the ease of justifying why it is best to avoid any opportunities to do otherwise became mere child's play.

So of course the rumor of the near approaching 30/30 for the month of April seemed only the perfect thing that could easily be entertained in conversations a flash of a smile and the response, "sure, why not give it a shot - it should be fun." Then entered the 30/30 a towering challenge that stood with the words, "Discipline," "Perseverance," and "Dedication" scribed into it's foundation.  30 poems in 30 days - a simple task, no big deal, anyone could do that...or not.  My excited anticipations soon changed keys to a more somber sound as doubtful thoughts began to sing throughout my mind.


"Who would care if you did complete this challenge"
"What makes you qualified for this challenge?"
"When are you going to give-up on this idea already?"
 "Where do you get the confidence to take on this challenge"
 "Why bother giving an effort?"

Maybe I may have bitten off more than I can chew with this specific goal - however I rather choke on overindulging as I work to achieve this goal rather than starve on the underdeveloped habits of wishing for the outcomes I want. So I guess the proof will be in the next 30-days pudding.

Summary:
This April 2013, I have decided to take on the 30/30 challenge of writing 30 poems in 30 days. Snapshots of my progress on this journey will be added through some of my daily pieces to this blog.

Well, wish me luck and enjoy!

♥ Reesie

Connections (Extra-Short Story)

The crisp Austin breeze of the mid-March evening air was filled with
notes, conversations and good vibes as one of the many concerts came
to an end at SXSW*. Only to soon be disrupted by a sudden yell,

“Hey GiGi!”

Greg found himself frozen; completely unable to exit the stage after
just finishing up his last set for the evening. That’s when he heard
the shell-shocking familiar childhood nickname suddenly being screamed
from a very unfamiliar female voice. As he slowly turned to unveil
this mystery, his mind raced through his mental rolodex of people from
the past 21 years – desperately scanning the handful of aunts, cousins
and close friends who could possibly resurrect this name he personally
laid to rest many years ago.

He watched as she made her way through the sea of his departing
audience to the stage, this 19-year-old girl with an energetically
waving hand and a brilliant smile. Greg found something familiar about
the steadily approaching face.  If only that face could give him a
name to go with it. Still left with nothing and now face to face with
this person, he resorted to returning the smile with his own perfectly
crafted smile that every aspiring singer needs, especially at a time
such as this.

“You’re not fooling me with that fake smile, Gi – don’t tell me you
really don’t remember me,” she immediately replied to his
industry-ready smurk, “It’s me, Gina.”

“No way, Gina,” he exclaimed as his smile illuminated brighter with a
glowing reconnection to the childhood friend's name he hadn’t
spoken in years.

“How have you been? How is your family? What have you been up to over
the years? When did you grow-up so much?”

Even with all of these questions rummaging through his head all he
managed to get out was,

“So what brings you to SXSW*?”

She explained how she dragged a couple of her friends from college
into coming with her to get a change of scene. Greg watched amazed
that the attractive, vintage v-neck tee-shirt and jeans wearing young
lady before him now was the same Gina, the tomboy neighbor who helped
him start his first garage band, from 8 years ago.

“I was surprised to see your name on a flyer when we got here and
decided to check out your band,” she said interrupting his thoughts
with her charming smile, “You guys sound great; so it looks like at
least one of us from our backyard band really made it after all.”

“It was a garage band,” he corrected.

“Right, good to see that those good looks and that great voice haven’t
changed that near OCD stickler for details I knew growing,” she
laughed, “Same old GiGi.”

 “Maybe, maybe not; the band and I were getting ready to check out
some parties, would you like to join us?” he asked.

She replied that she needed to catch up with her friends before doing
anything else. After extending the invitation to the rest of her
party, they quickly exchanged phone numbers with a promise to
reconnect later that night as they separated for the second time in
their lives.

A week later, finishing up his routine practice, Greg was surprised
by an unexpected text message:

Greg, it was great seeing you again.  Believe it or not, when I
saw you on stage I saw the same star I had first recognized years ago 
in our garages.  I wish you the best on your musical endeavors, 
and hope to hear from you soon.
-Gina

Many hours later, Greg had still yet to reply to such a simple message.
The ambiguity in each words' meaning that even smartphones struggle
to convey, left Greg with a mixture of thoughts and emotions.
He felt a sudden excitement, not sure whether sparked by the thought of
reinforcing a childhood bond or possibly creating a new mature connection
between the two adults, Gina and himself had developed into over the
years. He finally began to type his reply.
Either way, time would tell.

♥ Reesie 

------------

Prompt: Use this line as the last line: Either way, time would tell.

Note: 

*SXSW - South by Southwest; an annual, internationally recognized
music, new media and film conference held in Austin, TX.

Word Count: 693

2/23/13 - Houston VIP Writing Workshop

Prompt:

Write about the cliché you hate the most (without using pronouns)

Serving a sentence on charges now forgotten

Beauty still remains in the eye of the beholder

Imprisoned in solitary confinement with only a dilated pupil size window

To view the once defining, now freely roaming sights, sounds aromas, taste & feelings

Aesthetic treasures waiting to be discovered or lost

Left to chance by sight's judgmental eye

Visualize how much more outside would become beautiful

If determined with a different feature rather than the eyes

If 4 sense can become heighten in the absence of a solo sense is true

How do the remaining 4 survive when only a single preference is present?

Society seems to take every opportunity to optimize on the  optical

With daily delivered eye examinations

Placing subconscious corrective lens over in individual's eyes

Through television ads, billboards, magazines and web pages

All designed to skew the perception of even the most unbiased of minds

Guidance

Handed a needless moral compass
A map with plenty of locations but no destinations
And a backpack filled with exaggerated expectations - without any explanations
Children today are learning to function and survive
In a society that's hungrily waiting to eat them alive

At a time when proper preparation is at an all time minimum
Their actions, the media only displays the sin in them
Discipline no longer able to take root and grow inside of a child
Because parents' powers have become confused and compromised
Leaving child development as a targeted territory listed for demolition
How so

9-5's, sunsets to sunrise, double-shifts, triple-shifts, all stacked up with overtime
Quickly reducing 24-hours in each day
Just to make sure the bills stay caught up
Having mothers & fathers sacrificing their honor & respect
Just so long as their children can get more from life than how they were brought up
Not to forget a vanishing generation filled with pearls of wisdom & treasure-troves of truths hidden in plain sight
Only to be seen for their age and dismissed with ease
Because suddenly children stop listening to grandma & grandpa's words
Too blinded by the need for validation in education systems and papered degrees
And losing sight of the true definition of character

Still many choose to watch and wonder why our children aimless wonder everywhere they go
Now, our children are reaching critical points daily, all based off of lies & truths
And often left alone to decide on which side they choose
That's why I'll continue to grab & grasp for as many of their hands willing to reach out
And pray everyday that my grip will always remain just as tight
Before this society's appetite can be satisfied with another child's life

♥ Reesie

2/16/13 - Write Club (Short Story)

Prompt:

Take one historical event (personal, national, global, etc.) and rewrite the event in a way you would not want it to happen.

An evening of indoor camping begins to wind down for 3 sisters as they watch their marshmallow-thoughts of princesses and other Disney themes toasted on the televised fireside. Blankets and pillows spread across the carpeted terrain as the 3 prepared to star-gaze into slumber. At that same time their father begins to drift further away from sleep with a sudden urge for night fishing; a pastime he remembers filled with baited hooks and cast pick-up lines, where the mystery of each catch was only disclosed by the moonlight. His thoughts grew deeper with the night as he looked at his 3 daughters; his most prized catches from his last recent fishing episode and he wondered what his rod and lures could still allure and what other great catches remained to be caught by his cast. At this point he knew this current camp sight was inadequate for any kind of night fishing and he would not be satisfied until he found the perfect fishing sight for his daughters to share with him the new outcomes, parental structures and possible half-siblings that awaited the end of his fishing line.

That night a second set of eyes had also been keeping a monitoring eye over the 3 resting campers, their mother, who had been lying among them and noticed the shift in her fishing-piqued husband's attention. Although not knowing the exact cause for the shift, she offered the thought that he should take a stroll outside the campgrounds to help clear his head and release some of his restless energy. While offered innocently, the offer was received with animosity. Who was she to stop him from fishing? Now provoked and determined, the youngest daughter soon found herself rubbing her sleepy eyes in her father's arms with the other 2 girls' names being called to get ready for a night-fishing venture. Still dazed, the girls protested in childish whines, despite the slight temptation of the assumed ideal camping activity, night fishing.

Nevertheless, sparked interests were no match for the fatigue and fear each of the 3 had for leaving their mother alone. Their mother, who quickly sensed her daughters' discomforts, suggested that their father take tonight to sleep and reschedule the fishing trip when the girls were better prepared.

"No, the girls are coming with me," was his only protest.

Unfazed she answered, "Well tonight they will not be leaving my sight."

Just as she knew this man's hot temper, he also knew the stubbornness of the woman before him and the truth behind her words. He soon thought a rescheduled trip was not such a bad idea. In a brief moment of clarity, both parents saw the high-noon standoff they had just formed in front of a once again sleeping audience. Each released a small chuckle at the sight that just occurred as they all prepared for bed.

The 3 sisters soon found themselves greeted by the morning sun from their beds and discovered that everyone had returned home.

♥ Reesie

Passion

A spark of eye contact is all it takes
To ignite a growing flame
Into a fire so strong it leaves you speechless
Not because of a lack for words
They're just not needed

As you approach
Your hesitations melting away with every step
Because like a moth, nothing will stop you from being drawn in
You have to have her

But before you continue, be warned
Take heed if you choose to proceed
Because she's to have a reputation for greed
A greed that will leave you sleepless at nights
She'll use every ounce of your energy to fulfill her needs

Yet this weakened state is nothing compared, to what she gives in return;
Her hugs are able to nourish the most insatiable  hungers
Her kisses have the power to rejuvenate
Absorbing all exhaustion and transforming it back into renewable energy

Your interactions with her seem obsessive
Where your actions fall more into her possession
So bewitched, forgetting to even ask her name

She is Passion

♥ Reesie ♥

P.O.V. - Child

You tell him to be still, for just one minute
But he doesn't understand why he should waste even 60 seconds of his life, if not to live it (in motion)
That's why you'll catch him dancing, from parking lots to playgrounds, far & wide
And when there's no music around
He feels his own heart drumming out a contagious beat
Tickling his nerves with sensations
That forces him to move his feet
And every step suddenly becomes my life's choreography
And he wonders how you can still be standing still?

You call him nosy
Because to you his questions just seem excessive
But the way he sees it 
He's a genius trapped inside of his own mind
Filled with innovations, knowledge & potentials bubbling up within
Locked up tight, waiting to be freed
And the answers you provide him are his only keys
So why wouldn't you share them with him
And why did your own questions come to a stop?

You tell him to stop crying
Before you give him something to cry about
But his tears are the proof that he has already found it
They are the only things he has to fully express the overwhelming emotions he feels
But fails to express, because he just doesn't know the words for them yet
Whether caused by sadness, anger, fear or confusion
He always feels relief when he feels his eyes release these tears to fall freely down his cheeks
Because he silently understands that there's no healthy way to bottle it all up inside
So how is it that your eyes always stay so dry?

You often tell him "Don't" "Stop" & "No"
And call his actions disobedient & defiant
But all he hears are your attempts to give my life new limits
That's why his rebel actions are his last hope
That he might remind you that no one's a slave to old tradition & ways
That there's always freedom in making a choice to change

This entire he has come to know
At only the age of 5 years old
Yet you tell him, he still has so much growing up to do
But from the way he sees it...so do you

♥ Reesie ♥ 
Written: 6/18/12

First Steps

First steps seem to always be the most anticipated and soon forgotten, except for the few photos & videos that capture these cherished moments. Whether these steps are perfectly-timed or just awkward stumbles, one thing is certain, they are unavoidable.  

That said these first pieces create the perfect starting place for what is to come. These early writings reveal the amateur yet freeing release discovered just from picking up a pen. Discipline, dedication and sharpened skills are the ultimate purpose for this collection.

Although a little fun, entertainment & growth shared in the process wouldn't hurt either...

Enjoy!

♥ Reesie ♥

Sweet & Nice

Most have heard the nursery rhyme:

Sugar & spice - and everything nice

That’s what little girls are made of …right?

I admit I was guilty of being one the girls following along

Pretending my life to a children’s song

Check any of my yearbooks

Ask anyone about me, and I guarantee you'd find

My name and two simple adjectives

Following closely behind…

Sweet & Nice

I’d hear that and smile

Feeling like I had it all figured out –

I was so proud

Because…Sugar & Spice - and everything nice

That’s what little girls are made of…right?

Early in my years

I found it so easy

To perpetrate this image to my peers

If anyone I knew was feeling down

I was known for having a smile

& an encouraging word near

And other times when they just needed to vent

My shoulder was always cleared

Along w/ a listening ear

Yet, at that same time,

I also learned how to bury my own fears

(To mask over my face, to conceal my own tears)

And so on rolled the years

With me desperately searching for life's comfort

Through a single thought…                                                                                                                                                                                                                      

I am Sweet & Nice…

And…

Sugar & Spice - and everything nice

That’s what little girls are made of…right?

 Wrong

 This had to stop

I had to really take some time to and see

What was really being said by these words

I so easily let speak for me

 

So, let’s be honest

Sweet is most often used to talk about cookies, cakes & other dessert

Treats always good (only in the moment)

But as soon one too many bites are consumed

You're only left with a “sweet” regret

So if being a sweet person is no more equal than the description of a pastry 

Why did I ever enjoy being compared to something so flaky?

As for nice,

I went straight to the word’s very definition

Oxford had nothing but kind words to tell

But I guess that’s just his good nature

As for Webster, he was polite about it but in the end he was just too virtuous for me to understand

How could actions & behaviors

That should be our human nature

Ever get cheapen & diminished,

To such a weak 4-letter description?

Sugar & Spice – and everything nice

That’s all I’m made of…that can’t be right

I quickly learned the true strength of a heart when it’s left all alone

When life suddenly melts sugary walls and the spices aromas are all gone.

Once 2 words I thought complemented my every action

And always covered my faults with the perfect excuse

Were actually just 2 words that I used for a passively-aggressive ego boost

So now I’m done with using such meaningless words too describe my meaningful life

How about instead: Integrity & truths

Living my life to create new realities to show you,

That’s what I’m made of

♥ Reesie ♥
Written: 12/14/10

An Introuction

I am…
I am a love educator, taking my time and every ounce of being to perfect my lesson.

Reconstructing the destruction of the ill teachings of so many before me to return the beauty and divinity of a gift that God alone could only have structured in Heaven above.
So now it’s my turn to redefine and show what unconditional love really means, without all the fears and restraints. 
I’m taking this risk to love unreserved and have faith that all pains that may come on this journey are able to be healed by the original creator…
For I am just a humbled Love Educator

I am…
I am the truth reaper, taking on all forms of ignorance and lies, despite the shape or the size. 
I make victims of them all, leaving only two survivors, new truths and stupidity, in the path of my demise. 
 Ignorance is no longer an excuse when I make my presence known.  
 My target is set and I have no time for the fakers…

For I am a focused Truth Reaper 

I am…
I am the world changer, with an outcome set beyond your imagination.
I act out what others just wonder
I speak into being what others make plans for
I live a life that most only dream.
I make my choices with certainty and clarity that often gets dismissed as being too naive or pure over-simplicity.   
I know that change is inevitable and growth is a choice, and as I continue to reshape this world to my likings all I can do is rejoice…

For I am right now the World Changer

♥ Reesie ♥

Written: 12/1/09