I am participating in 2012 National Poetry Month, [NaPoWriMo], albeit sporadically thus far. I’m spending my free time catching up this weekend. And hope to stay on top of things for the rest of the month.

It’s interesting, I’ve been writing the whole time, reading around and even leaving a comment here or there. Posting however, is giving me a bit of a challenge this year.

Work gets All My Attention

It likely has to do with my schedule. I have a very intense workload in my office. It keeps my focus because I really enjoy what I do. The drawback is that I don’t even have time to think about the prompts and the poems that come to me.

Sometimes for lunch, I’ll scribble down what I get but that is rare. And, even when I do get something, it takes much revising after I get home.

Volunteering takes Time

Then there is the time I spend away from home after work. I have meetings at my church for committees and for Bible Studies.

At home, I work for my church, keeping their web presence up to date.

I give my attention to these things because they make me happy, but they’re not all that I need to do.

Returning to Poetry

Writing poems is probably the most fun I have throughout my days. Not continuously but continually, ideas pop into my head, situations are turned sideways to reveal their rhythms. I capture them on paper when I’m really lucky. But many times I’m just grateful to glimpse them as they pass fleetingly across my mind.

So in the month April I endeavor to put this lifeline, this pure delight, back into the forefront of things. In being true to myself, I will complete this month on time, even if I have to play catch-up on the weekends.

All this I say to let you know that I am not out of the game. It still burns in me to complete the month. So, come back from time to time, and always know you’re welcome to leave me a message.

If you’re writing, post your link in the comments and I will visit your writing too. And if you want to read more poetry written in the month, check out Poetic Asides whose prompts I write to, and NaPoWriMo.net which is a collection of participating websites, (their links are in my sidebar).

Happy poeming and Happy Easter!

Dear Shari:
Please accept my
sincere apology.
Try as I might
I can’t seem to
cut him off
completely.

Remembering
all the ugly
hurtful things
pissed me off for a while.
Still, I wasn’t able
to catapult myself from that
through disgust
to I totally can’t stand him now.

With humility, I confess
love
is the only thing my
heart understands
to do to him.

Regretfully yours,
me.

©2012 Shari Lynne Smothers

Day 3 poem, an apology or non-apology for April PAD Challenge with Robert Lee Brewer.

One morning
he came, stayed
and was pure bliss.
Forever shone in his
bronzed countenance.
Nighttime came,
he left me
suddenly.

Once gone it
seemed only an instant
he was here with me.
Yet I measure
the strained passage
of time in meter,
rises and falls
of torrential emotions;
arguments skipped with
silence driving and cementing
the greatest wedge.

This new morning,
however many years hence
I wear hard-fought wisdom
fashioned from efforts
of trying to sustain
what wasn’t meant
with this
way wrong man.

This morning, I’m grateful he’s left me.

©2012 Shari Lynne Smothers

A Visitor Poem for Day 2 of the 2012 April PAD Challenge with Robert Lee Brewer

I hear clearly today
the truths only whispered
in years past. So quiet were they
until dismissing was all I did.

Now I’m informed by
the unfamiliar ache
seeming to be born
of nothing more than
morning waking;
the extended time needed
to heal from hurts that
once would be gone
before they made
any real impact.

Today I understand
I am older
and so gladly, if slowly
do act accordingly.

© 2012 Shari Lynne Smothers

A communication poem for April 1, with the April PAD with Robert Lee Brewer

Cold, stark, time bereft
of needs for shaping my life
according to me.

*****

Winter’s long short-fall
melts into spring, blossoming
possibilities ’round.

*****

Change not fast enough —
comes the feverish breaking
sweat to achieve now.

*****

This hunger
is outside beyond
need, we ache.

© 2012 Shari Lynne Smothers

Quiet pursuit of alone time
is continual in the crush and hurry
that is my life —
of necessity.
Covetous am I of even minuscule moments
presenting with nothing and no one
needing me.

Still, deviant to my solitary nature
an innocuous act with trivial impact
of connecting on social media
catapults me into being
now — forever —
part of something crowded,
much bigger than me
even in only my own company.

And in a not-quite-ironic way, I find I like that.

© 2012 Shari Lynne Smothers

Prompt: from 3 Word Wednesday’s words – deviant, minuscule, trivial

Coming

Touching the moment I realize
I’m aware not just awake;
morning dawns in my mind.
An alert announces in the wee
small hours.

What thought has summoned me
from my quiet slumber
is here to announce
change is on its way.

Stand fast, stand open
have faith
be encouraged
to sail through
the advancing
rushing
waters.

©2012 Shari Lynne Smothers

Time passes.
Nothing do I write.
Awaiting the unmarked
re-starting point
to vomit verses
that simply must
issue forth
no matter the cost
or company.

Today—lately—
I feel it coming on.
I’m pulling
away from
all the people things
that deluge me
ordinarily.

Making certain
I carve moments
to record;
Making certain I have
the pens and papers
to complement
my advancing machinations.

Nesting for me
is making ready
for the steady
stream of random
lines stanzas spaces
pressing forth to exit me
by way of
my willing fingers.

© 2012 Shari Lynne Smothers

I sit at my computer.
Familiar surroundings newly revisited.
I remember the bells I hear
ringing from the neighborhood church.
Chiming out
a familiar chant
my soul recalls effortlessly.
They herald a message
to any near enough to hear it,
though I take it personally.

I’m home. From wherever I’ve been,
for however long I remain,

I am welcome.

© 2011 Shari Lynne Smothers

The bells I can hear, ring at St. Peter Claver Catholic Church, in Treme, a largely African-American populated neighborhood in New Orleans, Louisiana.

It’s been a long week for me, getting adjusted to my new old city, my new digs. I’ve not written much in the way of my novel. I’ve made a few changes and settled upon a crime. Just working that out begs for minutes I can’t seem to string together.

It was a good week for learning what I will need to do and how some things will have to work. So, next week I can move forward productively, working through a text book of information compiled last week. Adding to my new Book of How as I go along.

I found some inspirations in the week I spent tooling around New Orleans, learning the new landscape, remembering my way around. All while I worked to stave off the aches and pains of moving that threatened to waylay me, seemingly permanently. I see buildings gone, new ones erected, schools closed down, slated to not return and I wonder why.

What formula are they using to say that Valena C. Jones Elementary School will not return? Quite likely, it’s of a demographic nature. And yet, however logical, ensconced in rationality and business savvy, it still stings a bit to see it gone for good after generations of family and friends passed through its halls.

My week ended with a funeral of a dear friend of the family, my parents’ friend. That ritual, familiar too. Sad definitely. But still so good to see old friends, many not seen since my dad’s funeral almost four years earlier. We had a little time to catch up before we’re apart again indefinitely.

My next weeks will be spent job searching and catching up. Family and friends I neglected excusing myself with having been away. Now’s my chance to re-connect before more go on in, as tomorrow is not promised to any of us — not them or me. And, I find I want people to know my heart before we part permanently.

I can’t say if this is prose poetry, if you’ll recognize it as such. However, this was my intent.

©2011 Shari Lynne Smothers

My eyes are closed
my mind alert
listening
for signs the sun
may have arrived
before me today.

Dammit.

Peeping out
from behind my lids
I find I won
again,
even though
I laid down my head
only just three hours ago.

© 2011 Shari Lynne Smothers

Site Find

I found this new site. Well, new to me, not new altogether. But I was excited by the find and wanted to share it.

The website is The Chamber! http://www.valentchamber.com/. The home page had an informative welcome message:

Welcome to the Chamber. An archive of fan fiction and original stories featuring women of color.

How did I end up Here?

Way back in April of this year, (three months ago), during some insomniac nights, I came across the fictional couples from “One Life to Live” [OLTL] on YouTube. I learned of:

1. Cristian and Layla
2. John and Evangeline
3. Cristian and Evangeline
4. Todd and Evangeline

They were great, flawed, funny couples and friends. Quickly, John and Evangeline became my favorite. But, I was drawn into each of them and others for different reasons. Still, several things got me down about these OLTL scenarios.

1. The inflexibility and inability of the show’s owners to go with things that work well
2. The crappy demise of John’s fitful relationship with Evangeline
3. The dogmatic intent to pair John and Natalie, easily the most banal, trite liaison on the show
4. Screwing with Todd and Evangeline’s friendship instead of nurturing it
5. The overarching use of African American characters as little more than transient tools

These are only my opinions informed by my personal interests and predilections. It occurred to me that OLTL isn’t wrong; I just don’t like the way the soap opera ran so many of it’s relationships into the ground—case in point, the Bo and Nora connection they kept getting wrong.

Notwithstanding that the John and Evangeline couple was built well (to Michael Malone’s credit), I wanted their ending to go differently. Or for them to not end at all. For me, that meant things in the good times might need to change to affect a different end.

So I started to work out scenarios I would use if I were writing this couple’s life. The Chamber came up during my search for insights into these characters, (on the off chance that OLTL would share details I wanted to know). Lucky me!

Hooked on the Site

It’s nice to find people doing what I wanted to do. They are rewriting stories or adding to them however they were creatively led. It’s a social site that’s a repository of contributed stories built around characters from TV, movies, and books, as well as completely original fiction. And, you don’t have to join to read the stories.

I saw what other people thought about the relationships and the pairings through their story lines (called ‘fan fiction’). I even found a story that put Evangeline with Jason, that’s One Life to Live and General Hospital.

One Story I Liked

One story I found included much of the sentiment I have for John and Evangeline and other characters in the show. At just over 30,000 words, it’s the length of a novella. And once I started, I couldn’t stop. I finished it Sunday night. The story I read is Promises by “destinysdiva” (pen-name).

Check out The Chamber if you enjoy this kind of fiction. I’m very much looking forward to reading more. Heck! I may even join and contribute—one day.

Cavaet

Heed the warnings. This site is not a porn promo site. There are no explicit nude pictures allowed. However, there is room for explicit sexual content and expletives in the stories posted. And, these guys are great enough to provide readers with a popup warning if you’re about to view a story that contains this kind of content.

Lately, every time I
pick up a pen
songs come to mind.
First lines that invite
joy sorrow love hope from
times I only vaguely
recall, memories long faded
leaving only the
resonating emotions.

Feelings betray me
pushing up random smiles
shoving out unexpected tears
pulling up old songs;
playing the familiar tunes in my head
to keep themselves awake.

I wish they were dormant
not mingling with my present
to at least allow me to
pretend to be peaceful.

© 2011 Shari Lynne Smothers

Process notes: First, old songs brought up old feelings and faded memories. Then I wondered about what it was exactly that brought me to the old music.

Can’t account for when they
assail me. Although,
I’ve noticed a pattern of
when I declare sleep will rule
it mockingly evades me
as if to say
whatever damned mocking thing
it says.

My worst nights are those
when I’m forced to lay there
mapping ceiling bumps
in the barely moonlit room,
listening for
shifting carpet fibers,
wondering if there are any
nocturnal bugs trekking through;
hearing the birds
scratching the awning
on their way
to some secret rendezvous.

All because I have
an important thing to do shortly.

My best nights are those
where I have no appointment
to face in a few hours.
I can get up and indulge
my lack of sleep with
YouTube, writing, reading,
Lego’s
not necessarily all or in that order.
Just whatever entertains me, things
that let me say, to sleep,
whatever damned snubbing thing
I can find to say.

© 2011 Shari Lynne Smothers

All the world is
far removed from me
much as I
want to touch it.
Vicariously only
can I engage just now,
from my hovel
through my window
into cyberspace.
I see what people
want to show
of the lives they lead.
Who’s killing, loving,
having a
Chernobyl meltdown;
mentally challenged brothers
get the book
thrown at them
while great villains,
not so much.
Political strife,
economic difficulty
moral bankruptcy
foreign governments
posture to save face.

Short of everything
and still properly sated,
I return
to myself disconnected
as the muck of the world
sloughs off me
settles to the floor
where I can sift through
to find
my poetical fodder.

© 2011 Shari Lynne Smothers