My Journey Continues
By Candace Shultz
Imagine
that you
are eating your
favorite cookies and there's
only one left. Now imagine
that you've been running a marathon
and you've just crossed the finish line.
The dismay. The exhilaration! That's me right now.
Some days my feet dragged me down the hallway
into my bedroom and to my desk where I dilly-dallied
on the internet until an hour before bed. Then I'd stare
at the blank screen and the blinking cursor with a blank face
and blank mind until I made myself actually write something, anything. I'd listen
to the hum of my computer as I scrambled for a mix of words
that would fit a picture of my life into a frame. Not perfect. Just me.
Other days I'd hurry to my desk, words and phrases just fighting to be released,
to be heard. Whether pen and paper or keyboard and computer, my creativity craved
an outlet. Ideas and words overflowed my mind. My muse was throwing a
party and everyone was invited. I just had to weed out the
people I didn't like. I need more days like that: days
of inspiration, days of creativity, and days where I've rediscovered
my passion for the written word. My written words.
National Poetry Month has come to an end.
I ate the last cookie. I finished
the race. The best part? I
now have thirty new poems.
Whether good or bad,
it doesn't matter.
My journey
continues.
Tuesday, April 30, 2013
Monday, April 29, 2013
I am a Mother and I Love to Read
I had trouble coming up with ideas today, so I searched for poetry prompts and found the "I AM" prompt. I've actually done this prompt before (I can't remember if it was in high school or college), but I want to do it again because life changes so much through the years. Click on this link for reference to the "I AM" poetry prompt.
I am a mother and I love to read.
I wonder what my life would be like if I were another person.
I hear the voices of strangers who know me.
I see tigers in my past, present, and future.
I want to be content in my own body.
I am a mother and I love to read.
I pretend to be a giant stuffed caterpillar giving kisses to my giggling baby.
I feel her arms around my neck and her sloppy kisses on my cheek.
I touch my husband's hands as he holds me in my sleep.
I am a Mother and I Love to Read
By Candace Shultz
I wonder what my life would be like if I were another person.
I hear the voices of strangers who know me.
I see tigers in my past, present, and future.
I want to be content in my own body.
I am a mother and I love to read.
I pretend to be a giant stuffed caterpillar giving kisses to my giggling baby.
I feel her arms around my neck and her sloppy kisses on my cheek.
I touch my husband's hands as he holds me in my sleep.
I worry every time my baby falls.
I cry when my husband has to leave on deployment.
I am a mother and I love to read.
I understand that no one is perfect.
I say that God is real.
I dream of becoming a published writer.
I try to clean the house, I really do.
I hope that I don't screw up my daughter.
I am a mother and I love to read.
I cry when my husband has to leave on deployment.
I am a mother and I love to read.
I understand that no one is perfect.
I say that God is real.
I dream of becoming a published writer.
I try to clean the house, I really do.
I hope that I don't screw up my daughter.
I am a mother and I love to read.
Here is the poem I wrote years ago based on this same prompt.
“I Am”
I am a young woman reaching my
ink-stained fingertips to touch a lonely, bright star in the soft,
dark sky.
I am worried, yet carefree.
I wonder if my grandfather looks down
on me from heaven, his eyes bright with encouragement.
I hear the soft whispering of delicate
leaves as the wind tickles the trees.
I see a horse running through the trees
towards freedom.
I want to run my fingers along the
rough, ancient buildings of Italy and to sink my toes in the sandy
beach.
I am a young woman reaching my
ink-stained fingertips to touch a lonely, bright star in the soft,
dark sky.
I pretend that the world is beautiful
without horrors and pain.
I feel that everyone has hope and can
achieve their dreams.
I touch puffy clouds that disappear in
my hand.
I worry about everything.
I cry when I lose a friend.
I am a young woman reaching my
ink-stained fingertips to touch a lonely, bright star in the soft,
dark sky.
I understand that life is not fair.
I say that we should not give up
anyway.
I dream that I am happy in my future.
I try to do the best that I can do.
I hope that my smile and kindness
affects at least one person who will then give happiness to others.
I am a young woman reaching my
ink-stained fingertips to touch a lonely, bright star in the soft,
dark sky.
Sunday, April 28, 2013
Meow Like a Cat, Cry Like a Baby
Meow Like a Cat, Cry Like a Baby
By Candace Shultz
My baby behaves like that.
She "paws" at the window screen
Scratches at the door
Wiggles when you shake her treats
Crawls on the floor
She cries when she wants some foodIgnores you when you say her name
Stands up to reach her toys
See? They're just the same.
She'll play with a box or string
Instead of her own toy
And if you turn the vacuum on
She'll run from all the noise
Sometimes she'll play peek-a-boo
And she'll nibble on my hair
But if you have something to do
She'll make sure to be right there
It's just so funny to see the similarity
Between a cat and my cute little baby.
Saturday, April 27, 2013
All in a Day's Work
All in a Day's Work
By Candace Shultz
There are so many things I need to do.
Here, I've listed just a few:
Clean the dishes, wash some clothes,
Trim the nails on my toes,
Scrub the bathroom, log receipts,
Clean my desk, wash the sheets,
Sweep and mop every floor,
Go to the grocery store,
Pay the bills, visit the library,
Then after dinner, I'll exercise maybe.
But instead of doing all my chores,
I'm improving my Angry Birds' scores.
By Candace Shultz
There are so many things I need to do.
Here, I've listed just a few:
Clean the dishes, wash some clothes,
Trim the nails on my toes,
Scrub the bathroom, log receipts,
Clean my desk, wash the sheets,
Sweep and mop every floor,
Go to the grocery store,
Pay the bills, visit the library,
Then after dinner, I'll exercise maybe.
But instead of doing all my chores,
I'm improving my Angry Birds' scores.
Friday, April 26, 2013
BINGO
BINGO
By Candace Shultz
By Candace Shultz
B is for the beginning when I'm excited to play the game.
I is for the ink that's used to daub circles on my cards.
N is for all the numbers called that match all of mine.
G is for my giddiness as I get closer to the win.
O is for having one number left when someone else calls bingo.
Thursday, April 25, 2013
Ghosts in My Shower
I woke up to the
sound of the shower running,
but no one was there.
When I was a teenager, I woke up in the middle of the night and heard the shower running, but when I went to the bathroom, no one was in the shower. I checked all the rooms and everyone was sleeping. Spooky. Even spookier? The owner who lived there before us was an old lady who died in the bathtub.
Wednesday, April 24, 2013
A Mother's Reality
A Mother's Reality
By Candace Shultz
When you fall down and
hit your head, I want to cry
with you, but I don't.
Guilt eats at my heart that I
couldn't protect you from pain.
I can't protect you
from everything, but I can
keep calm and comfort
you. I can hug you and kiss
you and distract you with games.
I'd do anything
to take away your sorrow.
I am your mother.
Your pain is my pain, but I
will be strong for both of us.
Tuesday, April 23, 2013
One Fine Spring Day
One Fine Spring Day
By Candace Shultz
We stroll through the town
Under the shade of the blooming trees.
We gaze at the flowers
As we enjoy the warmth of the sun.
A gentle breeze flows through my hair
And tickles my noise with fragrant blossoms.
I smile and sigh and sneeze.
Then I sneeze and sneeze and sneeze.
My eyes start to burn.
My throat begins to itch.
My nose drips and drips.
And I sneeze and sneeze and sneeze.
Monday, April 22, 2013
This Isn't a Poem
This Isn't a Poem
By Candace Shultz
I'm not writing a poem today.
You can't make me. No way!
I will run, and I will play,
But I won't write a poem, no matter what you say.
The playground is calling my name
Where all the kids are playing a game.
But school is making life so lame.
I'm stuck inside, and you're to blame.
I didn't do my homework,
So you went berserk,
And now there you lurk
At your desk waiting for my masterwork.
Now I'm really getting bored
As I look toward
The window at my horde
Of friends. I'm really feeling ignored.
Well, maybe I'll admit
That perhaps I shouldn't omit
My homework, but only if you'll permit
Me to go outside to do my skit.
Here's my poem. Yes, it's true.
I wrote this poem all for you.
I hope you'll forgive me for my few
Misdeeds. Now I bid you adieu.
Sunday, April 21, 2013
Saturday, April 20, 2013
Sleeping like a Baby
Sleeping like a Baby
By Candace Shultz
Let her go,
This I know,
But still I want to see
What's wrong with my baby.
Let her cry.
Ten minutes go by,
And still she's not sleeping,
So now I'll take a peep in.
She looks at me as I walk in,
Then she pulls to standing.
I check her diaper, sing a song,
And lay her down. Then not too long,
She's fast asleep again.
Friday, April 19, 2013
Just Keep Running
I've been dieting lately to lose all the weight I gained during pregnancy. It's hard work to eat less and exercise more. Sometimes I feel great about myself and what I've accomplished so far. I lost 12 pounds in 6 weeks. Other times I just feel so hungry that I can only think about the negative things: I gained a pound back in the last three weeks because I got off track on my diet and exercise. So today I wrote a poem about my struggle with diet and exercise.
Just Keep Running
By Candace Shultz
I listen to my stomach growl
And try to ignore the pain,
But everything entices me
To just eat and eat and eat.
Eat that bag of Doritos,
Eat that chocolate bar,
Eat that slice of pizza,
Just enjoy them all.
Some days I give in.
Other days I am strong,
But thinking about food all day
Just seems so wrong.
Then I try to exercise to burn off all that weight,
But sometimes I have to fight myself
To put down my book or game.
Why do something tedious
When I can relax instead?
Other times, I run and run and run and run,
Yet I still don't get too far.
All that exercise means nothing
If I still don't lose the weight.
So goodbye to all that yummy food
And all that extra free time.
I must ignore the grumbling
And get up from the couch.
I'll run and run and run and run
And hope to feel fit in time.
Thursday, April 18, 2013
Death, He Welcomes Me
As I thought about what to write today, a line popped into my head: I looked in the mirror and Death stared back at me. From that line, this poem just unfolded itself into its current form.
Death, He Welcomes Me
Death, He Welcomes Me
By Candace Shultz
As a child,
I climbed a tree and Death climbed up with me.
I swam in the ocean and Death swam after me.
I rode my bike down a hill and Death rode close behind.
I climbed a tree and Death climbed up with me.
I swam in the ocean and Death swam after me.
I rode my bike down a hill and Death rode close behind.
As a teenager,
I drove a car and Death sat next to me.
I went to a party and Death was holding a beer.
I laughed in the face of danger and Death laughed back at me.
I drove a car and Death sat next to me.
I went to a party and Death was holding a beer.
I laughed in the face of danger and Death laughed back at me.
As an adult,
I kept myself busy with work, family, and friends,
But even though I tried to forget him, Death would lurk around.
I'd look in the mirror and find Death staring back at me.
Now that I'm older,
I watch my grandchildren as I rock in my chair and Death sits by my side.
I smile at all my family and Death reaches for my hand.
I close my eyes and see my old friend Death as he welcomes me.
Wednesday, April 17, 2013
A Than Bauk Poem - A Dieter's Failure
Today the poem technique I used is Than Bauk. You can find some information here. Basically, there are three lines with four syllables each. Each line should have a rhyme, but instead of rhyming at the end you rhyme on the fourth syllable of the first line, third syllable of the second line, and second syllable of the last line.
A Dieter's Failure
By Candace Shultz
It's true that I
have failed my goal
to. . . Pie! Oh yum!
Tuesday, April 16, 2013
Lack of Inspiration
Inspiration will
not come to me today, so
this is all you get.
At least it's a haiku!
Monday, April 15, 2013
Snowball Technique
The following poem is a snowball, another OULIPO technique, in which each line has one word and each word has one extra letter than the previous line. I like this technique, but it becomes much harder as you add on the letters. You can go to this link to learn more about the snowball technique.
I
do
not
know
peace.
Sneaky,
gradual
measures
destroyed
everything.
Hatemongers
masterminded
destituteness,
depravednesses,
destructiveness.
I
do
not
know
peace.
Sneaky,
gradual
measures
destroyed
everything.
Hatemongers
masterminded
destituteness,
depravednesses,
destructiveness.
Sunday, April 14, 2013
The Roadstead Not Taken - An N+7 Poem
I like to try new poetry forms sometimes. I found a poetic technique called OULIPO that combines mathematics and poetry. More specifically, I used the N+7 rule in which you use a poem already created and change each of the nouns in that poem with a noun that's seven nouns away in a dictionary. I decided to use Robert Frost's poem The Road Not Taken. I referenced the 2006 version of Merriam-Webster's Dictionary and Thesaurus.
The Roadstead Not Taken
By Candace Shultz
Two roadsteads diverged in a yellow woodcraft,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one travesty, long I stood
And looked down onrush as far as I could
To where it bent in the underproduction;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better clamshell
Because it was grassy and wanted weathering,
Though as for that the past there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morpheme equally lay
In league no stepparent had trodden blackbird.
Oh, I marked the first sergeant for another daylight saving time!
Yet knowing how weak force leads on to weak force
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a signatory
Somewhere ageratum and ageratum hence:
Two roadsteads diverged in a woodcraft, and I,
I took the onrush less traveled by,
And that has made all the digest.
In my opinion, I think N+7 just turns out really weird. Though I love math just as much as creative writing, I don't think I'll be combining them in the N+7 way again. However, I might try one of OULIPO's other techniques.
Saturday, April 13, 2013
Techie Haikus
My husband convinced me to enter a techie haiku contest on ThinkGeek. Here are the haikus I'm thinking about entering into the contest.
Oh, hello Kirby.
Wait...what?...Please don't suck me in!
I have no powers!
~ ~ ~
It's happened again.
I stare at my computer.
The blue screen of death.
~ ~ ~
Joshua Jackson?
I love Joshua Jackson!
I miss watching Fringe.
~ ~ ~
20 68 61 69 6b 75
Translation:
( haiku)
written in Hexadecimal Code
My husband helped me with the last haiku. I wanted to write haiku in binary code, but it wasn't working out, so he told me to write it in hexadecimal code instead.
Friday, April 12, 2013
Clerihew - Sheldon Cooper
This poem is for all The Big Bang Theory fans out there!
Sheldon Cooper
Is in a stupor.
Even though he's sick, Penny won't take pity.
She refuses to sing "Soft Kitty."
Thursday, April 11, 2013
Limerick - Quit Monkeying Around
Quit Monkeying Around
By Candace Shultz
I once knew a guy from the zoo.
He kissed a girl monkey or two.
"Cut it out," I said.
He wiggled instead
And threw a big chunk of his poo.
Wednesday, April 10, 2013
Limerick - Old Mother Hubba Hubba
I've never written a limerick, so I gave it a try yesterday. The following poem is my first limerick ever. My husband came up with the title.
Old Mother Hubba Hubba
By Candace Shultz
There once was a Grandma who read
A book of romance in her bed.
The words were obscene,
For her just routine,
So she jumped on her husband instead.
I dedicate this poem to my Grandma.
Tuesday, April 9, 2013
A Daughter's Sonnet
I finished my sonnet! I hope you enjoy reading it.
A Daughter's Sonnet
By Candace Shultz
I wish that I could see my dad today
And tell him he was never there for me.
The truth is that he never cared to be.
It doesn't matter what he wants to say,
For all those years of tears he has to pay
For shirking his responsibility
And treating me as though I am debris.
Denying me will never be okay.
But I don't want to be like him at all,
So I forgive my dad. Rejecting him
Will only hurt me more. My anger's there,
But I release my pain to God and call
For peace between my dad and me to bring
An end to bitter ways and long despair.
Monday, April 8, 2013
Clerihew - Mr. and Mrs. Carter
I'm still working on my sonnet, and I really hope for it to be completed tomorrow. So today I will share with you two clerihew poems that go together. Mr. and Mrs. Carter are characters from my imagination.
Mr. Jerry Carter
Made a barter.
He lost all his money and wanted a gold knife,
So he traded for it by selling his wife.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Mrs. Mary Carter
Was sold in a barter,
But she left her husband in laughter
Because she took all his money and lived happily ever after.
Sunday, April 7, 2013
Cleo and Me
Today I worked on a poem for two hours until my husband said it was 10:30 pm, but I still hadn't finished the poem. I started out with one idea, scratched the idea partway through, then went with an entirely different idea. I often want to be perfect when I write, so I edit as I go along, which really means that I stare at my paper as I run through various sentences in my mind until I finally write down one line 10 minutes later. Obviously my work will not be perfect, so I know I should just write and write and write, and then edit later.
Long story short, I didn't finish the poem I was working on today. I decided to write a sonnet, so it's taking a lot more work than my previous poems.
But do not be sad, my dear readers, for I will still share a poem with you. I delved into my old journal of poetry. When I say old, I mean one that's over 10 years old. I am sharing with you a rewrite of one of my very first poems. I say "rewrite" because I had lost the original and rewrote what I could remember. I think I wrote this poem when I was around 10 or 11 years old.
I look forward to seeing her every day,
Long story short, I didn't finish the poem I was working on today. I decided to write a sonnet, so it's taking a lot more work than my previous poems.
But do not be sad, my dear readers, for I will still share a poem with you. I delved into my old journal of poetry. When I say old, I mean one that's over 10 years old. I am sharing with you a rewrite of one of my very first poems. I say "rewrite" because I had lost the original and rewrote what I could remember. I think I wrote this poem when I was around 10 or 11 years old.
Cleo and Me
By Candace Shultz
I have a cat
Who is not fat.
She likes to always wear a hat
Only when she sees my Uncle Pat.
Her name is Cleo,
And she likes a cat named Leo.
I look forward to seeing her every day,
But my mom usually tells me to go out and play,
So I go to the bay
While Cleo is having fun playing in the hay.
She really loves the Lord,
And she won't touch a sword,
So when she gets bored
We jump in the beautiful white Ford.
When Cleo and I have nothing to do,
We go outside and play with Sue.
To have fun, we dye our hair
And show our parents to give them a scare.
Now that Cleo is a special friend,
My poem to you has come to an end.
Saturday, April 6, 2013
Sleeping Haiku
I decided to write haiku today. The day just whizzed by, and it's about time for bed, so I think haiku about sleeping or waking would be appropriate. Since today is Day 6 of National Poetry Month, I'll share 6 haiku.
Bleary-eyed, I wake
Though not of my own accord.
Damn you, alarm clock.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Oh fluffy pillow,
Where I love to rest my head
And sleep the night through.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
I don't make the bed.
I just haphazardly throw
The blankets on me.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
I shiver from cold,
So I cuddle my husband
And take all his warmth.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
I long for my bed,
To stretch out my legs and sleep,
To blissfully dream.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
I should clean the house,
But my body says to sleep,
So I nap instead.
Friday, April 5, 2013
Because You Love Me
Because You Love Me
By Candace Shultz
I snuggle to your chest
And sleep in your arms.
I walk when you hold my hands.
I trust you.
You feed me when I'm hungry,
Bundle me up when I am cold.
You rock me when I'm crying.
I need you.
I laugh when you tickle me
And smile at your coos.
I cherish every hug and kiss
Because I love you.
I trust you with my life.
I need you every day.
I love you with all my heart.
Can we go outside and play?
Thursday, April 4, 2013
Clerihew - Little Bo Peep
Little Bo Peep
Was tired of sheep,
So she lost them one by one
And went into town to have some fun.
Wednesday, April 3, 2013
Cinquain - Baby
Baby
By Candace Shultz
Baby
Sweet, curious
Crawling, standing, walking
Each stage just a fleeting moment
Toddler
Monday, April 1, 2013
Cinquain - Notebook
April is National Poetry Month! I've decided to write a new poem for each day of this month. Today I tried to write a cinquain for the first time. You can go to this website for examples and descriptions of a cinquain.
Notebook
By Candace Shultz
By Candace Shultz
Notebook
Crisp, white pages
A blank slate for ideas
Becomes tattooed and worn with use
Journal
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