So having conquered NaNoWriMo last year and done a poem a day for a whole year previous to that I have now signed up for National Poem Writing Month – 30 poems in 30 days.
How hard can it be?
Gulp!
Just two kids to look after as well as a mounting work load – hence me writing this at nearly 1:00am.
Still – it will be good to get my poetry head on again.
So – In sorting out paperwork recently I came across a scrap of paper that had been an attempt to start a journal years and years ago. I thought it would be a good idea to add those snippets of information on here – purely for my own reference so I can find them again easier in the future.
This lead me in to looking back at my first posts, when I was essentially trying to keep a journal. There was so much good stuff, especially about all Alexander’s firsts and so on, that it has made me realise how valuable those posts are. Not the blogging world in general but to myself! So I have resolved to try to start keeping a journal again, as well as all the other stuff I post.
Let’s see how it goes.
Also if any of my friends out their have any significant dates they remember would be good to fill on the large gaps in my memory 🙂
Apologies for the silence. Have felt like death most of the week. Hopefully normal service will resume soon.
Today’s blogging101 task was Try (Another) Blogging Event
So I chose this one – TAKE THE 50-WORD STORY CHALLENGE
It has ten prompts – I have only done one so far but will try to update all ten before the month is out! As if I didn’t have enough deadlines and challenges.
This is the first
No time to sleep, Must get on. Much to do. Can’t be late. Sleep when you’re dead my old man used to say. Who’s coming I wonder? Here come the cars. Just take a peek Not many! Expected more at my own funeral! Oh well, what’s next?
#blogging101
#theCommons
In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “32 Flavors.”
This a repost of a quick story I wrote some time ago – designed to be added to
Thought I would give it another airing 🙂
Lunch Hour
Started by Scott Bailey
There were some friends. And a hall. An infinite hall, with marble walls and pillars that stretched forever into the distance.
And there were tables. Row after row after row of tables. On each table was a never-ending supply of a single dish. In that hall, on those tables there could be found every dish that had ever been imagined, concocted and served up in all of human history.
With a thought you could be sitting before any dish you could think of. Or you could ask your neighbour for a recommendation and try something new. The name of the dish was enough to take you there.
It was time for the friends to eat. They entered and they took their paths through the hall. They commenced their lunch.
As they knew – it was a once only meal.
An hour later they reconvened, look each other in the eyes and assessed their time beneath the infinite arches.
The first spoke.
“I tried as many different tastes as I could. I jumped from table to table and I can honestly say that I know of no one who, could have filled their time here with as many different flavours as I. Yet. Now I am here – wonder why? I stand here before you proudly stating the quantity of meals I have partaken off – yet I wonder why does that matter? Not one was complete. Have I missed the joy of a meal.”
He hung his head, deep in thought and regret. But second friend spoke.
“You make me wonder. What taste did I miss? I did not try many different meals, For quite soon I found one that I really enjoyed. I sat down and savoured the taste. People around me did the same and we discussed the meal and more besides. I do not regret that – no it was heartwarming – but I wonder at the tastes I missed. Was there a better meal still that I could have savoured with more relish?”
The third friend looked haunted.
“I did not eat. I wanted to try everything but I realised this was not possible, that it was a dream that could only fail. Yet I felt that to just sit down and eat was an insult to the great hospitality and variety that had been laid before us. I fell in with a group of other like-minded people and we were determined to resolve this dilemma with the gifts of reason we have been bestowed with. I have been a fool.”
“You are all fools!” said a fourth friend.
“I knew the way – I understood the correct combination of meals that would allow perfection! I tried to tell you but you would not listen! So many people did not listen! Fools! But there were some and we understand that we have eaten correctly and that we will be rewarded for that. I pity you – you have wasted your lunch hour.”
From Liz Bryant (via Facebook)
“I knew that every choice I could possibly imagine was available to me if only I could be sure to think of my heart’s desire but I couldn’t trust myself to be sure my imagination would conjure my one enduring favourite dish so I watched everyone else and enjoyed observing them choose and enjoy and I admired those who took time to consider, enjoyed and left happy that they had made the right choice”
In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “A House Divided.”
You work hard
I struggle by
In the dark
You’re a hard-working family
To pay my bills
A silent dark
You deserve more
To keep my job
Shattered by
Respect and remuneration
My family safe
A scream so stark
Higher wage
Bills accrue
A sister torn
More tax
No breaks in sight
A mother too
Security
I am undermined
And then my turn
Here they come
By cheaper crews
To be their tool
To take your jobs
And labour pools
Alone I lived
We try to stop them
Let down by those
My family died
But the law demands
For who we fought a war
Alone I ran
Freedoms we ill afford
Belts pulled tight
Alone to hide
So we must let them in
Doors shut tight
Far away
We need your fear
As our land
Where wars don’t rage
So let us pass
Slips away
Across the sea
Stronger laws
Dreams of the past
Into a cage
And take your cash
Of golden days
And forms and forms
For a better way
Seem far away
And questions long
Altogether now
Every man for himself
And looks of scorn
Watch your backs
Seems the only way
And acts of wrong
Strengthen our national pride
So I must take a stand
Drowning in
Defend our ways
Against the tide
A stinking sea
Our traditions
That seems to me
I cry
Like class division
To rise and rise
No one pities me
And stay an island proud
To drown our island’s pride
No one pities me
#blogging101
#theCommons
