Poetry Wednesday – Words Elude

Words Elude

Exact words elude

Swim around in my coffee

Cooling rapidly beside paper

Determined to be more

More than blank on this day

Where ink runs and hides

For the words have interests

Elsewhere, anywhere but here

With them and the paper

Better to swim and sink

Into the coffee grounds

Than make marks of the heart

Visible for all to read

Exact words elude

Swim around in my coffee

Patterns they make just as lovely

As the ones they could make

With ink on the paper beside

My coffee cup’s forlorn nature

A sentinel on my desk in wait

For more to come soon enough

Even as exact words elude

NaNoWriMo 2020 – Day 3

Still trying to decide how it came to be November already. Quickly closing in on 8 months since I last had a “normal” day (as known as March 13th). I continue to struggle with the new “normal” with everything that is going on and how it constantly changes. Never knowing what tomorrow or a few hours from now will bring.

Today is Election Day in the USA. I voted by drop-off ballot weeks ago so I do not have to deal with the chaos of actually voting today. This day brings a lot of uncertainty with it. Uncertainty I am try not to focus on. Instead, I am working diligently on NaNoWriMo.

I am very, very determined to get back into the writing groove and the general creativity groove. My creativity has been immensely sporadic this year. I have great dislike for that as I prefer to be consistently creative even if it an extremely brief blip of time each day.

During these past months, I spent time creating products for Patchwork Chicken Studio. Each product took longer than normal to make – due to distractions, depression, exhaustion, and grief (from losing loved ones to Covid) – but I eventually got to the finish line. I was happy to have things to do and things to force myself to do, to focus on that didn’t involve spending alone time with my brain. Sadly, writing involves spending a lot of focused time alone with my brain.

Aside from NaNoWriMo, November is a busy month for Patchwork Chicken Studio. We are doing a month-long virtual Artisan Market as well as doing all kinds of holiday promo work over on our website. Normally, we’d spend all of our weekends from late September until early December at in-person Art Shows, Artisan Markets, and Craft Shows displaying and selling our one-of-a-kind handmade goods & gifts but all of those shows have been canceled due to Covid. Accordingly, we must adapt and focus on online sales for the holidays.

Even though my highly introverted self really struggled with the intense social aspect of the shows, I find myself missing them. Like the holiday season doesn’t feel like the holiday season with them gone.

It is truly a bizarre year – emotionally, physically, mentally.

Shop Small for the Holidays

Fort Collins’ Holiday Artisan Market

This is the only craft fair my friend and I are doing this year with our business, Patchwork Chicken Studio, due to Covid-19. The Fort Collins’ Holiday Artisan Market decided to go 100% virtual this year. We are very excited for it as we’ve loved participating in the previous Holiday Artisan Markets. If you are looking for great handmade holiday gifts, please check out Fort Collins’ Holiday Artisan Market, https://www.fcgov.com/recreation/artisan-market, and Patchwork Chicken Studio, https://www.patchworkchickenstudio.com/.

Poetry Wednesday – Strigoi

Strigoi

Strigoi seeking me out
As I run from, run to
Downy softness of my bed
Drenched in blood long forgotten
Still dripping down to floorboards
Warped like dreams of escape
Fascinating in experimental essence
Roaming around unguarded misguided
As I run to, run from
Strigoi seeking me out
In general torrid necrophilia
Brighter than the morgue’s steel
Surrounding me in glimmers
Dance like stars in night
Behind my closing eyes slowly
As I run to, run from
Downy softness of my bed

NaPoWriMo 2020 – Day 10

Night’s Dress

Dancer in night’s dress
Spinning the moon
Around in marked misery
Waiting for a lover to come
No longer wants to dance
Only for my memories
Ever sinking in deeper
Still with each footfall
Across unseen stages
Dancer in night’s dress
Tipped with blood I did
Fashion on the edge
Of a rusty razor blade
More delicate than perceived
No longer wanting to dance
Dance for only my memories
Fading into shadows
Reaching out like hands
Of a lover in sweet caress
Reach everlasting for
Dancer in night’s dress