What Is Home?

poetry

Home is where the heart is
or is home where a heart is?
How do you know where a heart lives?
A home may be messy.
It may be clean.
Loud noises may prevail,
or a simple quiet hum.
The smell of cooking
paint or farm animals
live among the walls of a home.

So what is a home?
Memories are made within the wall
and pictures displays the heart’s love.
Styles along with dishware
are mixed and matched;
meaning hearts are mingling,
meaning that the home has lasted.
Loved is displayed
with knick-knacks
and photos of family
leaving lingering love in the air.

What Happened This Week- DreamWard Bound

success

What happened this week? What did I do?

It seems like a long week, packed with work and social media. I have reasons for feeling like this week was focused on social media and the internet. I took a webinar, my improv troupe created social media accounts, and I am starting a new project that requires accounts. There are reasons why you have not heard about the new accounts that I helped set up and will be working with.

The improv troupe is still getting the promotional information up. We should be tweeting and posting later this week. When we do I will be retweeting and sharing posts.

The other project still needs some definition and to be smoothed out. It also needs images or at least a logo. When we have everything ready for that I will also be retweeting and sharing posts. I will also be talking about it more and giving you details.

In general I am going to try to be more social on social media. I am going to try to share more things that I think are interesting and basically just be more active. I learned a lot of tips while taking Amy Jo Berman’s  webinar about social media. I also had a few smiles when I realized I am doing some things right.

That being said once this site is on the right server I will be changing my site up. It will have 3 distinct areas. Each are will have its own feel and aspect of myself. This means that when you go to the home page there will be 3 sections to choose from (Actor, Author, and Artist). I will have the most recent blog post on the home page, but everything else will be under one of the other aspects. This way I can represent myself more clearly and fully. It is exciting to be making changes, but it will also be a lot of work.

Looking back on this post, it seems like a lot of it was what will happen. I promise I did do things. It takes work to set up awesomeness and I believe that all that is being set up now will be great.

I only have one link for you today. I only posted my weekly writing prompt

I Am A Soggy Bagel

bagel (2)

Today I got dressed up. I felt like I needed to look good. I wanted to take extra time for myself, so in the morning I woke up early. I put on my new cream cheese spread and wore heels. I even did my make-up. I was looking amazing if I do say so myself.

I started my car and went to work. I was on the highway when it started to rain and then I got a flat tire. I pulled over to change the tire. As soon as my car was safely on the side of the highway the clouds fully opened up. Have you ever seen a bagel in high heels changing a tire when it was raining buckets? I am sure I was amusing the drivers with all four tires intact that drove by. I just know it was not fun changing that tire and I was almost instantly soggy. After a few nice people did stop to help I finally had my tire changed to the spare.

I stopped, soaking wet, at a tire store. They changed the spare out for a new regular tire and I was off to work, again. The only real different was that I was no longer fancy or looking amazing. I was simply a soggy bagel in heels.

Could Be ( A Poem)

poetry
This could be amazing;
ride upon unicorns
over sparkling rainbows
while bards play magical melodies
and wild nymphs dance on trees
amazing.
Others may spring into light
out of sheer joy.
This could bring delightful dancing doggies
or curiously cute cats,
wonders upon wonders could be brought.

On the other hand
if you flip the tape,
reverse my hopes,
show my fears.

This could be terrible,
rotted death could ooze out its orifices
like black tar filled humiliation
and the sulfur smell of dying dreams
those that were crushed by failure,
which would cause a dank cave
to become a bare home for my soul
with only swollen sadness
to guide my lonely days.

There is a burning flame
a flickering fire inside
that holds to the unicorn
almost seeing the sparkling rainbow
and knows
even if dying dreams are crushed by failure
new one will arise
out of the dream pulp
or ashes of failure.
The phoenix that is my heart
will go on
will create.

Pain

poetry
First you whisper,
then you walk close.
You talk,
telling me to focus
or maybe it was ‘relax’.
Either way you came
to distract,
although my aim was to ignore
and ignore I did
until the training was brought to its end.

You allowed me to ignore you,
but you were patiently waiting
gathering information for the fight.
You calmly waited
until I was alone.
I was still.
Then you erupted
with a thunderous shout
because I did not move
not how you wanted.
The movement caused you to no longer be ignored
my attention was yours.
As I relaxed you were in the way.
As I lay in bed you preventing sleep.
As I ate breakfast you interrupted.

Thankfully I could dig in my bag
to find earmuffs to your nice
and swallowed them down.
Then heated a towel
to sooth what was left,
eventually freezing you out after.
More ear muffs,
more heat, more cold
and then life was possible.

Let Me Live (A Poem)

poetry
Let me live among the stars
Allow me to dance a jazz-square
on the moon.
If not teach me
how to trap my dreams in reality.

I will soar high
above my common life
living in the clouds of my desire
then like gravity
you pull be back
to where I sit.

Let me fly.
Let me soar.
Let me live,
even for a moment more.

Instead you pull me
chain me
and remind me of my fears.
Road blocks are made
while obstacles rise
like you forget what’s inside.

My heart will soar
I will fly.
You may be helpful
reminding me of reality
but my dear mind
you know my heart and my soul.
They will win.
I will live among the stars
and dance on the moon,
so please just step aside.

I Am A Hurt Bagel

bagel (2)

The other day I woke up and my body was a bit stale. I thought nothing of it until later in the day. I started to workout with Baguette. I stretched and then ran. I was fine until we started to do the floor exercises. I should restate that. It was not until I tried to do the floor exercises that I started to feel real pain. I was falling ungracefully as Baguette showed me what to do. Yes, she did the floor exercises and I flopped around. I wound up getting unnaturally twisted up and my staleness turned into real pain. It was so bad that I could not fall asleep that night.

Thankfully us Bagels heal fast with a little wet heat. I was back to my non-exercising self within a day.

 

 

The Window

poetry

The Window stays open,
but it’s cold outside.
The window stays open,
as I put on a heavy sweat shirt.
The window stays open,
so I pull on warm socks.

The cold air reminds me
of autumn leaves blowing.
The cold air reminds me
of my family gathering.
The cold air reminds me
that I am still alive.

The window stays open.
The cold air reminds me.

Unnatural Nature

poetry
In a sea of knowledge
I’m surrounded by boats not fish
technology in the place of nature.
Pushing manual buttons
to answer virtual questions.
Even as I yearn for true life
I watch a mechanical fountain
as it pushes recycled water.

Electricity and lighted monitors
are my visual inputs,
with photo-shopped beauties plastered
all around the two-dimensions of my screen;
All the while knowing nature is so much more
fulfilling, beautiful, and inspiring.
It’s so sad that the shackles
of modern life keeps me coming
to the sea of knowledge
where I push mechanical buttons.

This was a very short poem, but I lengthened it. Let me know what you think and have a wonderful day.