Magnetic Poetry and Dictionary Pages
Photo Credit: Natalie Roberts

Poetry 365: The Internet Of Things

The Internet Of Things

By: Meena Rose

It looms on the horizon,
This Star Trek talk of streamed bits;
Humans in absentia.

Information tallied, decisions made;
Actions taken on your behalf;
You’re non the wiser.

When binary bandits abound and
Pilfer packets midair,
More than identity is at stake.

Hosted clouds rain down
Information – a horde of bits
That can predict your next move.

I shall invest
In becoming
An anomaly.

Words, Post Election
Photo Credit: e_walk

Poetry 365: Endless Possibility

Endless Possibility

By: Meena Rose

After I’ve tweeted, pinned and liked
And slashed fruit like a ninja, I look up;

Thirty more minutes of pure wait time
And the phone chirps indicating it’s on its last breath;

I sigh and look around;
Time to go old school;

There’s people to watch, characters
To archive and moments to treasure;

I dip my paint brush into these moments
And paint the canvas of my existence.

Words, Post Election
Photo Credit: e_walk

Poetry 365: Beyond Words

Beyond Words

By: Meena Rose

When words give way to emotions
And that sensation is then condensed,
I still have no words to describe
This form of being – the lushness, the fullness,
the I can hardly breathe but all is wellness.

So, instead, I breathe, for you and for me;
I breathe to exhale radiance and belonging;
I breathe and let go as the memories
Race towards a finish line beyond the horizon – the
Consciousness of this when and now.

Claudsy’s Blog: Rushin’ and Haulin’

Book and knowledge concept

What does that mean? It describes what I’ve been up to lately. I’ve been rushin’ to get Dreamie’s Box finished and through the final edit before it goes to the copywriter.

I’ve also been haulin’ out old stories that I’ve not done anything with, getting them revised and ready to release on Kindle as a group of collections. Flash fiction is great for that.

Along with those two projects, I’ve got three writing courses and a workshop that I work on each week.

Stress. Woman stressedSprinkle in those pesky domestic errands and other necessary appointments and time tends to spin its wheels in one direction and race off in another. So, here I am, in the middle of March, looking around for the first time in a long while.

And how are you all? I’m hoping that productivity, creativity, and harmony are paramount in your worlds. Pop in once in a while and let us know what you’ve been working on. Don’t be shy. It doesn’t matter if it’s something you neglected to get done last year. I have several of those projects hanging from the rafters, waiting to be taking down and dusted off. Drop your news in a comment and give us a thrill.

Now, as to my tiny goals for this year, I have several. All of them are important to me, but the one thing I’ve worked into the program this year is the time to relax, have fun, and chill out. I have no intentions of going back to the burn-out zone. Been there, done that too many times already.

I managed to get through a revision of Dreamie’s Box in February. All I have to do now is get the last half of the book through my crit group. Not that I’ll wait for them before shopping it out to agents. The first three chapters are finished and ready to go, as well as the next dozen chapters. I should have the rest ready for its first run out by the first of April. That makes me feel good.

Hey, you can only kill off so many characters before you’ve lost all your suspects. You know?

stack-of-books-on-white-background-vector-illustration_z1m6_xvdI also want to get this flash fiction mini-collection launched by the end of March—no later than the first week of April. The stories are all fantasy and a bit on the spooky side. Not grisly, but spooky. After that I have a short collection of contemporary flash fiction that ranges from fantasy to quirky.  Both of these chapbooks have stories of around 500 words each. These will sell for $0.99 each.

Two later books of short fiction will come out later; one with stories running just over 1000 words, and the next with stories between 1500 and 2000 words each. These will go for $1.99 each.

Time is money conceptThese should all keep me occupied for a while and are part of my goal list. After that, I’ll work on only those stories and books that have been sitting on multiple backburners for so long that some probably have moss growing around their edges.

And there you have it—my rushin’ and haulin’ exercises for a fit writer. Or, at least as fit as I’m likely to get sitting in front of the computer.

I’m working hard to get set up so that I can come here at least once a week. We’ll see how well I do with that since things have settled down a bit. Take care, all.

A bientot,

Claudsy

 

 

 

Magnetic Poetry and Dictionary Pages
Photo Credit: Natalie Roberts
Magnetic Poetry and Dictionary Pages
Photo Credit: Natalie Roberts

Poetry 365: Sunday’s Gift

Sunday’s Gift

By: Meena Rose

I measure my life by the week;
Sunday nights I catch myself
Wondering about the incoming week;
The old one transits.

I look back and hold on to
Feelings that shimmer;
Wispy and ethereal;
A fading iridescence.

I breathe life into them again;
A prayer of gratitude upon my lips;
I cast off the week taking note of loose ends;
I chain one into the weave of my future.

Words, Post Election
Photo Credit: e_walk
Words, Post Election
Photo Credit: e_walk
Words, Post Election
Photo Credit: e_walk

Poetry 365: I Am A Myth

I Am A Myth

By: Meena Rose

I am a myth born out of
Stardust and water and
Willed intentions of a roving soul.

I am a myth whose history
Has been shrouded and diluted;
I continually rise to a destination, unknown.

I am a myth who fondles
The rich wet earth around me;
Still I call out to the sky.

I am a myth who has become
Occupied with the mundane;
Perfecting the nuances that must be unlearned.

I am a myth whose story
Has not yet been written;
Pen in hand, the ink takes over.

Magnetic Poetry and Dictionary Pages
Photo Credit: Natalie Roberts

Poetry 365: Gaia’s Midwife

Gaia’s Midwife

By: Meena Rose

She let life happen to her;
She had to accept and trust;
Yes, she who once
Ran with Sister Wolf – a lifetime
Ago since she’d lobbied for
Romulus and Remus.

She was stuck, in many ways;
Most annoyingly in rush hour traffic;
Nothing offered solace save for
The gleam of the silvered baby moon;
Soon she promised herself, soon
She’d toss decorum out the window

And how at the moon.