The Stardust Equation

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In the beginning, each spark of life, each core of existence arrives on a shore of being. Like a tiny periwinkle among giant conchs, it wiggles to a place upon sands that are constantly washed by the sea of life. Its evolution within its passage through life is anchored to both its shell and its circumstance.

Likewise, each anchoring beach comprises unique conditions. Its base might be soft silica sand, easy on both shell and foot. On the other hand, coarse sand, made from granite and other hard minerals could leave behind a swath of hard-packed terrain where the diminutive periwinkle is forever buried, with little likelihood of resurfacing. Gravel could make movement treacherous or uncomfortable along other stretches of shoreline. Boulders. pounded relentlessly by ferocious waves, might never allow a shell to lift itself above the waters.

All gradients of condition exist for both beach and the life sparks that move ashore with the aid of the sea. Each individual life must find purchase on the shore and expand from there. Some get chosen for inland locations. They’re taken from the sands, carried to a favored place and shown off for their unique beauty.  Others are taken away to be ground into use as components for building materials, both mundane and grandiose. Still more lose parts of themselves as adornments worn by those who admire their pretty colors.

Yet, within all futures, each spark retains its core, whether pristine or corrupted, tarnished or scratched, hopeful or beaten. With the individual lies what is gained from its existence. The profit isn’t contained in vaults of gold or hectares of property, but in the knowledge and wisdom gleaned from the act of living.

Scientists have posited that all life contains a grain of stardust, an infinitesimal speck of the cosmic stuff of stars. If so, we as humans, are merely another life form among many, each striving to make a space for ourselves upon the shore where we landed. The conditions for that life vary according to terrain, heritage, genetic predisposition, and our own decisions.

The past seven months have been a testament to raging seas for me. My periwinkle shell has been tossed upon boulders, gravel shores, and buried up to my shell’s escape hatch. And the waves continue.

I’ve learned much during this period of testing both patience and perseverance. My life spark doesn’t give up easily. It may hibernate until it can breathe properly and focus on more than the next few hours, but it doesn’t give up.

Hope and personal fantasy keep sparks alive when little else can. Practicality doesn’t come into the equation. At least, not during those waking hours of making it through the muddle and turbulence of treading waves.

Meditation adds stability for those who can tolerate their own relentless thoughts and their wandering paths. Yet, it is along those meandering trails of seemingly mindless musings where the deepest insights are discovered. Insights not merely about oneself, but also about one’s place in the universe. Meditation allows a person to be the objective observer of her own existence, if she will allow her awareness to take up that role.

Such observation affords an opportunity to take stock of one’s life, without the emotional impact associated with immediate circumstances or life pressures. It also gives one breathing space to regroup for future actions.

Those actions may be guided by personal desire, thwarted desires, long-held dreams, or any number of those incentives. Whatever the course chosen, it’s derived from the flickering spark that has survived the raging waters of life. It has survived to carry its light to other shores, for other purposes, based on its previous travels.

My spark continues on a writer’s road. The destination of that road, however, has many detours lurking along its length. I’ve always been a person who wondered where unknown roads lead. Perhaps that’s the adventurer in me. Perhaps, it’s merely the curious child, looking for a new playground. Whatever the cause, I fully intend to enjoy this wandering journey of mine.

If I manage to shed a bit of light here and there, so much the better. If all I do is entertain someone for a short space of time, I’ll count myself well-paid. Regardless of destination, personal enjoyment is on my agenda.

It is my hope that whatever rough seas you have traversed this year will throw your spark onto a shore where you can find purchase and glow for all the world to see.

The future is too fluid to make more than flexible plans. And I must be as fluid as I can in whatever I chose to work on next.

I will try to stop in here to throw down a personal challenge on a more regular basis. Looking for new activities is becoming increasingly attractive. Who knows what I’ll come up with in the next few weeks.

Hang in there, folks. This little speck of stardust hasn’t forgotten you. I’ve just been in a place you really didn’t want to see. It wasn’t pretty

Take care, all. I’ll see you soon. Until then,

A bientot,

Claudsy

 

#APRPAD: Day 8 – Transcendent Flower

Words, Post Election
Photo Credit: e_walk
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Every had those moments when linear thought just seems to be wishful thinking and the train of your thoughts boards a roller coaster ride at the speed of light as you pass through a wormhole into parts of the universe unknown?

Poetic Asides Write a doodle poem
NaPoWriMo.net Write about a flower

Death By Meeting

By: Meena Rose

It starts with a swirl;
Big loops engulfing smaller ones;
At some point, the zigzags start.

Circles, stars and half moons;
An attempt at a rose and always a cat;
That’s how it always is

When pen takes to paper
Especially when entrapped and
My mind nears explosion.

Jasmine Rides The Breeze

By: Meena Rose

I’m no master gardener
Or a mediocre one or a noob.
I do appreciate the colors – the
Pageantry of these things called
Flowers – You see, I hardly know
Any by name except for jasmine.

When jasmine rides that breeze
On a hot summer’s day – the days,
Months and years melt away – I am there
On that swing in my grandmother’s
Garden pretending that I could fly –
Timeless innocence and unlimited freedom.

Her easy smile made up for hips, lips and style.

Links to other #aprpad contributions:

#APRPAD: Day 1 – Just Fooling Myself

#APRPAD: Day 2 – So It Was Said

#APRPAD: Day 3 – Pride and Prejudice

#APRPAD: Day 4 – Monday Unraveled

#APRPAD: Day 5 -Heirlooms, Experience and Lack Thereof

#APRPAD: Day 6 – An Ekphrastic Foodie

#APRPAD: Day 7 – My First Tritina

#APRPAD: Day 7 – My First Tritina

InformedExperiments
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A week of poetry so far. At two poems a day, that fourteen and for the most part, I am pleased with my performance. The last poem I wrote in this venue dates back to June 2015. That was quite the harried and albeit distracted period of my creative life. Nevertheless, poetic stamina is still raging through my veins and with any luck, I do have 3 PAD weeks left in me.

This morning finds me squeezing my brain to stitch together a tritina. The tritina is a shorter cousin to the sestina, involving three, three-line stanzas, and a final concluding line. Three “end words” are used to conclude the lines of each stanza, in a set pattern of ABC, CAB, BCA, and all three end words appear together in the final line.

Poetic Asides Write an “Urban (blank)” poem
NaPoWriMo.net Write about a tritina

Urban Love Affairs

By: Meena Rose

Mountain views, river views;
A city of roses;
Food carts galore.

Saturday Market and fleet week;
A city-scape both intimate and grand;
Portland, you, I adore.

Discovering Melody

By: Meena Rose

She had no discernible hips
And pale flat lips;
Was dressed in her Mama’s style.

Afros and bellbottoms, that was her style;
She wiggled her hips
And puckered her lips

Hoping to plant a kiss on his sweet lips
And that he’d see beneath the style
And find that swing in her hips.

Her easy smile made up for hips, lips and style.

Links to other #aprpad contributions:

#APRPAD: Day 1 – Just Fooling Myself

#APRPAD: Day 2 – So It Was Said

#APRPAD: Day 3 – Pride and Prejudice

#APRPAD: Day 4 – Monday Unraveled

#APRPAD: Day 5 -Heirlooms, Experience and Lack Thereof

#APRPAD: Day 6 – An Ekphrastic Foodie

#APRPAD: Day 6 – An Ekphrastic Foodie

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How did we get so far into April this quickly? This year, April seems to be flying. Is it just me or is your fast forward button engaged as well?

Poetic Asides Write an Ekphrastic poem
NaPoWriMo.net Write about your favorite food
Portrait of A Heart

Christian Schloe – Portrait of a Heart

“To burn with desire and keep quiet about it is the greatest punishment we can bring on ourselves.”
~ Federico García Lorca -Blood Wedding and Yerma

Soul Sisters

By: Meena Rose

At first, they had no clue;
They’d come into this world
For a singular mission –
No one had any debrief notes.

Little by little, bit by bit,
Their blazing hearts couldn’t be confined,
Limited or restricted – so they expanded;
They were destined to.

Within each, an inner light glowed and pulsed;
A signal only the kindred could receive – life
Was reduced to a game of Marco Polo while
The matrix formed.

A sisterhood of flaming hearts and inspired living;
Each woman distinct from the other – simply
Bound by a credo of
Positive intention.

Fig-uratively Speaking

By: Meena Rose

She never fig-ured out
How fig and Newton came to be.

Perhaps, Sir Isaac visited Babylon
When joy struck him upon the head.

Fig-ments of her hyperactive imagination;
Sweet sticky goodness stuck between her teeth.

Links to other #aprpad contributions:

#APRPAD: Day 1 – Just Fooling Myself

#APRPAD: Day 2 – So It Was Said

#APRPAD: Day 3 – Pride and Prejudice

#APRPAD: Day 4 – Monday Unraveled

#APRPAD: Day 5 -Heirlooms, Experience and Lack Thereof

#APRPAD: Day 5 -Heirlooms, Experience and Lack Thereof

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Welcome back to my poetry. Sorry for the delay. I have been busy dealing with the aftermath of my malfunctioning vehicle – luckily, everything is covered by warranty. I get my sweet ride back next week on Thursday. Tuesday, ergo Day 5, was the day that I discovered Enterprise Rent A Car was basically sold out in the whole state of Oregon thanks to the Honda and Acura recall. This, of course, sent me on my own tailspin of thought pertaining to the rental car business supply chain modeling parameters for optimizing fleet size and keeping inventory and operational costs down. But, enough with Enterprise and on to poetry.

Poetic Asides Write an experience poem / Write an inexperience poem
NaPoWriMo.net Write about an heirloom seed

#IChooseBliss

By: Meena Rose

I spent my years learning;
Now I spend infinite minutes unlearning.

Experiences, once experienced,
Now candidates for a re-experience.

A new path and a new trail to a
Well known destination;

The same path and same trail to a
Different destination;

Sometimes, IT is the experience;
Sometimes, I am the experience;

I can only confess to my inexperience
Whenever bliss chooses me.

I can however confess to my experience
Whenever I make a choice.

Abu Rawan

By: Meena Rose

Who knew? I mean, who really knew?
My favorite fleshy sink my teeth
Into Heaven and beyond feel bliss
In the now complete taste overload
kind of tomato and I
Share a common birthplace and time.

Hardy and prolific, an unavoidable outcome,
Yet sweet and lush and generous;
Yours is a story that matches that of your
People – a beautiful resilience that glows
From within.

Links to other #aprpad contributions:

#APRPAD: Day 1 – Just Fooling Myself

#APRPAD: Day 2 – So It Was Said

#APRPAD: Day 3 – Pride and Prejudice

#APRPAD: Day 4 – Monday Unraveled

#APRPAD: Day 4 – Monday Unravelled

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Welcome to the first Monday of the April PAD season. Poetry or not, Mondays are Mondays and this one was no different. In addition to all things Monday, mine featured my car breaking down albeit under the best circumstances possible – after I had just pulled into my own driveway.

Poetic Asides Write a distance poem
NaPoWriMo.net Write about a the most horrible month

The Unraveling

By: Meena Rose

He reeled her in – hook,
Line and sinker. His magnetism
Undeniable and ever conquering.

Half a world away, time was never
In her favor. Sleep is for wimps
She thought as she blinked again.

The text message never got sent;
She fell asleep and he lost connection;
The distance and the not knowing

And the assuming and the projecting –
All those things that two people in a room
Have little reason to do – that was their norm.

Distance was extinct between those two hearts;
Distance was the white elephant disrupting
Their embrace.

She reeled him in – hook,
Line and sinker. Her love
Unconditional and ever expanding.

Half a world away, time was not
In his favor. She is my home
He thought as he looked up to the stars.

Distance caved and time collapsed;
No one could stop the unraveling
As her body crashed into his.

The Ides of Winter

By: Meena Rose

Some beware the ides of March
While others proclaim that April
Is the cruelest of months.

For me, it is the false spring
Which tricks nature into bloom
Two months too soon.

Links to other #aprpad contributions:

#APRPAD: Day 1 – Just Fooling Myself

#APRPAD: Day 2 – So It Was Said

#APRPAD: Day 3 – Pride and Prejudice

#APRPAD: Day 3 – Pride and Prejudice

Words, Post Election
Photo Credit: e_walk
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Things are definitely heating up with Day 3 of the PAD season. Seemingly divergent prompts that seem to overlap in the recesses of my mind. I am definitely glad that I have returned to writing poetry. At the very least, I feel good about the practice and myself.

Poetic Asides Take the phrase “Three (blank),” replace the blank with a word or phrase.
NaPoWriMo.net Write a fan poem

Three Flames

By: Meena Rose

Tea lights and prayers –
Three candles lit;
A vigil, a celebration, a remembrance.

One for the past and the path traveled;
Loved ones who call out from the Beyond –
A prayer of gratitude for a life well lived.

One for the present and the gifts it offers;
Abundance, love and bliss –
A prayer of gratitude for a life well lived.

One for the future and the hope that shimmers;
A life of intention and purpose –
A prayer of gratitude for a life well lived.

Jane Dearest

By: Meena Rose

Centuries and centuries ago,
You wove words together into
Tapestries that have withstood
Time and the erosion of our culture.

Centuries and centuries ago,
You captured an ideal of
Best intentions amid pride and prejudice;
Passions that could only be hinted at.

Centuries and centuries later,
Here I am with my own Mr. Darcy;
A new tapestry in the making –
Passion no longer inhibited.

Links to other #aprpad contributions:

#APRPAD: Day 1 – Just Fooling Myself

#APRPAD: Day 2 – So It Was Said