Posts Tagged ‘poetry’

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Writing is hard work. Dating is hard work. Joining a Nunnery (I imagine) is hard work. Just about everything we do is hard work but that shouldn’t stop us.

There’s no doubt, when I write, I want to dazzle my readers. I want to make them laugh and cry without being sappy, I want to make them think without being too profound, I want to reach them on some level so they go away feeling more than when they started and most of all, I want them to turn page after page and thirst for more. It’s hard work.

It’s also a lot of fun.

When I get into my ‘zone’, whether it is poetry or a story I’m writing, I am entirely in my narrative. Words flow through my body and out my fingertips onto the page or screen. Characters come alive, each with their own look, voice, personality. Dramatic scenes happen organically, erotic or romantic scenes surprise me, sometimes new characters appear from nowhere and become more prominent than imagined.

When lost in my stories or poems, nothing else matters. Thoughts to impress are easily abandoned. It doesn’t matter. I’m in my own dazzling world of fiction, of fantasy, of verse.

Once finished, however, the painful process of editing begins and the demons step out. They only stick around for a while and have an important job to nudge the piece along. They clip frayed edges, remove some of the innards that aren’t working, and give the material a few facelifts. This process can take months, often years, the end result being the initial passion you began with but dusted off and polished.

Yes, writing is like that. Dating…well, maybe more on that next week. 

ML

 

Titillating Tuesday

Posted on: November 8th, 2016 by Madison Lake No Comments

Excerpt from the new anthology SkinOnSkin, available on Amazon. This is one of my submissions/additions to the anthology. I will post the work of other poets over the course of time. 

****************

NIGHT PRAYER

Fingers slide over

the strand

that adorns her collarbone,

pearl one, pearl two,

a rosary prayer. She doesn’t believe,

yet knows what to do. His snores

reverberate the hollow

room, the un-slept side

of the conjugal bed

bereft of desire. Her desire 

whispers under lace,

under garment, under

downy fur

fingered through

quickened breath. His slumber

stifles her cries;

agonized joy

released to a void

devoid of love. Her eyes

close around a tangle of dreams.

*****************

Please visit Amazon to find SkinOnSkin. It’s an amazing representation of erotic poetry from poets around the world. A must for your collection.

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Today is like a Monday here in Canada. That’s because yesterday was Victoria Day, or as we call it, the May long weekend.

It almost always rains on the May long weekend. That’s because a lot of people camp. I can’t even remember how many camping trips I got rained on over May long weekends past. This year the weather forecast was for rain (surprise!) so some people prepared by packing extra rain gear (because in BC you always pack rain gear), or they changed their plans and booked a hotel or they canceled their trip altogether. All weekend it threatened rain but by noon every day the sun appeared. It didn’t rain once. Murphy’s law.

Generally I stay home for the May long weekend choosing a quiet, less busy city over traffic and ferry line-ups. This year, a lot of people who would have gone out of town (and should have) stayed behind making the seawall where I love to walk my dog almost as busy as Highway 1 during Friday rush hour.

Instead I opted for hikes in the woods and then the quiet of my own home, where (drumroll…) I drafted three new poems and revisited my new Madison Lake book! Does this mean the spell is broken? Does this mean my writing slump has been slumped? (that’s like a double trump for those card sharks out there). Could my block be freed?069e47cc1ed73ef7d7914605c6853b6a

Honestly, this hiccup in my generally prolific writing routine has lasted all of three months – a length of time I can handle (just barely), but enough time to regroup.

I feel like I’m back in the land of the living. My land, my life, where carefully chosen words begin to fill pages; poems like minimalist paintings, stories filled with complex characters, compelling plots, language rich and textured as midwest farmland in the spring.

Only the framework of book seven is in place but the cast thus far has been chosen and are ready to play out their story. My poetry seems to be angling toward the strife and triumphs of women as we age – our bodies, our spirits, our (must have) sense of humour, our sexual desire and needs, men, women, families. 

Ah, to be home again.   

Startup Stock Photos

 

 

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It doesn’t seem like a period of rain this morning as I walk Pippa through a steady downpour.  However, it is winter.  It’s just we’ve been having such gorgeous weather.  Cold, but clear and sunny.  This dark, rainy morning feels oppressive.

I don’t know about you but when it’s cloudy and wet out, I don’t feel as guilty when I stay in and write.  As oppressive as it can feel, the mood created is perfect to hunker down with my laptop or pen and paper and lose myself in a story or a poem.

IMG_0844 (2)When the sun shines I still hunker down to write but the light streaming through the windows often gives me pause – many pauses.  My mind wanders to the brightness of the outdoors.  Green grass beckons.  My dog’s tail wags in anticipation, and it doesn’t take much for me to give in.  Soon we’re out the door into the cool, dry fresh air.

My computer will be here when I return.  My pen and paper won’t go away.  I will glean ideas on my outdoor adventure, ideas for stories and poems and books.  I will stretch my too often stiff limbs, breathe deeply, run.

Meanwhile, the rain pelts down and my fingers clip-clop on the keyboard at a rhythmical pace.  A new story emerges.  In the opening scene the sun is shining.  

Summer Flu

Posted on: August 18th, 2015 by Madison Lake No Comments

Yes, I’ve had it alright. Ugh. After months of absorbing the sweetness of summer and playing in the surf (so to speak) I got hit with the ache of fever and the chills of a winter night. Instead of being outside walking the dog, talking with neighbours, sipping a beer on a local patio, I have been wrapped in double blankets curled up in my bed, drinking fizzy water and herbal tea. At least there’s some comfort to be found. And this too shall pass…

Change the channel…

A bit better today. Out of bed and on the sofa. Big move.

Recently I’ve been working – and reworking a poem I started months ago. I find that sometimes a poem falls into my lap, I make a few tweaks, move some lines around, leave it for a few days before revisiting it with sometimes only a few final adjustments. Those don’t come along all the time, which brings me to my recent poem.

It’s been a ride from the get go. When I began writing it I had in mind where I wanted to go but that was not to be. It has morphed into more than one incarnation on the page and continues to take me along for a ride full of surprise twists and turns. At one point I almost gave it up but now I understand the piece and am eager to discover its resting place.

On the note of poetry, I may have mentioned that I have recently received several new poems for the long ago promised anthology. I’m delighted and hope to hear from more of you so we can make this anthology a reality.

Happy writing.

ML xo

 

 

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