Write—For Me

I set out to write a new collection of poetry and I am thinking about words more than I have in the past.

The most difficult thing about writing is trying to find new words that mean the same thing while creating a different version of what I already wrote without repeating myself.

Can you follow that?

Some days, I can’t because it is exhausting.

I think about the words I  use when I write.  I listen to the way they sound and explore the feelings which I am trying to express.

If the words don’t invoke any feeling then I know I’m doing it wrong.

This intricacy of language is what makes writing so difficult.

One word can alter everything that you are trying to express as a writer.

I have been trying to push my writing in a different direction and— as I write— I discovered that it doesn’t work. I was frustrating myself with every word because it did not sound right.

Then, BOOM! It hit me…

Through trial and error…

I have my own style and I should use what works for me and build my toolbox from this foundation.

I attended critiques sessions for poetry and for fiction, and I received positive feedback and constructive criticism that helped me. As I work on revisions I recall the the feedback that I receive. Some of the commentaries I received were geared around the musicality and lyrical quality of my word choice. My short story received positive feedback about the intentional wordplay I created was examined.   The woman who critiqued me wasn’t sure if it was intentional wordplay and I was proud when she called out to it because it was intentional.

These pieces came naturally, they flowed from my fingertips with ease and poetic prose. I wasn’t trying to reinvent the wheel.

Not everyone likes rhyming, most people don’t like poetry, and wordplay can get lost in the mix but I shouldn’t allow that to change my style.

I have an awkward inner poet that rises up from time to time ready to create a beautiful word-vine.

I love writing. I love poetry. I love a good story. I revel in telling stories and creating a thunderous voice that booms from the pages making you feel the power of prose.  A voice that can move you to tears—as a writer making people cry is so rewarding! Think about it! To muster up that kind of emotion in another being through language now that’s powerful!

So why should I try to please everyone else with my writing?

Writing makes me happy so I should enjoy what I write.

If I am genuine then I am sure to reach an audience that will appreciate what I have created as a writer and that is all I want, even if it is an audience of one.

Releasing Writing Fears #2

I love the complexity of language and the intricacies of fabricating worlds.

Worlds that are created between the pages of a spine, so I must continuously read. It is my belief that the love of writing should come from the love of reading.

All writers should read and read everything because when you are done reading then the fun begins.

You can now begin twisting thoughts and plots in order to make something new.

I read because I love the beauty of words, I write because I want to imitate this beauty. I want to mimic what came before and write my own version.

I often avoided writing because avoidance was easy.  I would avoid creating avoid the voice inside urging to be set free.

Avoidance.

I want to create and I understand that creating requires commitment.

And I must commit to writing it all down but it’s so much easier to avoid the commitment.

In order to be a writer, I must be committed to my craft and avoidance is a self-imposed death sentence imposed upon my pen.

As a writer I am the messenger, the pen is the vessel, and the story controls my hand. I believe that I can’t control the outcome of my writing; the only thing I control is the task of getting the words out on the paper.  I may be the author, but my characters create the stories and it is their lives which dictate the outcome of my pen.

I will no longer avoid writing, I refuse to avoid the moments that the muses call out to me and I make every effort to jot down the ideas when they come to me. I continue to write because that is what I am meant to do.

Releasing Writing Fears

I like writing but I am hesitant about sharing. Self-doubt, apprehension, and fear continuously rear their putrid heads over and over again.  The self-doubt and apprehension lead me to write. In part, I believe that this is an oxymoron because the fear and apprehension should make me run from the craft.

The exploration of my language leaves me at a loss sometimes. I am lost in my thoughts and words— constantly. I am lost in observation and I am lost in the wonderment of exploration. I can explore the darkest thoughts of my mind and create something truly unique or I can create a poem that embraces every romantic idea I have ever come across and yet somehow, I feel it’s never good enough.

It’s not good enough so it’s not worth sharing.

I have so many creations, characters, and plots that are begging for exposure.

They haunt my thoughts daily.

They chase me down dark damp dreary desolate corridors.

They rush to the forefront seeking the spotlight in the world. They long to enter the minds of others and leave behind an impression of existence.

And, then, there is me.

I stand in the way of everything. I place myself between the world and my words.

Is this intentional sabotage or uncertainty? It may be both.

So I have decided to make myself uncomfortable!   I am trying to share more, I am seeking exposure, albeit, baby steps but nonetheless steps in the WRITE direction.

The first thing I did was enter a poetry contest. This forced me to create and compile a collection of my poetry. A total of 51 poems which explore my love of poetry by exploring the concepts of identity, love, sex, fear, torment, nature, and any other experience of the human existence I could muster up from the left and right hemispheres of my brain.

I am also going to continue my novel, a multi-cultural contemporary romance novel sprinkled with history. The book explores the harsh realities of love, loss, grief, trauma, history and there is the possibility of happiness (this is still to be determined).

And—for my last trick there are these short stories I have been working on. Sorted little tales I take the most pleasure in writing.

I am exploring the world of writing, my world of writing. I am going to take the time and cultivate my craft and figure out what I will do with it in the next few months.

I invite you to share your writing fears, inhibitions or apprehensions. Expose them, explore them then release them.

Puerto Rico

I am writing today from within. I write from the roots of my being. I am an American, a Puerto Rican. I am the daughter of an island born on the mainland of a country in turmoil over identity. Today, I see inaction on behalf of other American citizens, on inhabitants of an island in despair.  Americans absent from inclusion, they live on an island bombarded by the waters of grief and we are all hurting. Our island is in trouble and we are stranded on the mainland, hopeless, fearful, and desperate.

La isla del encanto, la isla de mi niñez, drowned by a storm— is surfacing for air.

And I see all of us crying out for our people.

I see humanity emerging from the depths of tragedy.

We cry out with memories of a coqui singing, the sounds of parrandas bellowing through the night, el cuatro is the backdrop of my childhood, with trio music cascading through my memories.

I still smell el calor de la lluvia que cae en el verano and I hear my grandmother saying to me, “se caso la bruja, lluvia con sol.”  I can’t translate culture. I can’t turn this refrán into something that makes sense in English. Sometimes, I can’t make sense of myself in America, because I am  Puerto Rican. The earmarks of our culture lose meaning when we try to translate them.

We try to translate our being, our identity. We try to be American- but we don’t have to try because we are Americans with a dash of sazón.

Our culture is a mixture of history told over the sounds of an island’s melody for decades.

We are American. We are part of this country too; we are the people of a nation that ignores us.

We fight in wars, we work in your business, we are doctors, nurses, teachers, representatives, we even hold a position in the Supreme Court, we are Grammy award winners, Tony award winners, actors, actresses, sports players, musicians, rappers, poets, writers, executives, secretaries, your neighbors, and friends.

It saddens me that the tragedy which has fallen upon the birthplace of my ancestry has devastated the Motherland. But I want you to remember “Esta raza siempre es brava/ Aunque sople el temporal” (Residente, Hijos Del Cañaveral).

Don’t lose sight of the solidarity that has forged from this tragedy. Make an effort to help. Bring attention to the plight of our island; bring attention to the people of the island. Don’t sit down and remain silent, write letters make phone calls, donate money for relief efforts (Donating items is not always the best solution unless you know what is exactly needed. Avoid waste).

Find out where the relief efforts are, change the conversation of the nation unite with others and make CHANGE happen.

K.D. Dowdall : To Wish Upon a Star

To wish on a star in the dark of night shows true faith, belief and courage of the heart. That is what has been captured here by K.D. Dowdall. Please take the time to look at her blog you will not be disappointed.

Pen & Paper

If you wish upon a star,

For true love’s sake,

Please don’t tell it,

Where you are,

For stars are fire,

Burning bright,

And it will surely,

Take your sight,

For if your love is true,

No star can ere replace,

The light of love,

Upon your face,

Should there be,

The darkest night.

K. D. Dowdall

Copyright 2016

View original post

Music Mondays: Changes

Change starts with you! Remember your history as a warning, learn from the lessons of the past. Changes start with people like us-it is up to us to make things all right.

 

 

Dear Lady Liberty

Dear Lady Liberty,

As you stand in the harbor watching over our nation, I imagine the tears falling down your face. I imagine your heart has been broken by the problems we have created. I imagine that as you are standing in the harbor you are watching how we systematically kill your children.  Today, you are the figure of a mother burying her children.

We will destroy the liberty and freedom we fought to create over the years. Marches occurred to fight for our rights, but overnight we seemed to forget the power “We the people” have. We continue to marginalize groups of people because they are different.

We have forgotten our past and ignored our history. We have tried to erase it. We have ignored the wound and now it is infected, and I apologize. Lady Liberty. I apologize for not taking care of your children or valuing the idea of freedom and liberty.

I apologize for the lack of effort to promote unity.

I am sorry.

I will apologize to you when the rest of the nation is in turmoil. I apologize while everyone else ignores that movements and moments start at home.

I have hope that we learn how to respect our differences. I hope that we will not forget our past. I hope, that we learn how to improve our future. I hope that as a nation, we figure out how to move forward together.

I hope that as the turmoil subsides we learn that we all must be part of the solution. Sitting by is no longer an option. I hope that we learn that small actions matter just as much and large ones.  I hope that we realize that change starts and ends with our efforts We have to stand up and move forward together.

We cannot forget the harsh truth of our past.  The hurt and pain we have faced as a nation. We cannot forget how you, Lady Liberty, witnessed what we have become as a nation. How we have built ourselves up by oppression. You watch how we beat down on others just to build up this American identity—an American identity which spans beyond the white skin or brown skin or yellow skin or tan skin, that any one of us possess. Our history is ugly, but our future can be great.

Our present should not be a movement to rewind the clock.

Lady Liberty, I extend my hand to offer you hope. All is not lost, but these are trying times.

I hope that I will leave a better nation for my children, for your children and all children.

I hope that we take back the power that we have been given as citizens and exercise our rights.

I hope that we understand.

Love,
Hopeful America

Copyright © Delia Marrero 2017 All rights reserved.