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Poem #9, NaPoWriMo, "I wasn't worried about you, should I be?"

4/12/2017

1 Comment

 
There are those days when you're just driven to daytime drinking...
You know those days, right?
It's worse when there is actually no drink to be drank;
When things go flying before you can even catch your breath;
You get beat upon by life and also fists;
Your best bud is mad at you;
You got assignments due at school
and two jobs to boot;
You gotta make time for the dentist to do his business.
(I'll have you all know - contrary to popular belief, I do not have a big mouth-
and so it really hurts afterwards, what with the fibro and all!)
My hair is atrocious and requiring attention and care...
You get the picture, I'm sure,
Because I know you feel it, too.
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1 Comment

Poem #6, NaPoWriMo, named Supernatural

4/8/2017

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Poem #6:
Supernatural

About a week ago,
I heard the angels talking.
Your demon ray-gun bullshit
It doesn't work on me.
It's not your fault.
When god is righteous,
You get the hell out of the way.
You should forgive yourself.
Explaining freedom to angels
Is like explaining poetry to fish.

You are not alone,
Is all I'm trying to say.

(Compiled from viewing the TV series, Supernatural)
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Original Poetry: The Fall

7/16/2015

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a bird fell out of a tree

and landed at the side of the highway

I tried to ignore what I'd seen

but I guess I became the bird that day

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battered and broken, I lay there and plea

for the will and the way

to make it all okay

for dreams shatter everyday

they're crushed, like the bird who fell out of the tree

for the bird, I fear 'twas the end

a final fall into oblivion

the hurts too much to mend

its own personal Armageddon

it ended with a soft thud

I keep seeing the poor beast's downward descent

his fast fall to finality

brought about by an innocuous wind,

which wasn't even in the forecast that day

I don't want to be that bird

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when life hands you shit,

write poetry

and carry on!

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NaPoWriMo, Day 25... Missed a couple;)

4/25/2015

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In Honour of Earth...

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in awe of Her great beauty

but I see it on a screen-

that separates me

from what's real

what I see

makes me scream

stop the insanity!

Let Her be in love & peace

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Day 10 - An Exaggeration

5/30/2014

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Still worse than bad and badder than worse

Before it gets better, you can bet your purse!

Sun dogs and Solar halos may be heaven-sent

But all still part of a different argument.

Over and over for many an eternity;

So many cycles about the same shit patty.

Refractions down low and some way up high;

Reflections of the demon in the mirror lie.

Who is wrong? Who is right?

Does it matter? Why do we fight?

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A Picture Poem for Spring...

4/17/2014

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The Day Before NaPoWriMo....

3/31/2014

1 Comment

 
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MARCH 31, 2014
Get set . . .
From: http://www.napowrimo.net

Tomorrow is the first day of NaPoWrimo. I hope you are feeling excited and inspired.

Today’s poetry resource is the Big Poetry Giveaway. Now in its fifth year, the Giveaway celebrates National Poetry Month by giving participants the opportunity to get books of poetry, for free!

I know that by the time I post the first “official” prompt, it will already have been April 1 for a while in some parts of the world, so here is an extra little prompt (totally optional — as all our prompts are) for those of you who are experiencing NaPoWriMo earlier than me.

The prompt for all you early birds is an ekphrastic poem – a poem inspired by or about a work of art. There’s no rules on the form for an ekphrastic poem, so you could write a sonnet or a haiku or free verse. Some well-known ekphrastic poems include Rilke’s Archaic Torso of Apollo and Keats’ Ode on a Grecian Urn. But ekphrastic poetry is alive and well today, too, as your efforts today will reflect.

Happy writing!


Day 0 - The First Day of MY New Year

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5 down,
A countless many
left to go.
Just gotta start
with the first step.
ALWAYS START WITH THE FIRST STEP - because it just makes sense.

Happy #1, then keep going.
KEEP GOING! Stop writing and just DO IT!
There, 5 more.
Take a break. 
Think about the next step.
There's always a next step,
Even if it's backwards.
But, can't take away what is already done.

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Go backwards
sometimes - just for sh1ts & giggles -
Revisit,
Reflect,
Re-do.
Switch it  up.
Look differently.
Start at the bottom, climb to the top, or start at the top and run to the bottom: FastStep    sloooooow step     big step   little step

Look at what has been accomplished!
All those steps - well done!

Another 5 - should I stop or should I go?
I will raise my bar.... another 5...
The sky's the limit & the season is long.
Easy peasy.

There'll be time enough for counting when the stepping's done.

(60 steps up & 60 steps down,
20 times all together,
equals 1,200 steps & a 130 or so words, equals 1 poem & a happy body)

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For a complete list of FAQs, visit www.NaPoWriMo.net, owned by 
Maureen Thorson, a poet living in Washington, DC. She started writing a poem a day for the month of April back in 2003, posting the poems on her blog. When other people started writing poems for April, and posting them on their own blogs, Maureen linked to them. After a few years, so many people were doing NaPoWriMo that Maureen decided to launch an independent website for the project. 

How do I participate in NaPoWriMo?
Easy! Just write a poem a day for the month of April. You can post them on the internet. You can hide them in a notebook. You can make up a special book just for yourself out of them. Really, all you need to do is write a poem a day for the month of April.

If you choose to post your work on the internet, you can submit your website for inclusion in our online roster of participants. See the “Submit Your Site” link above.


1 Comment

Capturing Real Life

3/30/2014

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Day 1 – 30 Days, 30 Poems – #NaPoWriMo

4/1/2013

1 Comment

 
UNCERTAINTY

the wind whips

but the sun shines

the fingers freeze

but the heart is heated

as I think of you

am i a fool?

a failure?

or an unfortunate finder?

who still seeks solace?

forever have faith

that it will be that

what it should be

at a time when the universe is aligned

all ducks in a row

my time is now

shake out the creaky fingers

look into my heart

find all I need

you are there

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1 Comment

Remembering My Grandparents

5/31/2011

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I SPENT A LOT OF TIME WITH MY GRANDMA AND GRANDPA NESKAR, MY MOTHER’S PARENTS.  THEY HAVE BOTH PASSED AWAY, BUT THE MEMORIES REMAIN.  MY GRANDPA PASSED ON NOVEMBER 15TH, 1995 ON THEIR ANNIVERSARY.  MY GRANDMA, AFTER MANNY YEARS OF MISSING HIM, JOINED HIM IN AUGUST, 2008.  IT IS ACTUALLY MY GRANDMA WHO FIRST BECAME INVOLVED IN FRIENDS IN GRIEF, AS IT HELPED HER DEAL WITH THE LOSS OF HER BELOVED HUSBAND.   THEY ARE BOTH MISSED VERY DEARLY.
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This story with written 15 years ago, by a 17 year old me (Nicola Schneider, 1996) …

My Grandpa

When I think of my Grandpa I think of many things, but my earliest memory would be sitting on his lap, “helping” him do his word-search puzzles.  In actuality, I often, well… most of the time, found the words first.  We’d sit for hours on his brown cushy rocking chair in the far corner of the living room, circling word after word after word.

From that same rocking chair, my Grandpa would watch people and birds through his binoculars.  He liked people.  He could talk for hours about anything from baseball to the bump on his forehead.   

Oh, the bump on his forehead.  That’s a story he enjoyed telling!  “Grandpa,” I’d ask, “how did you get that bump on your forehead?”

“This here bump?” he’d say, pointing to that familiar lump, “I’ll tell you… You hit me in the head with a sledge-hammer and ever since, I’ve had this huge goose egg!”

“No, Grandpa!  I didn’t,” I’d reply, giggling.

“Oh, yes,” he’d insist.

I always knew he was teasing for he had a kind, gentle way about him.  It was he, my Grandpa, who first taught me to skate.  Every Sunday, we’d head over to the arena where I’d slide a little on my skates, and even more frequently on my backside.  But he’d always lift me up and guide me around the rink, until one day I could skate, all by myself!

Now, I think of my Grandpa whenever I go skating.  He has recently passed on but he will live continually in the hearts of those who loved him, and especially in my heart.  He will live on as he once was – not staring blankly or napping motionlessly in his rocking chair – but working on a word-search or peering through his binoculars… like he did when I was a child.

This was also written at that time by Me for an English Writer’s Craft assignment, Grade 12.  It is loosely based in reality.  I think I was going back to when I was younger.  My Uncle, whom I loved dearly, died and my younger brother and I didn’t really understand what that meant.  So, years later, when Grandpa died, I wrote this.  I knew that Grandma was really sad because she missed her husband terribly …
What’s wrong with Grandma?

Grandma was crying.  Grandma never cries, or at least never before this.

Grandpa is gone.  That’s what Mommy told me.  Gone where?  I don’t exactly know but everyone is sad.  I don’t understand why.  Mommy and Daddy said he went to a better place; a place where he could be happy.

But why didn’t he take Grandma?  He never goes anywhere without her.  I think that’s why Grandma is crying.  Poor Grandma.  I’d let her come with me.

“Mommy,” I whispered, resting my head against her arm, “when is Grandpa coming back?”

“That’s when Mommy started to cry.  “Mommy?” I said.  I was very confused.  Why was Mommy crying?  Did she want to go with Grandpa, too?

Then Daddy said, “Pumpkin, Grandpa is not coming back.”

“Not ever?” I asked tearfully.

“No, I’m afraid not,” he answered, “but you must always remember that he loves you even though he is not with us.”

“Does he still love Grandma, too?” I asked, “And Mommy?”

“Of course he does, Pumpkin,” reassured Daddy.

Now Mommy had stopped crying.  Her eyes were red and puffy, her face pale.  She looked really sad.  She told me that Grandpa went to a very lovely place in the sky where he can look down over us all, especially Grandma.  One day, Grandma will join him there and they will be together again, but it is not time yet.

I pondered this for a while and realized that I still didn’t know where Grandpa had gone so I turned and asked Daddy.  He said that Grandpa went to the same place as Mr. Orange, my pet fishy, and our cat, Scat Cat.  You see, I found Mr. Orange sleeping on top of the water, one day.  Mommy and Daddy told me that he had passed away and they flushed him down the toilet after saying some kind words about him.  We didn’t flush Grandpa down the toilet so I don’t see how they could be in the same place.

Scat Cat was our old grey cat.  (Not ours, really.  He lived outside.  Mommy and Daddy said he had no home.)  I always thought that Scat Cat was a stupid name for a cat but that’s what Mommy and Daddy always said to him when they saw him in our backyard.  But they always left him food and sometimes they let me feed him milk.  I loved Scat Cat.

One day, Scat Cat did not wake up.  Mommy and Daddy said that he had died, just like Mr. Orange.  We did not flush Scat Cat down the toilet, he was too big, same as Grandpa.  Scat Cat was buried in our backyard.  Maybe Grandpa will see Scat Cat.Just then, my five-year-old cousin, Stevie came over to me.  “Vickie,” he asked, “why is Grandma crying?”

“Because Grandpa is gone,” I answered.

“I know.  Mommy told me,” he said, “but where did he go?”

I told him how Grandpa went to a really nice place in the sky where he can look down over all of us and how Scat Cat was keeping him company.

“But I want to see Grandpa,” said Stevie.

“Me, too,” I said.  “Daddy says we can see him in the memories we have in our heads.

“Oh,” said Stevie, as he walked back to his mommy, my Auntie Lillian.

Daddy came over and said, “I heard what you told Stevie.  It was the right thing to say.  I think you helped him a lot.  I’m proud of you, Pumpkin, for being such a big girl.”

“But Daddy, I still don’t understand any of this.  I don’t know where Grandpa really is and I don’t like it when Grandma is sad,” I complained.

“It’s okay, Vickie.  One day, you’ll understand,” he said.  “Just know that Grandpa is okay and Grandma will be happy again.”

“Okay Daddy,” I said as he kissed me and then he left to comfort Mommy.

I ran over to Grandma and gave her a hug.  “I love you, Grandma,” I whispered.

THIS POEM WAS WRITTEN A COUPLE OF YEARS AGO, AS I LOOKED THROUGH OLD PHOTO ALBUMS… REMEMBERING….
JUST A DAY, ANY DAY, AT GRANDMA's & GRANDPA's HOME

GRANDMA IS IN THE KITCHEN. 
GRANDPA IS IN THE SHED.
THE SUN SHINES.  WARMTH ENTERS THROUGH THE WINDOW PANE,
CURTAINS FLUTTERING IN THE BREEZE,
WHICH BLOWS IN THE SMELL OF FRESHLY CUT GRASS.
GRANDMA IS ROLLING OUT DOUGH.
GRANDPA IS BANGING A HAMMER.
WE WANT TO BE IN TOO MANY PLACES AT ONCE.
THE LEGOS HOLD OUR ATTENTION FOR A WHILE,
BUT INEVITABLY, WE ARE
IN THE KITCHEN WITH GRANDMA, OR                                                                                               
OUT BACK WITH GRANDPA.

SNACK TIME… WE RETREAT TO THE LIVING ROOM TOWATCH OUR FAVOURITE TV SHOW (MR. DRESS-UP).
GRANDMA BRINGS OUR SNACK:  APPLES CUT INTO PERFECTLYBITE-SIZED PIECES, 
PREPARED WITH THAT SPECIAL LOVE ONLY
GRANDMA CAN GIVE, FOLLOWED BY  THE HEAVENLY CRUNCHY
HOMEMADE CHOCOLATE CHIP COOKIES.  THE STRAINED,
PULP-FREE OJ WAS THE PERFECT ACCOMPANIMENT.

GRANDPA COMES IN AND WASHES UP.
THERE’S NO WAY HE’S MISSING SNACK TIME!
AFTERWARDS, IT’S BACK TO WORK,                                                                                                 
AND PLAY.
INSIDE, IN THE KITCHEN, THE DOUGH HAS BEEN FILLED
AND IS READY FOR THE OVEN.
OUTSIDE, THE LAWN MOWER HAS BEEN FIXED
AND GRANDPA CONTINUES HIS LAPS AROUND THE LAWN.
THE CHILDREN PLAY AS ONLY CHILDREN CAN… 
“LET’SPRETEND; LET’S PLAY CHASE!”THEY ARE AS BUSY AS THOSE UPSTAIRS.

(NICOLA SCHNEIDER, 2007)

GRANDMOTHER

IN HER DREAMS SHE IS NOT STUCK
ON THE SECOND FLOOR OF PRISON,
WHERE LIFE IS FROZEN FOR HER.
LIFE CONTINUES OUTSIDE HER WINDOW,
BEYOND HER MEANS.
IN HER DREAMS SHE IS FREE.
THERE IS NO CONFUSION.
SHE IS NOT TRAPPED INSIDE HER MIND.
HER GRANDCHILDREN ARE NOT SILENT TO HER.
THE WORLD IS WHOLE TO HER AGAIN.
SHE STANDS IN THE KITCHEN BAKING.             LOVE,
IN THE FORM OF COOKIES AND PEROGIES.
THE KITCHEN SMELLS OF TREATS TO COME.  
THEY ARE GOOD             FULL.

IN HER DREAMS SHE IS ON A TRAIN,
TRAVELLING TOWARDS A NEW LIFE
WITH THE MAN SHE LOVES
TO START A FAMILY OF HER OWN.

IN HER DREAMS SHE IS SURROUNDED BY HER FAMILY.
THERE IS NO CONFUSION,
NO STRETCHES OF LONELINESS.
HER GRANDCHILDREN ARE NOT SILENT TO HER.
THE WORLD IS WHOLE TO HER AGAIN.

SHE WALKS THROUGH THE HOUSE COLLECTING LAUNDRY           MEMORIES…
AND TAKING CARE OF THOSE SHE LOVES                FAMILY.
THE BREEZE SMELLS OF MEALS TO COME.
THEY ARE GOOD               FULL.

(NICOLA SCHNEIDER, 2007)

When we remember, they are still with us:)

Grandma experienced a sad decline in health for many years...
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Me & Grama
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Grama & Grampa - 50th Anniversary
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    Today is a great day to create a great day.

    This site is my attempt at gathering all of my creativity that I have strewn about out 'there'....

    © Nicola Schneider, iCreate, 2000-present. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Nicola Schneider with appropriate and specific direction to the original content. 

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    Everyday Art Every Day by Nicola Schneider is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International License.
    Based on a work at http://everydayarteveryday.weebly.com.

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