Writing Wings For You

Marie Lukasik Wallace ~ # I LIVE Poetry – I'm passionate about life and writing and all things creative and poetic!


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Chautauqua

“Chautauqua”-: Today, it is “experiencing a renaissance. People are discovering that lifelong learning is one of the keys to living a happy, fulfilling life.”   I am so grateful this word, and this experience entered my life!

So this summer, I had been struggling a little with identity as I quit my long term career path as a teacher.

I had wanted to be a teacher since I was a little girl.  I had the courage to go back to school as a young mom in my late twenties and began teaching as my second career.  Ah…I loved it!  But the demands as a teacher were more than I could do and still pursue my other dreams of writer and writing coaching, so I didn’t renew my contract.

Enter, new phase in my life.  I’ve ALWAYS worked, and now I got to trust what came next.  Granted, I was lost.  I felt I had lost my tribe and that I didn’t belong anywhere and that I was alone on my journey.  Enter, my friend, who is a counselor.  He was EXCITED about my new journey and said I was RIPE for discovery and he couldn’t believe all that was out there for me.  You should have seen his face, grinning ear to ear, as if he knew a secret that I didn’t know.  Then, add in to the conversation, I’m about to take a trip across America with my husband for two and half weeks, and I thought he would vault out of the chair, and the grin that I didn’t think could get bigger, took up his whole face.

That’s when he let me in on the secret of “Chautauqua.   The way he introduced it to me was that I go into my travels without any expectations.  Be open.  Be honest.  Enjoy.   Also, not to hold on to any specific outcomes.  I took all this to mean ABSORB.  My great mantra of #ILivePoetry was my first thought….treat each day as a poetic experience.  What do I see?  really see?  What if I stop and notice more?  What if I take pictures from the under sides of things?     What do I hear?  Songs of the cicada? Ocean waves?   What do I taste?  Are there new tastes? New food?  Old favorites in a new way?  Experience it all.

Being open to an experience and drinking….no GULPING it in is way different than just doing it.  I LIVED it.  I truly “lived poetry.”  My take on poetry is that it’s the best words, in the best order, in the tiniest of packages but the most explosive of moments.  I truly got to live my live.  Then suddenly, the worries diminish, life’s blessings show up in the most unusual ways.  I noticed things in ways and places I hadn’t before.

In the next couple of weeks, I will randomly post my experiences.  I thought I might go by towns and stops along the way…not sure how it will look, just sharing.  It will be poetry unfolding.   And as I showcase my experiences, you’ll see my definition of a Chautauqua.  Namaste my friends.


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Texture Tuesdays

I’ve been traveling across America, and I could hardly wait to get home and post for Texture Tuesdays with Narami.   I look forward to it every week, even if I don’t post. There are so many great things we see if we just pay attention and look closer, and there are a plethora of finds out there from State to State.  Posting along the way proved to be difficult with sparse to little internet.  KOA camps  try to have internet, but alas, their setup doesn’t always work but for maybe email.

The cool part is I should have enough pictures (over 5,000) to find something to meet the challenges for many Tuesdays to come!

Enjoy some of these pictures of landscape from Wyoming…truly one of the prettiest parts of the country from sunsets to wide open country, even the clouds are curiously shaped.   Have you ever seen anything so fluffy?  It looks like it came from a whipped cream can.   Have fun!

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I Live Poetry in the Winter Wonderland

1560774_10152951004361037_7093722779285139669_n  White Christmas in Idaho

Snowflake lace

captured on my tongue

Snow blankets covering

the countryside with its loveliness

Sparkly jewels glittering with the sun

I can see why they call it

Winter “WONDER” land

because it creates magic

wherever it goes.

I live poetry in the Winter Wonderland.


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The Messenger

tulip

The Messenger

Look out across

the massive field of

red bulbous tulips,

the same two foot tall structures

row after row.

And you,

lone tulip,

head held

one blossom

higher than

the others.

You,

face tilted

heavenward,

soaking in

God’s secret messages,

and piping them

to the earth.

You,

His messenger,

Remember this

When the sun

beats upon

your tiny shoulders

and you grow

weary of

it’s weight,

may you

find

the strength

to last

a little longer,

for the world needs your healing power.


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I Live Poetry

#‎Ilivepoetry‬

It’s poetry when you get to play
This little piggy went to the market
With your 77 year old father and he
Gets all excited for the wee wee wee
All the way home part.
(He does it by the third toe
and scares you.)
And then 2 days later hear
The same song is sung by a mom to
Her 2 year old and hear the child
Say “again, mama, again.”
And imagining your daddy
Being that 2 year old saying that to his mama.


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If We were Having Coffee – Coffee talk #3

coffee cup

If you and I were having coffee

I’d tell you that you were perfect,

perfect in all your perfections.

I love that you are raw and real

and honest with me.

It gives me permission to be myself.

If you and I were having coffee

I would just ask you how you are…

not some trite “How are you?” question

but a genuine, tell me how and who you are.

What makes your heart beat?

What gives you heart fireworks?

How do you LIVE?  More importantly,

how do you live POETICALLY?

You see, there is living,

and there’s LIVING.

Tell me about it.

~Namaste my friends.


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I Live Poetry – It’s about FOOD!

Poetry and food?   Think about it.  They are both guilty pleasures, so it stands to reason that they should definitely be in the same sentence.   As I was doing my ponderings today, I thought what fun it would be to imagine these two together.  So…first I did a list kind of poem of what would ‘color my palette” of food poetry.

Spicy Mexican food

thrills the tongue

lingering, but not sabotaging

teases enough to pant for another bite.

 

Icrecream

Creamy cold silk for ANY day.

soothes the throat

delights the taste buds

It’s very essence can shoot me back

to childhood

 

Big Red crème soda

Bubble gum delight

Fizzles and drizzles

Down my throat

For hot Texas days.

……MORE TO COME.    It’s just the beginning!

 

And coffee…my magical treat for any day of the week gets its very own poetry style, An Ode

Oh coffee, of coffee

you’re wonderful stuff,

coffee oh coffee  you

are wonderful stuff

you sooth me, move me, groove me.

Coffee snuggles with me and wraps its smooth brown blanket all around me, never wanting me to be cold.  He’s a warm invitation and a smooooooth conversation.  I can be myself with him.  With him by my side, what else could I want?

(I realize it needs some work…but I’m putting it out there to let you know as Anne Lamott says, it’s okay to write the worst crap…it grows a great garden!  The fact is…I’m writing!  And you can too!)

 

WRITING PROMPT:  What food would you write an Ode to?   I can’t wait to read what you write!

Here is what an Ode is:   The word ode derives from the Greek word meaning poem intended to be sung – in essence, singing praise.  Odes use exaggerated language, taken to the extreme.

What ODES do to assist a Writer:   Because Odes use extreme language, it allows a writer to overexaggerate and take things over the top…in other words, “LET GO.”   Those who have trouble with their Inner Critic being too critical or get stifled in their writing can use an Ode to get out of the rut.   It’s meant to be outrageous, even gaudy…and causes humor.  Don’t we all need a chance to not take ourselves so seriously?

EXAMPLES : Pablo Neruda wrote odes to his socks, odes to lemons, odes to broken things and many more.   Here is one of my favorites and it’s about food!  ODE TO AN ONION.     You’ll enjoy another food one by Barbara Crooker as well: Ode to Chocolate, especially the personification at the end of it.   John Keats has a popular one called Ode to a Grecian Urn.

Happy writing friends!


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POETRY COLLABORATION – I Remember…

What a beautiful treasure trunk of memories created here.  Please feel free to add your memories to the comment section.  Our memories are too precious to forget!  Our latest contributions has pictures!  Don’t forget to click the links back to the poets.  They have AMAZING blogs for voracious reading!

I remember strapping on metal roller skates and racing down the driveway.
I remember Big Red and Pop Rocks and chicken bone candy and Now or Laters being the big rage.
I remember Firemen picnics mixing all the flavors into a horrid concoction but loving it anyway because we seldom got to drink soda and we’d get sick.
I remember driving “go-carts” my daddy made in the store parking lots because stores were closed on Sundays.
I remember….

Hands held over the years,
Sometimes the distance stretched. . .
Other times, the ties held strong.
His strength carried her through,
Her conscience flowed through his mind.
I remember when I was a child~
How looking at their hands held tight,
Gave me hope, warmth and courage.
(To become the woman I am today.)

I remember our stickball streets,
shooting marbles, double-dutch feats..
Old truck tires that became swings,
playground races on monkey rings.

Water balloons we threw for fun,
on warm summer days in the sun.
Lemonade stands, penny candy,
Bazooka gum, always handy.

Raking leaves up into a pile,
to dive headlong as we all smiled.
Climbing into colorful trees,
an iron-n patch on my jean’s knees.

Blizzard snows that closed all the schools,
eating icicles, the eaves jewels.
Out all day until toes were numb,
sipping pretend Hot Buttered Rum.

I recall all seasons of life,
loves and losses, darkness and light.
Investments in who I’ve become,
reminders of life’s battles won.

I remember each song like it was a day,
Music to fit the moments
Happy or bittersweet
And they way the earth smelled with each thought
Of those days.
I remember I stood behind the house,
Summer smells filling my nose,
Warm summer air beating down on me,
In the distance the fire sirens calling
Lunch time, lunch time.
Skies so blue going on forever,
The sounds of cicadas covered the air with their droning lullaby
Fighting it with the sirens,
I was alone and six,
I looked back to see you smiling at me
As you stood watching in the kitchen window.
You came out shortly after,
Holding out your hand as if to say come
Let’s go together
Walking through grasses high
I remember that day
For it was the day
The earth sang to us
And I’ve not known a day of such perfection
Since.
I remember and smile.

Walking down the memory lane

Heard a knock at the past life gate

From a bouquet of memories I have to pick one

There were testing times, life was never only fun

Met with challenges, overcame, shone bright as sun

Sleeting to be broken, dig deeper to find disturbing ones

Let those buried there, I will only talk about the happy ones

 

Well, here comes the most memorable moment of my life

A moment of pride, the ultimate bliss of wife

When my eldest son arrived in the world

So accomplished, blessed, complete I felt

Excitement at peak, wishes were being pelt

All my worries, anxiety and the pain melt

 

Oh, It was  25th Dec. holy  Christmas day,

A chubby, cute JESUS was born, healthy and gay

Doctors, nurses, patients, care takers

Along with relatives, friends and sisters

All came one by one to bless the newly born

“Little JESUS has arrived on Christmas !” they said

Celebrations started bang on !

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My husband was thrilled, looked never so happy

trying to hold, touch and feel his precious baby

My mom in law glowing, talking and sharing her observations

Nose like mother, lips like father, while she checked body formations

My parents dancing, distributing sweets, mailing friends out of station

Lying on the bed relaxed, silently I watched them

Jubilant as well as cautious, I held my little gem

Tears rolled down from my eyes, on the cheeks

I was a mother now, a responsible person to speak

Yes ! It is a blessing from God, to give birth to a life

I remember the journey of being a mother from a wife

So good,  full of love, so rewarding and  away from strife.

Writing Wings For you – MeReocochran Witless Dating After Fifty The Poetry Channel – Michael,  Peace, Love and Patchouli (Infinite Zip) – KimSoul n Spirit

writingwingsforyou's avatarWriting Wings For You

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Well my friends, you’ve asked, and here it is.  Our next Poem Collaboration will be:   I REMEMBER

What I love about this open ended topic is that we can write endlessly from any point of our lives.  I can write a stream of consciousness without stopping, any memory that comes to me or focus on a specific age.   No rules!

So here’s how to participate:.   Just as before, you can add your contribution in the comment section of this poem,  & I will place them in the order they come as soon as I possibly can. I will put your name (contributor)  at the end of the piece in the same color as your contribution and the names will be in the same order as well.   In a week, I will post the collaboration as a whole.  (But we can always keep adding on!)  Happy writing! ~ Marie

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Friday Flower

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Fun Friday find in the Sawtooths.  Love the dewy frosting.


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Throwback Thursday – I am a Writer

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Sometimes, I need to remember:  I am a Writer.  This summer I got to LIVE and BREATHE writing, and it nourished my soul.  Yes, I remember soaking in the sunniness of it’s words and feeling it fill my body and created “I LIVE Poetry.”  Each day, I lived poetically with music and photography and art and just noticing…and my friends, I must say, I had never been happier.  I had to return to my job…which I love, but it IS a time sucker.   Soon I was in a whirlwind of meetings and have tos, instead of I want tos…and literally writing almost came to a screeching halt.  I pined for my artistic side to be fed…I remember noticing many things I wanted to sit and write about…but alas, my seat in the seat could not happen.  The best part was I understood it was temporary…

Last night, I got to enjoy a fabulous group of writers, and they reminded me of the beauty of words and the healing of words and yes, sometimes the mysteries and elusiveness of words.  I reveled in all that they shared.  Windows to souls…and I knew I wasn’t the teacher anymore, but a fellow participant who just loved what I was doing, ENGAGING in writing.

Writing, it has MAGIC POWERS…it can heal…it can bring joy.

Have a blessed day my friends.   And thanks to my buddy Michael, that sometimes it’s committing to just a few words a day.