Wednesday, February 27, 2019

Dancing, Dancing… On Swollen Feet

In celebration of life and death, New York City wears her fanciest clouds. Silvery grays (with flashes of lightning) shroud the liveliest parts of Queens. In the Bronx, meteorologists can’t explain why snowflakes chant bachata music, or why a Wild Sister smirks and cackles at the sky while dancing, dancing… on swollen feet.

of a brother gone
storm and spill,
forever fueling
never-ending love.

about the poem…
- tomorrow marks the sixth anniversary of my little brother’s passing. He was 27-years-old. Today, while leaving the hospital (after hours and hours with radiology, oncology, ophthalmology, and some other ologies), someone was playing bachata music in the parking lot. It was my little brother’s favorite, so I danced a bit… and almost fell on my butt. The silliness of it all had me cackling madly, and thinking, I hope you are watching and smirking with me. I bet he was. You are, aren’t you?

on writing and living…
- chemotherapy is officially over for now (no need for unnecessary jinxing, right?) and then comes radiation therapy. When it comes to immediate side effects, radiation is a lot easier than chemo. So, let the healing nuking begin.

- this Sunday, I start hosting Telling Tales with Magaly Guerrero: a Pantry of Prose, on Poets United. For the 1st prompt, I plan to give participants the choice of taking a poem they have published online or in a book and turning it into a short story of 313 words or fewer. For my own contribution, I will take suggestions from you. So, go ahead, my Wicked Luvs, tell me which of my poems you would like to see reborn as a short tale. Get your choice from my Instagram word-garden. Don’t feel like surfing? No worries. Choose one of these: “Dark Stories Glittering” or “I See Perfection in the Mirror” or “Garden of Ink” or “Love Is the Flame” or “Trust the Dark”. Tell me why you want that particular choice.

linked to Poets United (cloud) and to Blogging Around with Rommy (week 7)

yep, he is probably still smirking like a lunatic

Saturday, February 23, 2019

Garden of Ink

Winter dies happily,

when spring dreams
a new garden

of ink, 
born out of me 
to grow on you.

the wee notes…
- in my bit of the world, February’s cold teeth continue to gnaw on flesh and bone and feels. Still, my soul senses the coming of Lady Spring, and the warmth in that knowing takes most of the terrible out of Old Man Winter’s bite.  
- for the Imaginary Garden (season your poetry), The Sunday Muse 44, and Poets United (poetry pantry 441). Go ahead, my Wicked Luvs. join the writing yum.

Wednesday, February 20, 2019

Easy Is Not Always Helpful for the Body or the Spirit

I spent the best part of an hour explaining to a helpful prosthetist why I did not want (or need) a compression stocking donner in my house. He kept on man-explaining to me how the easy-to-use device would make my life, um… easier.

“I have done this job for a very long time”, he told me. “You’ll be grateful later.”

“No”, I said to him. “I’ve known myself my entire life. If the donner is available, I will probably use it, even if I don’t need it. But not having one in my house will push me to stretch myself (literally). And my hands can use the exercise.” After a praiseworthy amount of glaring (done by me), he finally left me alone. And guess what? Putting on the stockings is not easy, but I feel like a boss every time I do it.

I am all for easier, if it truly benefits me. But sometimes, easy is a trap. My latest example involves taking a break from sharing short stories with you. It should’ve made things easier, right? Wrong. Since I spend all the time, I am supposed to be saving, forcing myself not to think about a story (or 3) I want to write and share.

So, easy dearest is getting a well-aimed kick in the teeth. On March 3rd, Ill start hosting Telling Tales with Magaly Guerrero: a Pantry of Prose, on Poets United.

Telling Tales with Magaly Guerrero will take place on the first Sunday of every month. As the subtitle suggests, it will be a prose prompt: fiction, memoirs, tales with life in them. I’m over the moon at the thought of writing prose with poets. It might not be easy at first, but I bet it’ll be mind-nourishing all the way to the end.

Wondering why I have a new blog? Well, that’s an easy one: my other site hasn’t been handling comments all that well. I tried fixing things but got no joy. So, this is a permanent blogging move. I discussed the future of the other site on this post. This is now my cyber-home. Glance at the sidebar. Start following. Miss nothing.

This is my response to week 6 of Blogging Around with Rommy: Have you ever relied on some off-beat ways to get you more motivated to tackle a big task? Yes, I most certainly have. What about you, my Wicked Luvs, have you ever?

an old photograph, but since it offers a pretty accurate representation of how I look and feel right after I am done wrestling my compression stockings, sharing this oldie feels really goodie đŸ˜€