Poetry is nearer to vital truth than history ~ Plato

Saturday, April 25, 2015

Sneak Peek ~ NaPoWriMo

As I rifle thru notebooks and remember travels and new friends fondly, the concept for my upcoming collection was inevitable.  What better time to share it than the final week of Poetry Month.

"Home is the Place You Take With You" is an on going work in progress, and will continue to be until I get these ruby slippers to show me their magic. At the same time, this adventure has shown me what an incredible country I live in, and what amazing friends there are to be found.

Throughout it all, I've carried home with me. It's given me the strength to make this journey possible.

I look forward to sharing my travels with you, and hope you'll join me on the road.

Happy Poetry Month

Friday, April 24, 2015

TGIF ~ The Joy is in the Struggle

We are, if anything, a species that will attempt, at all cost, to defy our nature.

In this era of social media, we are bombarded by updates of the most mundane nature. My timelines, in particular, seem to have fathomless depths of complaint and discontentment.  I confess I've "unfollowed" a great number of people based on their tone. There seems to me to be way too many who find themselves overwhelmed and put off by the most trivial of things.

There is not a creature I can think of who does not struggle every day for the simple reward of survival. The smallest minnow in the tiniest of streams struggles against currents continuously, fins constantly resisting the natural flow of its waters.

With struggle, comes achievement. Overcoming obstacles, no matter how small, is a win. Our currents may change, but like that tiny minnow, we determine if we should stay or go. We need to once again honor survival. The strength of getting by. 

When we honor our own achievements, it reminds us to honor others. We are all fighting different currents of different strengths, but we are all fighting, daily. Never forget the joy of overcoming and how that joy is multiplied when you help others do the same.

To each and every one of you who makes it through today, I applaud you.

Love yourself, love your neighbours, and make the most out of those rapids. 


Eyes Shut ~ NaPoWriMo

Do you grow tired, like me
Laying here dreaming
Of all we'll never be?
Is that why our conversations have turned
Down that strange and lonely road
Where we said we'd never go.
There is such a thing
As a silence that has grown too comfortable.
Where words unsaid
Remain in your head
And its shadows make it too easy to hide.
I'll write, you'll sigh
We'll fight, I'll cry
We'll live, we'll die
And maybe that's what sends us to these silent corners
Where memories linger like ghosts
And nostalgia taints the facts
We can't go back
No matter how hard we squeeze our eyes shut
Counting the stars that sparkle
In our now separate universe
Repeating the wish
We've had since our beginning.

Natasha Head

Thursday, April 23, 2015

Who am I? ~ NaPoWriMo

Who am I to call myself a writer? That I manage to ink a few poorly chosen words to a drug store note book certainly does not make it so.

I see the young ones; so cocksure, chests puffed up with bravado, stealing phrases from the greats like they're their own. How does one come to this place? Surely there's more to it than mothers who over caudal? 

Perhaps it's a case of them hiding it better. This weight that comes over you at the thought of a stranger's eyes falling on your work, or even worse, someone you know.
Maybe, like me, they simply put it out there and let the chips fall where they may.  So sick of doubting themselves, they've already figured out we've nothing left to lose.

You can't put an expiration date on a dream, but you know as well as I do, we're all headed for the casket.

Natasha Head