We’ve all read articles that seem to be the same. This one was different. The suggestions seem to be tailor-made for all artists and creatives.
The first suggestion was exercise, but quickly shifted to connection to others through social media, and then followed creating art and writing a daily blog.
You are going to be pleasantly surprised by this article. It’s an idea motivator for starting your day. I plan to incorporate some of its ideas.
Let me know what you think.
Once in a Blue Moon lit up last night’s sky. Like everything in life, even though you may have been aware of its presence, you had to go looking for it. You had to actively participate in its being there.
I first went to my back yard, because it’s more isolated from neighborhood lights in the front. I couldn’t find the moon, so I had to go to the front lawn.
Over the corner of my garage’s roof, the moon was the brightest that I’ve ever seen. A circle of light around the moon appeared to widen the lens of light in the night sky. It was my imagination reset.
Blue Moon
Two moons this month
Sits on my roof corner
Biggest and brightest that I’ve seen
Inspires
Tweeting a quote from G. K. Chesterton about cheese last night stirred up a good exchange among some poets. Chesterton said, “Poets have been mysteriously silent on the subject of cheese.”
A few hastily threw out a challenge to stink up the place with our offerings. I will post my challenge-accepted poem here.
Cheese Curds and Whey
“Poets have been mysteriously silent on the subject of cheese. “–G.K. Chesterton
Remnants of early day cheese
Found amid the rubble and earth
Covered mounds of ancient villages
Near grand pillars of Stonehenge
Elevate cheese to regal food status.
Those villagers couldn’t stomach
Raw milk of their sheep and goat herds.
They did what anyone else would
have done today–forgot about it on
A shelf in a bacteria infused skin bag
Until it fermented into something else.
The grand new stench
Stirred up a search.
You have to admire the one who
Opened the bag, smelled its
Fermented curds and wondered
What it tasted like. Hungry and
Near starvation? Let’s taste it.
Bacteria and Milk—
Ancient love story
Pairs well with wine
Through multiple millennia.
The Poetry Writing class ended in April. That month always celebrates poetry reading and writing. We talked about posting a display of our work at the local library, but that didn’t happen. It did indicate that we were looking forward together.
On the last class day, we all agreed to continue meeting in our homes. Monthly seemed to be a small commitment compared to our weekly class. We wanted to continue writing and workshopping our poems. I knew it would motivate me to keep writing. I needed that.
We decided to alternate meeting in each other’s home. Since it was an evening meeting, we shared a meal and then shared our poems, discussing possible ideas for revision. We kept moving around and writing.
We eventually named our group The Great Rift Writers, after the Great Volcanic Rift in our local region of Southeastern Idaho. We continued meeting for about five years. We kept losing members as they moved from the region, but we did promote poetry in our area. I worked for Barnes and Noble Booksellers, and arranged an Open Mic Night once a month at the store. Members of the community were invited to read their works.
We added a few new writers to the group, but not enough to keep it going. One of my best friends today from that group is still writing and publishing his poems. I kept writing after leaving the group. I finally published my collection of poems this year after twenty-five years, Writing in Sand. It’s available now on Amazon. The hefty poetry tome ended up being 412 pages.
It took a couple years to find most of my poems–many from near-dead computer hard drives in my basement. I have to give credit to the Great Rift Writers for keeping me going early on a creative path that I’m still traveling. It’s hard to do anything alone initially.
How did you start writing consistently? What influenced your writing life? What motivated you to write? I’d love to hear from you. I’d like to hear from writers of other genres. Let’s promote writing together. This small space could influence a community of future writers.
#learningtowrite #poetry #writingcommunity
While teaching English to 9th Graders in the mid-1990’s, I read in my local newspaper a list of classes being offered by Community Education during the Spring Semester. A Poetry Writing class was being offered by Leslie Ovard, an Idaho State University instructor. I had been interested in writing for years, but now I had a method of writing that I wanted to explore.
The class was organized as a workshop. We would come each week with a poem, created from a writing prompt from the previous week. I started writing about what I knew– the mining industry in North Idaho. I am from Kellogg, Idaho, and my father’s family had immigrated there from Camborne, Cornwall. His grandfather had come to the area since the 1880’s, probably in the gold mining camps of Pritchard and Murray north of Kellogg.
On the first night of the class, I found that I was the only male who signed up for the class. I was not too surprised. The only reason why I mention it is that I seemed to be treated differently when we shared and commented on our weekly writings. My stuff seemed to be chewed up and spit out quicker than others.
I didn’t take it personally. It was more of a humorous highlight–more of a challenge. A few weeks in, one of the ladies brought it to the class’s attention that my writings seemed to be getting more negative comments. Actually, I used the comments as more of a personal insight. I spent more time editing and polishing my writings, knowing that they would be bulldogged. I used the comments to improve. However, after that comment, I did feel that I was more a part of the class.
I kept returning to mining themes for writing my poems. I always admired my Dad who spent his whole working life as a hardrock miner. He was proud to be a Mainline Motorman. I wanted to memorialize his life’s work in poetry. My writing grew from a chore of completing a weekly assignment to a love of finding my writing voice. Having a real goal improved my results.
My mining poems were eventually gathered together and self published as my first Chapbook in 2004. The title of that first work was Miner Moments. I only hand-sold less than ten copies. I gave away more copies to family and friends than I sold. My pay was in thank-you’s. I’m reminded of Henry David Thoreau’s comment after publishing Walden: “I have now a library of nearly nine hundred volumes, over seven hundred of which I wrote myself. Is it not well that the author should behold the fruits of his labor?”
When l published my 25-year collection of poetry in January of 2022, Writing in Sand, I included all my poems from Miner Moments. I’m still proud of that first Chapbook since it was dedicated to my Dad.
My next post will continue my writing journey in poetry. What happened after the writing class? How did it change my writing life?
What are you most proud of in your life? If you are a writer or a poet or another creative, what got you started? How did you go about finding your voice in writing or creating? I love sharing stories. None are too small to hear.
amazon.com/author/williampeterspoet
I’m excited to say that two of my new poems were published today on Fevers of the Mind. One is a memory from my childhood and the other is a Summer memory from a sweltering July evening in Idaho.
https://feversofthemind.com/2022/09/12/2-poems-from-william-peters/?s=09
This morning was a poet’s dream for me. Two poem subjects bubbled to the surface. Within a span of an hour and a half, I had completed two new poems. One came from a childhood memory and the other came from seeing a puzzle carved into a tombstone in Ontario Canada.
Steven King once observed that poems are written with the unconscious mind. I read that quote after writing the poems. I felt as though lightning had struck the ground in front of me. Those two poem subjects kept returning to my mind. I kept saying, How, and they found a way.
I’ll share my childhood memory poem.
Padding My Resume
I can remember
Being flight captain
Of my own rocket
At the early age
Of eight years
Five months
I had few problems
Visiting other worlds
With a limitless supply
Of special rocket fuel
And maintenance free
Rock knobs and stick levers
On my Navigator Control Panel
Seating was primitive
On my scaffolding
Support beam
Hanging
Over a ditch
Of a forever
Dismantled outhouse
I have just been notified that I will be on Eat the Storms Poetry Podcast this Saturday. The Podcast originates from Ireland at 5 PM. The Podcast should broadcast locally at 10 AM MDT OR 9 AM PDT. From the list of poets, I may be first on the program.
I am deeply honored to read my work on the podcast. I will be reading from my recently published 25 year collection of my poetry. The book Writing in Sand is available on Amazon.
#StayBloodyPoetic
Writing in Sand 
You must be logged in to post a comment.