Author: Candace

I am a reader, a writer, and a snapper of photos

Art 101

~ Candace ~ 4 Comments

Art 101

 

I join the group scattered around

the classroom, standing behind wooden easels,

brushes and paints laid out in perfect order.

A room full of adults with nothing else to do

at ten o’clock on a Thursday morning.

We are supposed to paint a rooster

following the step-by-step instructions of

the artist at the front of the room. A blank canvas

gazes back at me and I fantasize about turning

out a rooster-like creature, in bright blues and

greens, with bold eyebrows like Frida Kahlo,

challenging the rest of the class to imagine a

world where different is normal.

 

Get set . . .

Pondering Things at 2A.M.

~ Candace ~ 17 Comments

Pondering Things at 2 A.M.

 

There is something magical

about the contrast of black and white.

Something silent that makes you “feel”

rather than “see”.

Light and shadow.

Contrast and highlights.

Like in photography,

piano keys,

snow on bare tree limbs,

stars in a night sky,

…. and Oreos

 

Shhhhhhh…….Quiet, Please!

Snowflakes

~ Candace ~ 8 Comments

Snowflakes

 

We got a feeble amount of snow, overnight.

Not enough to make a snowman or even

a respectable snowball. It is trying valiantly

to cover the grass and the sidewalk, yet

only manages to look like powdered sugar

on a homemade apple cake. Children don’t

even bother to put on snowsuits – they know

there will be no sledding, today. But if you look

carefully, you will see the intricate patterns of

those scattered flakes and marvel at their sparkle,

like magic diamonds strewn across the yard.

 

Poetics: New Year Snow

Buried in Lies

~ Candace ~ 4 Comments

Buried in Lies

 

She tried not to lie, but the words tumbled so easily from her lips. She made promises she knew she would never keep. And she was sure no one would ever know.

It began when she was three, all three-year-olds lie, don’t they? It was just a little lie about a cookie. She really wanted that cookie, and everyone thought she was just so cute.

The lies got bigger as she got older, money missing from her mother’s purse, homework “lost” on the bus, her best friend’s misplaced earrings.

Now she would tell the biggest lie of all when she tells herself that those lies never hurt anyone. Here, lying in a satin lined coffin, with no one to mourn her death or shed a tear, alone with only a lifetime of lies for company, she whispered, “Bury me with the lies I told.”

 

Dverse Prosery Monday — Bury Me

These Times

~ Candace ~ 13 Comments

These Times

 

I roll my eyes and clench my fists –

watch the news until I can endure no more.

Truth has abandoned society and

left us with madness.

It is the worst of times.

Then the hoot of a barred owl in the woods

calls me to leave it all behind, to

sit outside, to bathe in moonbeams

and breath deeply.

It is the best of times.

 

Poetics: Building from the Broken

 

New Rules for Writing Poetry

~ Candace ~ 3 Comments

New Rules for Writing Poetry

 

Go to a library

Find an old book

The well- read kind with

a tattered cover and dog- eared pages

Gently shake it over a blank sheet of paper

until it has no more words to give

Spread the loose word evenly

Fold the paper into a crane and let it fly away

Wait

When the crane returns open it and read its poem aloud

Turn it into a small boat

Set it adrift on the current of dreams encircling the universe

 

Tell Me

~ Candace ~ 1 Comment

Tell Me

 

Don’t tell me about your new car

with its fancy dashboard and back up camera.

Don’t tell me about your latest trip to

some foreign country with beaches and sunshine.

Don’t tell me how long you waited in the drive-thru

line for your morning latte.

Tell me instead about birdsong in the morning,

the male goldfinches singing their hearts

out, dressed in their brightest yellow feathers.

Tell me about the row of orange and pink

Zinnias, planted especially for bees and butterflies.

Tell me how much you care about this old planet

with all its light and darkness, its joys and sorrows.

Tell me the stories of its creation and the hope for its future.

Tell me love stories about you and me.

—

Day 22 of Poem a Day at Writer’s Digest