I Am Tired…

…but still pushing for blooms.

My alarm woke me up at 5:00am. I took my medications and went back to bed—weeks of trying not to puke my guts out after taking my meds have helped me realize that sleeping an hour or two, after the morning doses, lowers their nauseating side effects. I got back up at 7 or so… my flesh and bones felt like a frozen lump of lead… I passed out again, and didn’t get up until noon…

I’m starting to feel rather sympathetic towards Spring. I’ve seen her trying her best to push Old Man Winter away—we’ve had a few days that kissed 70 degrees Fahrenheit, crocuses and tulips are starting to sprout, dogwoods are blooming, and the blue jay that steals my peppers has been making rounds… Spring is moving forward, even when she has to paddle through Winter’s ice.

True Spring will get here soon… then Summer’s heated kiss… But until Nature, my will (and manmade remedies) melt the ice out of my flesh and bones, I shall keep writing my-Self awake.

What have you been up to, my Wicked Luvs? How’s spring behaving in your bit of the world?

Tulip Sprout

Of the Art-Full Bits Birthed Out of My Friends’ Skulls and the Cruellest Month

I love celebrating the deliciously art-full bits birthed out of my friends’ skulls. If you share or sale your paintings, sculptures, dolls, photography, brews, crafts… online, and wish me to consider your works as companions for my April poetry, please leave a comment telling me so.

This is what I would need from you, if your art wants to dance with mine in April:
. A statement saying that you wish me to consider your art during my April poetry event
2. A link to the virtual space where I can see your art (i.e. shop, website, blog…)
* Because I delight in sharing quotes from my poems on Facebook and Instagram, please leave me your handles for those platforms (or the links to your profiles), if you wish me to tag you.

a wee note: I can’t guarantee that I will be able to use the art of each person who joins in—the Muse chooses what she chooses, and she doesn’t always care for my opinion. Also, please keep in mind that often, only a tiny element from the visual art makes it into the poem. Don’t laugh, my Luvs, last year an artist got upset because my “poem deviated from the innermost soul of [his] sculpture”. And when I removed the sculpture and the artist’s information from my blog, the individual in question went livid. One can never make everyone happy… or sane, methinks.

Dark Poem Bits for the Cruellest Month…

If you follow my page, you probably already know that my April will be bursting with poetry—13 poems here, and Rommy Driks and I are cohosting a 30 days of Micro-Poetry in April event on our Facebook pages: Kestril’s Rhythms and Groove and Magaly Guerrero, respectively.

I plan to base my daily Dark Poem Bits for the Cruellest Month on quotes provided by you, my Wicked Luvs. If this sounds like fun (and you haven’t done it already), do fly over to my page and leave me a quote (or three), which you would like me to reshape into micro-poesy.

Rommy’s Muse is also collecting inspiration. She wants some of your favorite song titles to craft into micro-poems. Visit Kestril’s Rhythms and Groove, and share the title of a tune (or thirteen).

P.S. If you aren’t on Facebook *waves at Debra, She Who Seeks* you can leave me your quotes here. I will share links to the poem bits here, so that you can delight in them.

P.P.S. Rommy is also offering to share your art with her April poetry. If you wish her to keep your work in mind, visit her blog and read Wicked Little Grooves for details.

P.P.S. Have you joined Dark Poetry for the Cruellest Month, 2016, yet? We’ll have cookies… and skulls… probably… *cough, cough, cough*

Chicas Guapas, by Mary Ann Farley“Chicas Guapas”, by Mary Ann Farley
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