Inspiration Interpretation

I squeezed a post out forced it pushed it through the bars, like prison escapee... It didn't feel right- but then, good things never do. Tortured souls have far more to write far more to explore, more to complain, more to hang on to diving deep into inspiration, harbor seal searching for nourishment in the ocean For some reason, anger, depression and struggle translate more into promising poet Less trite, more feeling. How do I phrase something that can't be put to words? How each time I stare at you, if I allow myself to, I will cry tears of delight at how you've changed my life, how you've shown me what it is to really love a deep inconsolable, unchangeable love. How do I tell you without cheesy-cheese fluff stuffing, coming out at the seams BLECH- Nobody wants to read happy!! This is what my mind shouts I used to scorn at these types of writing hated using the word "love" Oh really? I'd think... This is all you have? This is the only way to describe how...

It blows in the wind practically transparent standing up on end it can't be tamed won't be contained.... Your hair so golden in the sun as to almost be translucent the light catching it like fine threads of golden silk glowing radiating the light back at me They tell us it will grow better just cut it, it will... but to part with this piece of you which is so uniquely yours would be stealing a bit of your childhood your babyhood right out from under you. I refuse to be that one. I revel in your crazy hair, your stand on end, do what it wants hair your still-not-a-ponytail's worth of hair your rooster reminder hairdo... your lightest shade of brown duck fluff your tangle of snarls that stick to your head half rubbed off on the back where you sleep, front and bottom and sides so much longer your own style... You had it right from the beginning. I bury my face in it and promise, I whisper to you I'll let it be yours, that infantile oh so precious style, until I can't g...

If I could fly I'd swing myself so high I'd flip Right over the bars, flip, right out into the sky just to watch the shocked eyes when I didn't crash to the ground. If I could fly I'd sprint forward, spring outward FLING myself out off the mountain, off the cliff, OUT into the open air, breathe in that most sacred of breeze the fresh the cool clean crispness of it all turn around, past the eagles, and fly right back to you, wind in my hair. If I could fly I'd hold you tight I'd take you out into the clouds OUT above the rainbows out beyond our eyesight where nothing can touch us Nobody can reach us Nothing could hurt us Being so high, flying away. I'd watch you laugh and cling to me Cling, like you do to my leg when I'm cooking but this would be better so free, you and me. If I could fly I'd float around when my legs got tired toes not touching the ground I'd take advantage of my new skill to replace that most fundamental of exercise. But most of...

Sprout, You are growing up so fast. I feel like lately, I have nothing else to write to think upon to wonder about but you and your exponential growth. It seems like every moment is so fleeting, so gone so fast, so beyond my grasp when we were RIGHT THERE just one minute ago. One second ago, you were just a thought... I remember, sprout holding my belly when times were tough, and we didn't know How we would make this work... We just knew we would. Because you were coming, and it was all up to us. The fight, the struggle, it meant more since you would be here Your Mommy- crying, I remember, couldn't find a job, pounding my head wondering why all of a sudden a growing bump meant I wasn't a good enough secretary I would be out for so long, so soon, nobody wanted it. My degree may as well have been a crumb, I offered it out but it was not taken- Not accepted. I felt rotted, wronged, failed and failing... I wanted to do what I needed to for you- but nobody would give me a chance...

This was a creative writing prompt I got from... Wait, can you guess it?! ... ....... CREATIVE WRITING PROMPTS ! I know, the name? Not so creative. In any case, I found their site the other day, and I like it. I figured maybe I could use some of their prompts to give myself a kick in the butt to start writing again. Because I love writing, I really do... But lately it doesn't just flow the way it used to. I figure getting back in the habit of doing it regularly is the first step to overcoming this battle-of-the-rut. The prompt is: Come up with ten images (endings, etc.) for the following prompt- "My home makes me think of..." Here's what I have this afternoon. (1) My home makes me think of singing silly songs, spinning and sailing and snuggling tight... A little girl who whispers to me as I tuck her in- "sleep tight"... (2) My home makes me think of dishes to do, dinners to make, floors that have not yet been scrubbed, and socks on the floor... (3) My home m...

Inspired by this quote: ♫ "Kids: they dance before they learn there is anything that isn't music." ~William Stafford Reality Rhythm By Jaden Brulotte 2-19-09 Rhythm, you feel it Moving in your toes, your fingers itching and rump-shaking Wiggle your wormy way while you wander around I can see you bump-bumping Bounce, bouncing off your princess chair, your carseat, our bed Chase-chasing a beat that I can't quite tune in to, Eyes alight with the pulse-pulse of your music... We would wonder at being so lucky, to hear that undertone the score to so many seasons of life, an orchestra of opulence, the choir of what can be... You feel the rhythm, but I can't find your beat-beat.

Ten Sticky Fingers By Jaden Brulotte 8-13-08 Ten sticky fingers reaching up at me dragging red fruit concoction across my white-white shirt but it doesn't matter when you gap-toothed grin at me... To be so young to be so innocent to be so vulnerable so trusting so ambivalent to what happens in the world while you explore, you remember, you soak up experiences like a sponge. you say hi you say bye-bye and today, you said "I love you". To melt my heart with three little words. To me- to be your guardian like those angels they say dangle overhead, they say watching, they say keeping us safe... It's the most important job that I will ever have- to tend to care to love and be there to hold your hand... and yes, even to say "NO" to shelter you from being hurt, to keep you from falling, like those tears that drip from the corners of your eyes when I say it, but someday you will understand... Someday, I will watch ...

Poetry Type of The Day: Quatern A Quatern is a sixteen line French form composed of four quatrains. It is similar to the Kyrielle and the Retourne. It has a refrain that is in a different place in each quatrain. The first line of stanza one is the second line of stanza two, third line of stanza three, and fourth line of stanza four. A quatern has eight syllables per line. It does not have to be iambic or follow a set rhyme scheme. FORMAT: line 1 line 2 line 3 line 4 line 5 line 6 (line 1) line 7 line 8 line 9 line 10 line 11 (line 1) line 12 line 13 line 14 line 15 line 16 (line 1) AGLOW By Jaden Brulotte For my baby girl :) 6-27-2008 Your smile just lights me up, aglow- Firefly casting your light to show Shadows and dark- where can I go? Before you, I just didn’t know. When I get lost and start to slow Your smile just lights me up, aglow- You lift me up from down below Make me laugh and cast out my woes. In rolls the winter, blasts of snow I’m ...