want to start a writing club. you in?

Bliss

Thu, Jan 06 2011, 7:33 pm

sneakermom wrote:

Mommy do you hear me?
I have been looking for you -
the whole world over.
I have turned over every rock,
tracked every star.
I have searched for you in crowds,
prayed that you would return.
That you would explain.
Why you hurt me.
Why you abandoned me.
I loved you so.
I sit here quietly
waiting for you to return.
The mother of my infancy.
The mother I once knew.

The witch that emerged from you,
Is not the mother I once knew.
This shaming woman,
scheming and conniving,
that worked to break me
piece by piece.
While smiling to the world,
telling them how much you love me.

Why mother, why are your jealous,
when I look good...
Why do your eyes flash in rage?
And when people turn to see me,
glad to greet me.
Why do you connive to move them away
from me? Always.

I see the things you do, mommy.
I see how you use your power to hurt.
You seek to bring people into your trusting embrace...
vulnerable people who seek your help.
And you take them apart, bit by bit.
I see the evil of your ways.
The selfishness of your existence.
And there is nothing I can do.
Except watch, and be silent.

Why are there things that transpired between us,
that can't come out of my lips?
That hurt me always, and shame me into silence.
Why do I hold onto that?
Is it my last hope of holding onto you?

You have demeaned me, and I have accepted that.
And with just one look at me....you know it's still there.
But....
You were shocked, when I let go of you.
You did not see it coming.
The nerve. I had. The chutzpah.
To hurt you....as you say.
To see through the lies, the abuse.
And to get out.

I miss you mommy. The one I once knew.
But alas....that mother
knew me only when I belonged to her.
A dependent infant in the infatuated mother's arms.

And now that I'm grown.
It's the jealousy and urge to shame,
that flashes in your eyes.
And behooves you....
to do everything in your power
to take me back.
Where you believe, I belong.

I am gone, mother.
I will never come back.
I have much to learn.
and unlearn.
I struggle.
And often I am afraid.
But I'm alive.
I can feel, I can see.
I exist. For real.
And so grateful for that.

Oh daughter dear, I'm sorry for those years of fears and tears. I'm glad you found the strength to pick yourelf up, dust yourelf off, and continue on.

↑ robynm ↓

Thu, Jan 06 2011, 7:52 pm

keep it up
I cant tell
as you walk by
and we all pretend
that nothings changed
that alls the same
yet you dont say hi
or even
look me in the eye

keep it up
I cant tell
as you talk
behind my back
and gossip
about lies
that youve made up
and spread around
for all to hear

keep it up
I cant tell
as you mock
my choice in life
when was it even mine to make
but blame is mine
and so is shame
no matter what
is real or fake

keep it up
I cant tell
as you block
my every move
preventing me
from going on
to recover
and gather
all that I have lost

keep it up
I cant tell

auntie_em

Thu, Jan 06 2011, 8:36 pm

sunshine! wrote:

The children’s laughter wafted through the air evoking poignant memories of days gone by. Now a haggard bent old man, I painfully make my way to the sturdy park bench where I spent the better part of my day reminiscing, the frolicking children lending a pleasant background to my wandering thoughts.
…..The year is 1938. I am one of the small children frolicking in the heat of the summer sun of New York City. Clad only in a pair of shorts and a T-shirt I run and play in the wide expanse of Central Park. The ice man comes by jingling his little bell, “Shaved Ice 5¢ a cup.” My mouth waters as I head for his cart.
…..It’s 1946. Not quite a little boy anymore, I am all packed up to fulfill the American Dream of a solid education. Bidding a fond farewell to my loved ones, I board the train leading to the University…and the unknown.
……June 1952. Graduation Day. The greatest moment in my life was finally here. I stood on stage beaming proudly as my diploma was handed to me with flourish. Applause could be heard through the audience…Congratulations, you’re a Doctor.
…….It’s 1954. My small medical practice has flourished and grown. I started a free clinic that offered vaccines against the dreaded disease of Polio.
…….1955…Wedding bells are ringing, confetti is flying through the air, and I am a proud groom, dancing in excitement. Congratulations pour forth as the merriment continues well into the night.
………..I am awakened from my reverie by a ball that bounced just inches away from me. It rolled under the bench I was sitting with a small boy in hot pursuit. Giggling he bent under the bench to retrieve it. He withdrew and turned to go back to his game. Suddenly, he turned back, his freckled face breaking out into a radiant smile. “Hello Mister” he said, and with that he was off. I sat there on that lonely park bench, but the day had suddenly become a whole lot brighter.

Sunshine, I really liked this! Is it based on someone you know? I especially liked the part I bolded. The visual for me was clear as a photo.

I think I'm in. I might wait for the next topic though.
I don't know if the forum would need to be locked, but it would be nice to be able to have seperate threads for topics, poetry, short stories, etc.

↑ tsiggelle

Fri, Jan 07 2011, 3:12 am

from after brias haolam
untill the very day
and further too, be'ezras Hashem.
jewish children,
have been learning the holy Torah
with their fathers and rebbes, lovingly teaching them.

the men with the sefer torah, and their manuscripts,
the women too, with their kitchen utensils
all with one aim, with an identical goal
only to serve Hashem, the spiritual void to fill.

times have been hard, we've shed many tears
in every dor, in every generation
but emuna in Hashem, has carried us through all fears
and kept us together, as the holy nation.

we hope and we pray
every single day
for Hashem to say, I still remember you
with achdus all as one
we'll return to our father
and the promise we hope for, will come true.

the sick to be healed
the prisoners to be freed,
oh, dear father, racheim aleinu.
eliyahu hanavi to meet
mashiach tsidkeinu to greet
bimheira beyameinu

amen.

(please no flaming about certain parts.
I made the poem when I was younger.
I edited very slightly)

↑ grin

Fri, Jan 07 2011, 4:46 am

cuties' mom wrote:

I'm sitting at the computer,my toddler on my lap.
We're simply sitting here though he really needs a nap.
A book is lying under my hand.
My kid's therapist wants me to read it, hoping I'll understand.
But "Engaging Autism" will have to wait,of that there is no doubt.
There's no way I can read it now; I'm busy spacing out.

I forgot to sweep the floor last night and take the garbage out.
I realized it this morning- I was busy spacing out.
My son's lunch mess is on the floor.
The broom's in the corner near the door.
I'm not cleaning up lunch yet; the mess will have to wait.
I'm busy spacing out; Believe me, it feels great.

I don't get much sleep at night though I spend many hours in bed
entertaining all the lovely thoughts that creep into my head.
And in the day the chores pile up as boring as can be.
But I have all my nighttime thoughts to keep me company
So if you want my attention now, you're gonna have to shout.
I'm really not ignoring you; I'm simply spacing out.

WOW -awesome. I so totally relate!
[it's not just me - yeah Hooray

now I have a new excuse for the mess.]

↑ mosma

Fri, Jan 07 2011, 7:17 am

sandyb wrote:

Ok here goes.

Words unspoken,
Froth silently beyond the surface
yearning to break free.

The words,
they struggle to explode into the yawning chasm of silence
that seals my isolation.

The silent words
bounce around
in the crevices of my brain
seeking to express the turbulence of emotion.

Words are the bridge that link the world inside my head
to the world that exists outside.

I don't space out, I space in. Smile

this is amazing! exactly how I feel sometimes...especially bec:
the words in my head
try to duplicate
but
never imitate
the words that come out of my mouth...

(it was originally a sentence but it flowed nicely so I formatted it to a poem)

↑ robynm ↓

Fri, Jan 07 2011, 9:09 am

Hey all my Fellow Writers (and readers, I know you're out there)

This has been a huge success and I am so proud of each one of you that has braved sharing your writing with me and the rest of us.

Some requests have been made to keep this group open so others can read. What do you think?

Are we ready for a new topic? I have noticed some requests. BUt I do think that we should do it in a new thread because this one is getting very long. So I started a new on for everyone to move to.

Just click on The SOCIAL SCENE FORUM and you'll see that the second thread says:

(I dare you not to look) WRITERS CLUB part 2

So click on it. And let's start writing our new stuff there. For those of you that like writing your own topics, that totally works. And for those of you that like having a suggested topic you could either continue to write about SPACING OUT or as requested use the subject "I"

As usual, questions/ comments are always welcome!!!

Robyn

amother ↓

Wed, Jan 12 2011, 1:13 pm

Now that we can post anonymously I wanted to ask for critique on my poem that was previously posted but not under my screen name. Im pasting it below so you dont have to go looking for it.

Im interested in whether people understood what I was trying to say
What you thought I was saying
And what I may have been talking about
But feel free to critique it freely.

TIA

Spacing In - By Reva

Whats Spacing Out?
I think I used to know it, way back when
dreams could be dreamt
desires not yet spent

Whats Spacing Out?
Is it that thing?
Im remembering now
on a whim, your mind
left to spin,
Please tell me how, to do this thing
To space
When all I see is his face
In my spaced out space

Whats Spacing Out?
I know it now,
But its not the same
I dont feel it
Running through my cold blooded vein

Out of Space
Out of time

Maybe here, maybe there

How many mountains must I climb,
Time, I think ive run out of mine

Whats Spacing Out?
How can you forget,
I think,
Thats what I have done.
Maybe its a coping mechanism,
not wanting to fill that chasm
Don't space out,
lest it fill,
with every tear I never sprout.
In case I shout

Now im just a mom,
With all thats already been done
When I space out
I space in
To my within.

↑ robynm ↓

Wed, Jan 12 2011, 1:31 pm

amother wrote:

Reva, I recall reading this before... but dont remember this reaction that I feel now. I feel really sad, I went to highlite the parts that spoke to me and just realized that it all speaks to me... im scared to admit what this says to me.... bec I feel a lot of the same things, minus the last paragraph. do u get what im saying (even though im not saying much?) each line is like a dagger, followed by the next... why do I feel like we are pretty similar?

↑ amother ↓

Wed, Jan 12 2011, 1:54 pm

ahh thanks Robynm,
you replied so fast!
I think for everyone it could mean something different,
whether its about your abusive father, or drug addicted brother or Husband who your mad at or even ex husband. I just woundered how people had interpreted it. I showed it to someone and they felt that it was profoundly sad shock

for me its truth, and I dont find my life profoundly sad just what it is.

Im so pleased you felt like you could connect with the poem and me! - thats so awesome and super amazing that a poem can effect that kind of reaction.

Ive read your stuff and it was very good and I think what you have achieved so quickly is amazing. You have created quite a group of followers, go you!