Thus, Begin

Sometimes you must lose
To learn to win graciously.
Sometimes your heart breaks,
To make room for love again.
Suffering can teach you
How to live more freely.
Disappointment gives a chance
For an increased appreciation of joy.
When you hit the bottom
Your energy renews for the climb.
When you are left empty, alone,
You discover your faithful friends.
When everything is gone, nothing left,
You reach for God and find Him there.
If your happiness disappears, with delight,
Jesus can restore your pleasure, full-measure.
If you need more than you are able
God can provide fulfillment plentifully.
Nothing is over unless you quit
Winners like you, keep going, getting up.

Eschew/Renew

We sketch our lives in
Invisible ink on these walls
Of air, earth, fire, flesh;
We pass like roses, beauty,
Only present a short while.
Our hands busy, selves,
Creating foundations for
Futures never ours,
Generations we offer
Our best gifts, accomplishments.
Now, we sing against
Doubt, fear, insecurity –
Fighting shadow blight
Where the fruit will flourish, brave,
In gardens of delight, saved
From degradations,
We erase with consistent
Labor over years
Paying in earnest, never
Letting faith, hope, slip away.
Love, our guiding light
Though we fade in brightest glare,
Almost completely
Unknown, contributing hearts
To lives, we wish to see free.
Words cannot bring
Every dream into being,
But speaking, a tool,
Purpose-built to encourage
Change within lives reached, inspired.
Plentiful, we, examples
Scattered over time, what minds
Mend, creating more sublime,
Love, part an art, taught hands-on
Driving history toward grace
Still, counting every life, face,
A precious gift to embrace,
With confidence, each person
Has meaning, purpose, reason,
Position in time and space.

The Well, Prepared

Situation Playcation © Jo Ann J. A. Jordan

Writing is the thing that teaches us to understand the experience we cannot command or comprehend. Living is a riot, constant impressions, wild digressions, unbanished obsessions, mythic approximations, and passionate exhibitions.

Love is real, no poetic fairytale; it sometimes bites with destructive force. There are other times it breathes life back into a being near become a cold, bloodless corpse. Heedless, love carries headless need into ages where hearts aflame assuage the blame for falling again.

I.
When what you most want
Remains beyond ability
You become adept
Using CREATIVITY
To fulfill some hopes and dreams.

II.
I am not ideal
But being real is enough
For those loving me.

III.
I have discovered
The wild child passionate self
Does exist still.

IV.
I could sing you blue,
Golden, or bright rainbow hues;
I would disappear
In the arrangement of notes,
Unrecognized within you.

V.
Love plays, tackling us,
In fields where flowers obey
Injunctions to fade;
We are colors resisting
What makes delight history.

Prompt: Create something showing how writing or art rescue from the forgetfulness of greedy insanity.

Thankfulness:
No television to distract.
Productiveness.
Moleskine.
Love.
Creativity.

I am glad you found Chronicles, but my current site is Haphazard Creative. In the sidebar, there are three methods to follow the site. Utilize one of those, or come back when your life allows. Any comments, likes, shares, suggestions, or thoughts are welcome. When you interact with creation, you impact lives.

Everything on Chronicles is © Jo Ann J. A. Jordan.

Pronounced

You cried your words, right,
Into the heart of my life, soul,
Answering was I
Bound close as yourself to you
I sang beauty in a voice
I borrowed – starlight;
The wind untamed took captive
Every small moment
I did not hide in pockets
Protected from your unknown.
Across many years
I chased every pleasure found
In other places,
But each was lacking something
Proven in your words to me.
My nebulous thoughts
Converge, enfold your body
In a field tender
As the minute sensation
Of love, long-deferred, come due.
Myself, my sight, is
Frequent as light traveling
Across space and time
To portray your perfect poise
Provided contrasting darkness.
I have now become
More than distant yesterdays;
Music you wrote, soft,
Upon the flesh, heart, dancing
Beneath your strong, gentle hands.

Thankful Thursday

haphazardcreative.com is my home on the internet. Please join me there this site is only a legacy site.

Process

Occasionally, I am asked how I maintain my creativity and output. The answer is not easy to give. I do not fully understand it myself, but there are things I practice.

I choose to create every day. Writing is what I do most often. I keep a journal that catches much of the produce of my thought. It is not a personal diary or a planner, but a book of ideas. I keep it in longhand.

At times I have no desire to write, but I do it anyway. I am aware that all I create will not be great or even good. I am comfortable with writing poorly at times because I can edit that out. Getting words to flow is the goal. If I skip days, a dam develops, and priming myself is very hard.

For me, writing is the constant of my lifetime. I began at a young age and have continued working with words no matter my situation. It is like eating, I do it to survive.

To inspire me, I read everything, and each day. I study reference and craft books. I read fiction, non-fiction, scripture, devotionals, newspapers, magazines, professional journals, biographies, poetry, various pieces on-line, and anything else that comes before me.

I rarely watch television or video. I have an extreme aversion to advertising, which is inescapable with television, so I avoid it.

I listen to a wide variety and large quantity of music. When I work, I often have it playing though I love quiet too.

My vision is that no subject is so dull it cannot be covered in writing. Surprising results can be achieved writing about the seemingly mundane. A word can be the basis of a poem or story. The life of the mind, a task, a visual, an emotion, an idea, anything is material.

After years of writing, I realize something I believe of keen interest, may appeal to no one else. An essential part of maintaining creative practice is distancing one’s satisfaction with the work from the results. If no one reacts to an effort, it is not an indication it is unworthy. It only means at this moment it did not draw attention.

Creation is never wasted. Skill and definition require training in methods and practice. All words lead toward correct composition. Labor is not done in vain. Talent must be honed to become stronger, better.

I keep producing because I love people, and I hope to encourage and inspire. Often I am unsure of my offering, but words manifest, so I capture them.

I create a lot because I see it as a good practice. The process must progress to accomplish any success.

When Dawn Falls Down

Au Revoir

You carried my heart
Within an inside pocket,
There it was kept warm
Protected by your sweet love;
I lived happiness, galore.
Loving made me bold
Set my inhibitions free,
The ruin of me;
I became wild as water
Life without you frightens me.
Lone, I continue
Love exists, enough to share,
But you are not here,
I walk a shadow of who
The woman was loving you.

*****

Who would have me write
If my vacancies were clear?
Inoculated
By the strains of illness, pain,
I cannot fully explain.

*****

Pain, with all within
We would wish it over, gone,
Still, pain defines time
Validates all life’s pleasure,
The dreams, hopes, love are enshrined.

*****

Thither

I would gladly choose
You who are a mystery
To help liberate
The bonds time forged over me,
Every expression of love
Hidden from my touch
Buried so my passions strong
Are never declared.

*****

The fear that haunts us
Wishes to wreck, destroy us,
But LOVE overcomes.

*****

Firelight and shadow
Are within us all contained
We choose our joy, pain.

These may seem a bit dark. Sometimes the shadow attempts to put me in a vault and shut me away with the bones. It does not recall that I used to visit those places pretending they were palaces. Long corridors and marbled floors, echoes of whispers, and oh the glories when I became brave enough to sing.

I never said I was normal. LOL!

I am reading The Two Towers. If you have never cracked those books, I highly recommend them, if only for the unparalleled joy of the language.

Ex-Pres-Sions

Words Are Dodgy

When the writing screams
You must be lying, joking,
To believe I will
Do your bidding, my ideas
Are none of your mind’s concern.
Then is the moment
To double the commitment,
Producing the work
While knowing no one can make
Every line sing perfectly.
Submit to the sound
Faraway, interpreted,
The fury hides, guides,
Melody binds harmony
Poetry awakes, licks air.
Taste sudden wonder
For magic comes, awakens,
Touches warming skin
Overrides every sorrow
Bursts open needed blessings.
“They are only words,”
Ah, so we could keep them all
Never speaking out,
Not carrying the pleasure,
But no, we must ever share.

*****

A dream though lofty
Stumbles toward the spotlight,
Proclaiming itself
Everything searched for before,
Nothing we can now ignore.

*****

Hungry for success
Many have tried to become
Someone they were not,
Finding themselves empty, tired,
Unhappy, returning bored.

I finally found a lighter mood. A conversation brought it from a distant place. To add emphasis, the music took over, so here we are. I hope all are well. This world has become a bit daunting, but we are still here, and the fight is not over. I appreciate your visit. I hope you will follow the site or often return.

I have decided to post this on two of my acres of cyberspace. My primary place to post is now Haphazard Creative, should you wish to explore my newer work, please follow me there.