Micropoetry Monday: The Writer’s Life

Writer's Life

The Shutterfly Edition

She hated starting her day with business,
but she loved ending it with pleasure,
& when she made writing not only her work
but her way of life,
every day was a joy,
for through that writing,
she connected with others
by telling their stories
& in sharing hers.

Novella & Novelette,
the Italian & French literary expatriates
who came to America in a giant plum,
learned that just as there was a time to write
& a time to edit,
there was always a time to read.

She was the Grammar Queen,
he, the Punctuation King,
but when they were stung
by the Tory,
Spelling Bee,
they no longer knew
how to capitalize on their gifts,
& their crowning achievement
became
learning how to dress
their well-spelled word salad.

Micropoetry Monday: The Writer’s Life

Writer's Life

The Shutterfly Edition

She wrote about “Florida Woman,”
he, “Florida Man,”
each always seeking to outdo the other
by finding the most outrageous characters
who had done the most outrageous things;
but when the newspaper had to cut corners,
namely, their offices,
leaving these columnists feeling several stories too short,
they had to reinvent themselves in this new era
of shrinking newsrooms,
so they collaborated on the “People of Pensacola” project,
humanizing those they had once lampooned.

When Passive Voice met Active Voice,
Active believed ze was editorially superior
while Passive believed ze was the target
of numerous microaggressions,
perpetrated by English teachers,
but when they met Passive-Aggressive,
who wasn’t just talk,
P & A literally joined forces,
realizing that both had their place—
Active, when the question was “Who?”
& Passive,
when the question was “Who cares who?”

When Scholar Lee wrote her story
in the 1st person,
she was accused of making it all about herself;
when she revised it to reflect the 2nd person,
she was accused of telling her readers what to think;
when she rewrote it in the 3rd,
she was accused of being a know-it-all,
so she decided that she would write poetry,
where the only voice that mattered
was her own.

Micropoetry Monday: The Writer’s Life

Writer's Life

The Shutterfly Edition

She was a washed-up comedy writer
whose life was always taking serious turns,
turning her security-seeking self into a risk-taking one
because circumstances kept giving her no choice.
She drove a car with several dings that had given her cha-ching,
though now she could only open the doors from the outside,
so heaven help her if those windows quit working.
She lived on continental breakfasts at random hotels
& fancy leftovers from board meetings,
but never did the water that ran yellow
through the Pensacola pipes pass her lips,
for even though she may have been all washed up,
she had inadvertently made it happen
with the best Olay body wash her coupons could practically buy.

He was a nosy reporter,
she, a mouthy writer,
& together,
they not only captured the smells & tastes
of the world around them,
but they beat every lawsuit for slander & libel
that was leveled against them.
With his nose for news
& her gift of gab,
they leveled their opponents so swiftly,
they didn’t know what hit them,
though if anyone asked,
they would say it felt like
18 wheels & a dozen benders.

For him,
the clients were always ruder,
the women, fatter,
& his workday worse than the day before.
According to her,
her grandmother had played Sarah on The Andy Griffith Show,
her father was an illegitimate direct descendant of Diamond Jim Brady,
& she, the reincarnation of Bettie Page before her pin-up years.
Being tellers of big windies,
they always tried to blow the other away
with their vast stores of hot air,
so that as their stories got taller,
their credibility got smaller
& their notoriety got bigger.
When they realized the diamond mine they had
in spinning tangled yarns,
they made money cranking out fake memoirs—
paid for by GoFundMe accounts.

Micropoetry Monday: Life

Photo Shape Editor: https://www.tuxpi.com/photo-effects/shape-tool

For her,
life wasn’t just something to write about—
it was something to live.
Life was a test,
with its true questions
& false answers,
& its limited number of multiple choices.

As part of her self-prescribed Happiness Project,
Dr. Hart learned to love the one she was with
& to love the ones she had.

When it came to picking a mate,
it was drawing the best fit from a small bank
where sometimes all the good answers
were already taken.

Micropoetry Monday: Life

Photo Shape Editor: https://www.tuxpi.com/photo-effects/shape-tool

Free will did not begin in infancy,
but if one was lucky enough
to live long enough
to be emancipated—
after the world had put its stamp on them—
they could make the best or worst choice
based on what they knew.
How unbreakable & valiant
the spirit of some
had to be
to overcome
not only what they had been taught
but how they had been treated.

She’d traded in her Netflix membership
for a library card,
her Chocoholics Anonymous loyalty card
for a YMCA membership,
her customer service job
for a career in content creation.
As she got smarter,
thinner,
& happier,
she also got wiser & realized
that she could still be entertained
after a hard day’s work
& sprinkled (if not showered) with candy
& be a people person sometimes—
the last depending on how many & what kind.

Marriage is no more disastrous first (& last) dates
Motherhood is paying it forward, so they will have something to give back
Family is everything during a crisis
Friends are the people in our lives we choose to adopt
Faith is loving Him for what He did, not hating Him for what others do
Education is stimulating our intellectual curiosity
Work is only part of a purpose-driven life
Writing is spending quality time with people who don’t exist
Books are other worlds you can visit privately
Food is best when shared
Life is best when appreciated

Art for Art’s Sake

I have found that people who think #art is a waste of time are missing out (and maybe have something missing!). Art teaches you how to be a creative thinker (a skill not limited to artistic endeavors). Art gives introverts (like me) a way to express themselves. For me, my art (writing) has been a great confidence builder. My closest friends I have met through my love of writing. This love led me to my dream job so that I could be a stay-at-home mom. Art has also helped me #homeschool my daughter with #autism in a fun way that she can understand. Art (and music) are even used in therapy to help patients cope with and heal from trauma. Art is not just an imitation of life but a part of life that’s as much about the process (maybe even more so) than the product. It is intrinsically valuable, even if it isn’t commercially valuable. If it gives us joy, then it has paid for itself.

The first picture is a bug (on a LEGO storage box). There isn’t a surface in our house that she wouldn’t add a smiley to.

The second is a “tornado spider,” drawn on a whiteboard.

The third is “mod art,” made from torn construction paper scribbled with crayons and tacked to the fridge with LEGO magnets.

Micropoetry Monday: Opposites

Opposites

The Shutterfly edition

She was coffee shops & happy beginnings,
he, bars & happy endings.
After his sown oats
were ready to be tamed into oatmeal,
he realized that the strings of
no-strings
one-night
all-nighters
had been the raisins
but the manicurist—
with her raging perk
for this aging soda jerk—
was the cookie.

He was the King of Tautologies,
she, the Queen of Brevity.
When they crossed paths
on their way to the Capitol,
she soon became sick of him
spelling everything out for her,
even as he grew tired
of trying to read between her lines,
so they parted as frenemies,
where he ended up writing for cable news,
she,
for newspapers,
as people were willing to watch (if not listen)
a lot more
than they were willing to read.

When Dr. Sawbones met Dr. Jawsmith,
Saw had a bone to pick with Jaw
over her silver fillings turned green,
making Jaw want to fight her
tooth & fingernail,
but when it came down to it,
Saw didn’t have the backbone
& Jaw didn’t have the bite.

Micropoetry Monday: Opposites

Opposites

The Shutterfly edition

He was a cat burglar,
she, a dognapper.
When they were caught bird-flipping
& tossed into jail for petty theft,
they decided to revamp their image
by turning vegan—
only to revert to their old ways
to pay for all the supplements
& mock meat products
they now had to buy.

Sullivan’s Travelogue

He was a true-crime writer,
shining a flashlight on the darkness
of human hearts;
she was a romance humorist,
writing feel-good stories
that set hearts alight.
He saw her as an intellectual lightweight—
until he met her & realized
that the world needed her stories
because it was already full of his.
He gave the world what they already knew,
but she gave them something to believe in.

When the Mothers of Invention
met the Fathers of Reinvention,
they—
with their book smarts about schools
& street smarts about prisons—
created a generation
who could rock the jailhouse
& roll with the sucker-punches.

Micropoetry Monday: Opposites

Opposites

The Shutterfly edition

When Mr. Math Whiz
met Ms. Spelling Bee,
they were at odds,
which put them at ends,
because for him,
everything had to be equal,
even as for her,
everything had to be spelled out.

She was bus schedules,
he, flight plans.
She ate out of brown paper bags
from the Dollar Dive,
he, off white china
not made in China.
When her bus turned over
& his plane went down,
they were the sole survivors
whose guilt
pointed them in different directions–
towards one another–
& they realized that what class & education
had separated,
spilt blood & broken bones
had brought together.

He was suburban scrawl,
graffiti-style,
she, exurban murals,
kiddie-style.
When they made
a cosmic connection
via a sandwich artist
in Seedy City,
they painted the town
in every shade of red.
To him,
it was just red,
but to her,
Seedy was now every shade
in the Revlon rainbow.