its an ugly thing

Stress that is....I hate it....very much so. I try very hard to be a mellow person, not getting too stressed out in life when its not needed. But this last week and a bit it has been very stressful....the red ugly monster of stress seemed to set up camp in our house. It wasnt something that could be avoided, the vehicle issue had to be dealt with and with me working in the field for seeding meant I wasn't home at a regularly set time frame....which doesn't help the frustration. And now the stress is receding leaving only tired and worn out us. the girls are sick, with breathing issues which adds to the stress but I think the worst of the storm has past...now we just need to recover. I work a concert saturday night, which I was looking forward to but now in light of the onslaught of stressfulness I wouldnt mind more time to spend with my beautiful loving wife and just relax. and now I feel like I am babbling a bit so I'll pick a poem and go back to reading my tradepaperback that came in the mail :)

Challenges

I was s l o w

at first

but I got faster

better

each time I did it again

until I was the fastest

I was weak

at first

barely able to move it

but I got stronger

the more I did it

until it wasn’t even a question

of if I could move it

but where I would put it down

My life is constantly filled

with one thought

“Where is my next Everest?”

as I strive through all

the personal challenges

to be the best I can be

full head, blank page

So as I am thinking about what I want to do with this blog I am faced with a problem. I want to use this to put poems out for people to read and comment on which is all fine and well but I have hit a wall with my writing. It feels to me that I haven't written a new poem in a very long time, in actual fact it has been less then a month, but it still feels like an awfully long time considering in April I wrote one new poem everyday in honor of National Poetry Month. Part of me relaxes in thinking that it is just rest from writing those 30 new poems and being busier now with more full time work, but part of me is really frustrated by it as well. I love writing and never really have to force it so now when I want to write something new and nothing happens it is discouraging. I know there are ideas and thoughts inside my head but when I sit down at the paper it doesn't flow, hell somedays it won't even trickle. I guess I shouldn't let it get to me. It hasn't really been that long since I wrote my last new one so I shouldn't be adding stress to myself, it'll set itself write, pun fully intended.

So aside from that here is my last poem written, no one has seen this one yet so I figure its a good one for this post. As always comments are more then welcome!

Hand in Hand

music and poetry
can go hand in hand
both share
common grounds
of creativity
and wonderment
and both can command
the same attention
from their audiences
after all
aren't good songs
simply poetry written
to the music of the soul?

Well here I go...

Well here it is...a blog...not sure if it'll fly but its worth a try right. First off the title is compliments of my wife, Melinda. I write poetry, which takes a certain amount of time to myself. As a husband and a parent of five kids ages five and under, there isnt exactly loads of personal time, so I am quickly becoming a king of multitasking, which includes time in the bathroom. It is not uncommon to see me taking my notebook and pen into the bathroom with me to write.

Now the purpose of this space. Mostly I will post poems here, someplace for people to read them and let me know what they think. I am quite serious about writing somehow, and love doing it so I want people to read them. I will also use this space to vent, rant, post random pictures of random things....I like to ramble on about things I find neat, interesting or cool so I'll likely post that stuff here too.

so lets get this party started:

A cold room that needs to be Warm

It's a small room

won't take much to warm

to a comfortable place

you don't need to spend long

in there

but multiple visits

throughout time

but the bone chilling cold

prickles your skin as you walk through the door

its icy touch lingering

uncomfortably

this is a room that should be

warm because the only thing

colder then the air

is the the throne

of porcelain

that you must reluctantly sit upon.