greener grass

I won't deny it, I miss smoking weed, but not enough to partake in the consuming habit it once was.  With a temper on my side, it soothed my mind, helped release tension, and made me write like a rock star.

writer's block

We all need inspiration.  Anyone who denies its need is lying to his/herself.  Inspiration can represent anything, but it's a priceless concoction that moves the soul along.  It may be aiming to fit in a new swim suit after working out for six weeks, a promotion that comes with a raise after that long worked on project has been completed, or a vacation in the future that's way overdue, compliments of your tax return.  As humans, when we know that a pot of gold awaits us at the end of the tunnel, we use that sight down the road to push, ignite and inspire us to work towards "point B."  In my case, inspiration gives me ammunition to write stories that I hope in turn will inspire thought.

the grass isn't always greener on the other side

I know this lesson better than anyone.  I am living through it now.  It amazes me how often I fall flat on my face because I think one change will make a dramatic impact.  "Say it isn't so?"  I bite my lip in hopes it is a bad dream that brought me to my current steps.  Yet it isn't a bad dream, but the realization that writer's block has taken me hostage and truth be told, I've been missing inspiration as a part of my day-to-day.

I have been pondering this for a few days now and my latest dream from last night's slumber brought about an obvious answer.  It doesn't require climbing the gate to get to the other side.  We make our successes by our actions, driven and focused as we project them. This is anyone's ammunition...drive...fire that gets us going.

When we're hungry, we eat.  When we're tired, we sleep.  These are examples of how our energy is fueled.  So I ask you this?  How do you acquire greener grass?  Bingo, you water it.

Find your motivation.  It's out there - sometimes you have to dig for it, but it's there. It's an essential part of how we grow as a person and knowing when you have succeeded makes it all the more glorious.

So what's my current inspiration?  To make everything I touch better.  To treat others nicely.  To smile and laugh every day because it's a "sure cure" that always makes us feel alive.  More amazing than this, it's contagious and if everyone's doing it then inspiration will grow abundantly.

a million pieces

It's funny how when you least suspect it, something in your life happens and you turn around and your past is gone.  When moving forward takes you a few steps further than you're ready for.  When you hear from an old friend who reminds you of something you believed in a long time ago.  When another friend shares some news and it's unexpected.  When a colleague turns evil and you're told to just go with it.

A million pieces.

That was last month.  I can't deny having racked my brain trying to digest it all.  I'm not looking into the glass, I'm inside.  My astrological sign defines me as one who dissects everything I come into contact with because I am constantly struggling with making sense of the world that revolves around me.  I see math problems minus their answers.

I'm over the drama of the industry I work in.  It's life and it's at a cost, so let mine be mine and yours be yours.  We don't need to advertise complications.  I admit that growing up in a Christian home sheltered me from the things I know today, but I wouldn't trade those lessons for anything.  It is within those lessons that I bore a heart - something most people struggle with displaying.  We spend so much time running around, attending meetings, keeping appointments, meeting deadlines, blowing people off because there is never enough time.

Where did all the time go?

For once, I'd like to have a "frankly darling, I don't give a damn" moment and be perfectly cool with it.  So I'm throwing in the towel this month.  Trying my hand in a different view of life.  Maybe instead of incomplete numbers, I should be seeing life as music notes flowing along the day, each tune changing with the scene it brings about.

And I shall write more as I envision these musical notes.  Writing has always been therapeutic for me; it's cheap, goes by my schedule, and enables me to practice writing big words.  This reminds me of the moral of a movie my brother gave me many Christmases ago.  About a girl who merely cared about doing good and never thinking about herself in the interim or getting lost in the drama.  Goodness always rewards itself with goodness - you could never fail in this process.

So there you have it.  Moving forward, my million pieces will represent goodness and music sheets.  It'll play these tunes as the day moves along.  You'll hear the song on the radio that will represent whatever your heart desires at that very moment.  And happiness will soar abound.

And suddenly your heart will feel complete as the song as you make it.

All you have to do is listen and let go.

View life as a music sheet, changing with each scene

Swooned by bacon

Oscar Meyer won me as a child with its cured meat

every Saturday, without fail, I’d devour the treat

Thankful to my dear mother who never cut me off

four perfect strips, crispy edges and center soft

Then I grew and I knew, it would never leave

the love had grown into layers of fat BLTs

Four times two would do, joined by tomato slice

a club of toast, mayo, and lettuce means repeat twice

Well hello, I said to pork belly, its grand name

you’ve grown into this decadent thick cut of game

Who kept you from me, I’ll cut his arm and dispose

honorable fat, slutty meat pieces, goodness composed

Oh bacon how you carried me through heartache and clout

comfort food was named after you, of this there’s no doubt

Forever faithful I’ll be as I bow down on my knees

no food in the world more adorned, never ceases to please

Where there is harmony, people share a common love and wish

every chef lives his childhood through his showcased dish

Bacon Fest Chicago, an example, unlike no other

bringing all together in peace, bacon sisters and brothers

Note:  this was my submission to the Bacon Fest Poetry Contest 2013.  I did not make the semi-final cut, but I'm proud of my own regardless.

Sexy meat turned into...

Sizzling slices...I can smell it now

Who doesn't love this guy?