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***
I STARTED MY JOGGING PROGRAM THIS EVENING ... FINALLY!


I had to curtail my running while working on my roof between April and August. I have been wanting to start up again while I've been so lazy and before starting my next project. It's just been so darn hot, and today was no exception (very humid too), but I went to the track at around 6:20 p.m. and did an easy mile.

I was a little encouraged because my legs weren't as bad as I might have thought. All that work going up and down my roof helped to keep my muscles toned but my heart could still use some cardio work. I didn't see my ghost friends today but if you missed my post last spring, here's a little taste of what I'm talking about:

http://metaphorsbwithu.livejournal.com/tag/ghosts

Sometimes people who know I write like to ask where all that stuff comes from. I never know how to answer because it's like there's a wellspring of experiences and images, sights and sounds, words and feelings inside you, and you just have to let them out. Of course, some people have a better ear for the flow and rhythm of words and language, and that's something you can't teach.

It's like that with poems. Sometimes there's just a feeling inside you that can't be released unless it's put into words. Sometimes the words represent different things to different people, even the writer, since they often build on each other and sometimes seem to have a life of their own.

I own a guitar, have for many years, and although I cannot play music, I can tune it roughly and strum a few basic chords very badly. Sometimes the little songs I sing to myself or the chords I play stir something inside. That happened early this afternoon when I jotted down these images:

It's raining soft
Teardrops, pink with warm blood,
Falling through a milky mist
Into a sea of ice-cool rhythms,
Chords and words off-key.
Though I do so try,
Gathering my wits and dreams
Arranged in soft cushions,
The air scented by vanilla creams
And coffee dreams spiraling
Wisps of strawberry phantoms
Vanilla ghosts swirling
Tickled by a yellow flame
From shiny waxen angels.

I'd never liked coconut much
‘til I sailed to Tahiti with you,
An interrupted voyage
On a long grey ship,
Pitched with licorice kisses,
Steered by wind whispers all giddy
And blushing at such timid intimacy.
Their laughing tears
Blew us away and stung our faces.
Who foresaw such a spectacle?
You and me, trying to be free,
Never to once foresee
A somber burial at sea.

You know
I stopped wearing my socks
Inside out just for you
Learned how to hang a proper crease
Not that it mattered to me
But you laughed me into it
When you tweaked my nose,
Sometimes making my eyes roll like
The time you threw out my old clothes
I found them anyway
Didn't say a thing to you
Just put them back folded neatly
And waited for the hammer,
Men!

Small things you gave me
But each and every day
Amid the clutter of existence
Tiny cells full of treasure
Infused with the sparkling flutter
Of my busy little bee
Ever searching,
Finding pockets in my idle moments
Filling them with your gold
Of which you had abundantly
My pain wrapped in your gentleness
The soft caress of your eyes
Good things to share
Under clouds gray
When the drums roll heavy,
Just before the ice cream melts.

That spoonful of chocolate sprinkles
With my coconut wasn’t bad either
I still go through the motions
Though now I so miss watching
Your nose scrunch,
Your brow knit
The way your lips pursed,
Not worrying for wrinkles then,
Certainly not now.
I stared amazed
As you trudged on up
Then glided through the crisp whiteness
Under a soft blanket of blue
Decorating our own private
Icy snow-capped peaks
Leaving your elegant trail
Ever so delicately
For only me to see.


***


Like much of what I do, it's in need of work and a little more thought. Still, I get a kick out of seeing the raw elements that can emerge on a rainy afternoon.

Have a nice evening everyone, even if you don't read this. I'm thinking of you kindly. I myself try to put little nuggets of gold in the places I think need them most. I think a lot of people do that. The worst part of anyone's day, I think, is when they go back later and find they are still there.

:)

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Comments

( 9 comments — Leave a comment )
miss_kat_1968
Sep. 17th, 2006 05:00 am (UTC)
I've ben out for most of the day. I'll post more tomorrow about it; just curious, what chords did you strum?
metaphorsbwithu
Sep. 17th, 2006 05:34 am (UTC)
The easiest I can manage ... D, G, A, C. I would never even hint to anyone I could play, although I wish I'd taken lessons at a young age. I just find it relaxing. Have a good night!
macabredelight
Sep. 17th, 2006 11:30 am (UTC)
I need to start jogging soon too and situps, etc. We did go for an almost two hour walk yesterday so that was a start. It got too hot for Hanna and she was hungry so we had to go back home.
I had to cancel my curves membership since I got laid off and won't be able to go on my lunch breaks. :( The place was convenient for work but not for home.
I love the poem. It is very interesting. I am on chapter 3 of your book. I love it so far.
metaphorsbwithu
Sep. 17th, 2006 04:12 pm (UTC)
Good morning E!

It's raining again and I'm getting ready to watch some football ... frozen pizza and chili dogs on the menu. I'm such a guy! *lol*

Like I said yesterday, I'm better off physically than I thought running-wise, although I have a long way to go. Just listen to your body, start slow, and make small increases in your pace and distance.

Do you know what yoga sit-ups are? I did these years ago and they are terrific. You have to have patience. It's not a full sit-up nor a crunch. You lay on your back with your knees pulled up in a flexed position. With your hands around the back of your head, you SLOWLY try to bring your head forward. Usually a person just starting can only move up a few inches. You do this only twice a day and it seems you are not making progress, but your abdominals are slowing getting stronger and after several days you will be getting higher and higher until you can bring your head all the way forward to your knees. When you do the return back to the floor, you do it slowly too, holding your position before resting back on the floor. You will feel the burn.

The key is not jerking yourself up and down and allowing your abdominals to do all the work. After you are at the point when you can do a full sit-up, you begin to increase the repetitions and the length of time you "hold" your position on your return. It only sounds complicated in explaining how it works but it is so simple. Most people just get bored because they don't think it's working. However, when you are doing 20-30-40 or more and you realize you couldn't do one to start, you'll be amazed.

Wow, you really are reading my book? I hope you find it fun. The main thing to remember (after getting familiar with the characters) is that Hale is the little idealist and peacemaker, Ken is very shy and didn't get along with the twins in the first book, Giselle is the genius, Raye Lynn is Hale's best friend, the spunky little cutie who's used to get her way, and one of the twins, Nicola, took it very hard when her twin sister got all the attention because of what happened to her and Ken while solving their first mystery. That's why she has a little attitude in this book.

You have a wonderful day! Gotta love those cookouts. :D
aspoor
Sep. 17th, 2006 05:44 pm (UTC)
Hey, good for you! My husband only recently joined a local gym so he can shed some pounds and get back into shape. So far, he's really enjoying it!

I LOVED YOUR POEM - but when don't I? *LOL* What can I say - I'm a sucker for poetry...
metaphorsbwithu
Sep. 18th, 2006 03:27 pm (UTC)
Thanks April. I'm actually a little sore this morning (just a little). I only ran 1 1/4 miles Sunday but I turned it up a bit on the last lap. I know how to start slow and make small increases in pace and distance.
el_jefe59
Sep. 17th, 2006 06:54 pm (UTC)
I like the poem/song you are working on! It has a lot of potential! It stirs up great images and leaves me wanting to read more between the lines, as it were.
metaphorsbwithu
Sep. 18th, 2006 03:30 pm (UTC)
Yeah, I love reading between the lines too ... in most cases.
punkin_bread
Sep. 18th, 2006 02:31 am (UTC)
I do love all of your poems. I think he plays the guitar great and he can sing. I used to get him to sing and play for me as often as possible. Hope you enjoyed the game today. Love Nicole
( 9 comments — Leave a comment )

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