HastyWords's Blog, page 143

POURING MY ART OUT MADE ME CRY

I asked Arthur Browne with Pouring My Art out to write a book review for me and he did more than that. I imagine him slaving away in his underground office typing all of his blogs and the fact he had time to write this…for me….sniff sniff.

There is so much love and support in the post I could literally feel it hugging me. I know it’s a mushy way to describe it but it is how it felt. It is a good feeling when you feel your voice has been heard…someone is actually listening. Thank you for listening Arthur.

I don’t feel like the same person that wrote that book so I sort of felt like I was standing along side him cheering this person on. I can’t thank him enough for the beautiful book review. Thank you for your friendship, it would be a boring blog-o-sphere if I had never met you!

Originally posted on Pouring My Art Out:

Depression’s Dance… Written by Hasty Words

http://hastywords.wordpress.com/

I am so honored to do this review for my good friend Hastywords.

She wrote a book called Depression’s Dance. She asked me to review it. I read it… and now I do not even know where to begin.

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Published on February 11, 2014 13:21

PEERING THROUGH GOD’S KALEIDOSCOPE

This duet took some time to write due to me losing my place a billion times. She was patient though and I think the end result turned out beautifully. Visit SerendipiTee here.Written by SerendipiTee and HastyWords

Wading through a cold, familiar river

I happened upon a gold and silver beam

The brilliant sparkling pulled me to the sun

And dragged me deeper into the flowing stream

I stared directly with fascination and for the first time

Was not blinded but could see that someone

Had left his mark, a message, a rhyming song

Written in fire upon this fiery globe in front of me

Wading through a fire of lukewarm flames

I happened upon an unexpected inferno

That, engulfing me, soothed me and pulled me to its center

I shielded my eyes -careful little eyes for what you see-

I blinked and caught a holy vision, all-knowing,

Staring at me with eternal wisdom and complete clarity

Absorbing crystal perspectives in a kaleidoscope of colors

I cried out what seemed to be several voices in harmony

Igniting my center, the very core of my fragile being,

Opening my mind, empowering me to understand

The world and everything around me, all that I could see

Every blink of my eye turned a page in the storybook of reality

I could see the future; I was the storyteller coloring every sheet

With a box full of colors some of which I had never seen

I no longer had a name or a face but the sight of a visionary

Borrowing for just a moment the eye of God, I could see infinity

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Published on February 11, 2014 07:56

AS APOLOGIES FALL

Just another troubled soul
Just another pretty face
Stuck in an abusive place
Looking for ways to escape
Uh oh here comes the rain
Uh oh here comes the rain

Too many sets of eyes
Too many perfect smiles
Writing her own eulogy
With single blank tempos
Uh oh here comes the rain
Uh oh here comes the rain

Held on trial, convicted
An easy target, a victim
She hides inside porcelain skin
As apologies fall like acid snow
Uh oh here comes the rain
Uh oh here comes the rain

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Published on February 07, 2014 21:24

WHEN SUN KISS MOON

This duet was started by JMC813. It has been awhile since we have done a duet and this one made me want to watch The Notebook again. The picture I used here was originally, best I can tell, posted as a black and white tattoo sketch on deviant art titled Kiss of the Sun and Moon by Eddie. I colored it for this piece.

Written by JMC813 and HastyWords

The sun embraces the horizon with one last caress
As the moon and first stars greet the night with a kiss
My thoughts turn to blissful memories of better times
Times when the nightly rituals of the lover’s Sol and Luna
Were inspired by a devotion shared between two same souls.
Two heart’s as one, we brought a love that warmed the sun
While delivering a passion that brought a glow to the moon.

As fireflies chase each other on the heated evening breeze
I watch them and remember you as I very often tend to do
You would sit with your head resting soft on my shoulder
And I could sense your contentment in every single breath
As the years went by we watched the same calendar of stars
Map out our journey leading far beyond our seeing eyes
And into an ever after that you have seemed to beat me to

The ever after we both happily agreed upon so very long ago
Exists in all its glory just beyond a myriad of stars inside your gaze
You have gone ahead to seek the truth from the heavens above
And I imagine you looking down on me showering me with peace
Sending me signs, as I sit in our special place, in the hopes that I’ll see
You have made a place for me there by your side in celestial paradise
So that when I arrive you may once again rest your head upon my shoulder

I felt my earthly body failing and without another thought I fell prostrate
Happily to the sacred ground we together lived, loved, and died upon
And when I let go of my last breath, and let my heart subside I saw the light
New-found and everlasting contentment returned to me in your presence
There you stood with a lifetime of smiles and warmth painting your face and
Together again we watched the moon and stars kiss a million nights goodbye
And suns that graced every early vista with rays that bathed us in eternal kisses.

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Published on February 07, 2014 14:06

THE OLD MAN AND THE PORCH SWING

This is a fictional story dedicated to my Daddy Pete…you died when I was young but I still remember the simple love you shared.

He used to sit on his front porch swing

The old man who lived across the street

I miss him now,though he must be gone

Looking back I admired his simplicity

I remember sitting next to him once

I was selling cookies for my troop

And he asked me to come sit a spell

He said he loved the Girl Scouts

And all his boys were Cub Scouts

We sat for half an hour talking

His eyes and smile told volumes

That his words could never tell

Children moved out, grandchildren

They came to visit then they went

His wife was hardly ever home

She was a woman of high society

She cared about this and that

And he cared about other

More immaterial this’s and that’s

After a spell I said to him

You spend so much time out here

He smiled and held a finger to his lips

Then pointed to his ear, asking me to listen

What I heard that day I will never forget

It was that day I learned

The true meaning of contentment

And I also learned it had a sound

As I sat I heard the swing creak

I heard birds chirping, dogs barking

Cars speeding here and there

But it was the kids yelling, screaming

Their excitement filling the air

I heard their bats crack and cheers

Every time a player made home plate

I never noticed it before

The baseball games being played

A few blocks away

Teams competing on the field each day

The sounds brought back his youth

But his health no longer allowed him

To attend the games or even to watch

So… in that swing on the porch he would stay

Now all these years later I think back

To this simple man in a simple swing

Living his life every day, all over again

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Published on February 07, 2014 13:15

INSATIABLE

If nymphomaniacs were chefs, the stomach and the groin would finally start talking. They’d say: “Fat is sexy.” Enrolling all our sex addicts in culinary school may be the best way of dealing with obesity. Every meal of the day would be candlelit, every course would be dessert, and our food would make squelching noises and prematurely explode before it reaches our mouths.” ~ Bauvard, Some Inspiration for the Overenthusiastic

He was handsome

And she was hungry

It had been awhile

Since she felt this

Wild hunger churn

Deep dark currents

Fluxing and flowing

Not in peace but

In a wild agility

Full of electricity

Like a vampire

She sought life

Not the sickly sweet kind

But in the fragrance

Found on his neck

The smell she craved

To fill her lungs with

The scent that called

To her native desires

Animalistic yearnings

I’m sorry she’d say

But I need you to hold me

To let my hands linger

On your breathing chest

To let my lips linger

On your hushed mouth

To let my body linger

On top of yours

For a lifetime

Or until I can get my fill

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Published on February 06, 2014 11:43

THE BEST REVIEW EVER WRITTEN

I am serious…I am certain Sage just wrote the BEST review ever written

I was just going to re-blog this but I decided to include it in my own post in order to say thank you. I asked Sage if he would do a review of my latest book but I didn’t expect anything as wonderful as this. His review of my book is found below and I must say I was blown away.

Those who follow my blog know how in love I am with his story, The Journal of Wall Grimm. If you don’t know Grimm he has his own site where his life has been unfolding for us inside his journal. Grimm refers to us, the audience, as Imaginary Journal Reading People and doesn’t hold anything back. Sage has also written several other stories one of which is being told by Grimm titled Amon-Re and the other he is pursuing agent representation on titled The Opera.

Thank you Sage Doyle for reading and reviewing, and thank you for being such a good friend.

Depression’s Dance. HastyWords. a review by Sage Doyle

Amazon.com

Published December 22, 2013. 104 pages

Depression’s Dance by HastyWords is a compilation of poetry and narrative that documents the course of depression, conveyed from the perspective of Hasty’s personal experience. Depression is personified as a seductive force attempting to charm Hasty into continuing the dance, which could ultimately destroy her. The book describes the journey of struggles, torment, regrets, frustration, and hope that she has known while suffering from depression.

Hasty states in the prologue, ”It isn’t an emotion; it isn’t a state of mind; it is a disease. My advice, if you think you might be depressed: find someone to talk to and acknowledge it before it tries to kill you.” This is extremely important to recognize that depression is in fact a disease. Those who suffer from it too often blame themselves or become so discouraged that they cannot fight and heal. By personifying depression and using the metaphor of the dance, Hasty emphasizes that depression manipulates the mind and emotions, and imprisons the spirit in a seemingly endless cycle, until a person no longer has the strength to continue the dance. Personification is a psychologically effective technique which can help to separate depression as its own entity from the person who is suffering. Through this separation, the person no longer identifies his/herself with the disease, and is able to distinguish it as something to confront and conquer.

In Depression’s Dance, depression is also given a voice, “I have convinced you to believe you are broken beyond repair.” It speaks throughout the book as an enchanter, luring Hasty to walk away from those she loves, from her desires and things that make her happy, and essentially her life. Hasty skilfully creates the voice as if it is spoken just under the surface of the conscious, sensed, but unheard. It implants negative perceptions and sabotages the ability to dispel them. While depression is an underlying influence which aims to destroy her, Hasty’s own voice is shared through her poetry.

Hasty’s poetry reveals how she is affected by depression. She acutely expresses her thoughts and emotions, and exposes the impact the disease has on her life. “A Little Friendly Advice” shows what she is honestly thinking during conversations with concerned friends. “Breathing Contradiction” is an amazing poem, profound in its simplicity. It is an incredibly valid portrait of the inner world of someone who suffers from depression. “A Dressed Up Heart” regards her sadness even as a child.

Depression’s Dance focuses on an intense struggle with depression, and evokes a powerful sense of hope throughout, with the message that the disease can be overcome. I would highly recommend Depression’s Dance by HastyWords to anyone who has suffered or is currently suffering from depression, anyone who knows someone who has or has had depression, or anyone who just enjoys reading beautiful and touching poetry.

Depression’s Dance by HastyWords can be purchased for $3.99 on Kindle and $8.09 in paperback, (prices may change). The book is available through:

Amazon

http://www.amazon.com/Depressions-Dance-HastyWords/dp/1494781506/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1391700450&sr=8-1&keywords=hastywords

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Published on February 06, 2014 07:46

MARILYN MONROE, DRAG QUEENS, THE POLICE, AND ME

Daily Prompt: Isn’t your face red?

I am clumsy…like really clumsy so I get embarrassed often and each time I laugh harder than anyone else around me.

I fell once

Rolled under a parked car

I slipped once

Found I had a brain tumor

I stumbled once

Ruined a pair of $400 shoes

I tripped once

Accidentally de-panted a man

I toppled once

In front of the congregation at church

I tumbled lots

So it isn’t really a big deal

I sneezed once

A mouth full of banana

In front of a boy I liked

I walked 3 times

With my skirt tucked into undies

I earned the title Princess Two Moons

I entered 4 times

Bathrooms filled with whizzing boys

The first time was 3rd grade

They had the coolest drinking fountains

I unknowingly had

Underwear hiding in my stirrup pants

My boss found them hiding near my ankle

I wore a shirt once

That my cat had peed on

What in the hell is that smell?

I drove around once

With my car alarm blaring

I sped home like a car burglar

I’ve smiled

With numerous items

Stuck in my teeth

I’ve donned

A nose with bats

Not so hidden in their cave

But my most fun embarrassing moment

Had to be, hands down, the time

I had to fill out a police report

As I and a few of my drag queen friends

Were dressed as Marilyn Monroe

My least favorite most embarrassing moment

When the doc was about to look at my butt

He walks in and I say, “I’m trying to look sexy!”

Yea….I was nervous and wanted to die

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Published on February 05, 2014 15:42

HEMINGWAY’S POISON by Hughie Gibson

I recently read the poetry collection by Hughie Gibson. Of all the poetry collections I have read I truly connected to the poems in this book, Hemingway’s Poison. Every emotion is laid out in beautifully poetic verse and just waiting to give you a front row seat to his life. I felt reborn inside each poem as if I was the one writing the words. I believe anyone who decides to read this book will see a part of them inside every word. Mr. Gibson also has another work I have not read yet but it is on my list. It is a fiction piece and can be found on Amazon along with his poetry collection. I have included the links to both books…just click on the picture! Visit his site and support one of our wordpress poets!