Writer’s Quote Wednesday – Dedication

For this week’s episode of Writer’s Quote Wednesday, hosted by Colleen of Silver Threading (although I must warn you that her website has been recently hacked into by some guy. I think his name is Ron something. Anyway, I won’t tell Silver if you won’t because he’s doing an excellent job in there. I just hope there’s food left in the fridge), I want to talk about investing in your best, and dedication:

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Lisa discovers writing is not so easy

I don’t know who the author is behind this quote. It didn’t come from a book or google search. I was actually watching the Venus and Serena documentary on Netflix the other day and I heard someone say it. Immediately I pressed rewind and typed it down in the notepad on my phone. This quote struck me abruptly. I’ve been thinking a lot of my need to perfect my skill and my sometimes obsessive outlook on writing in general so I found these words refreshing. I know that I have to continue to improve on my skill so yes, I will say that I’m a perfectionist. I believe strongly in the power of excellence and putting forth my best. If I put forth my best, what else can I ask of what I reap? I love to write and to do so by any means necessary. This I feel is necessary to keep the creativity flowing so that I can be in a consistent vacuum of tuning and editing and re-editing and evolving. If I’m going to improve then I must persistently act. Sometimes my action leads to failure but even that is worth it. No one ever truly succeeds until they first know what it means to fail. In short, this quote stood out to me because I’m so this person!

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My level of concentration on anything that I’m doing has got to be tight. My dedication has got to, in some ways, exceed the norm in order for me to really be satisfied with what I have accomplished. I have to at the very minimum try. Putting my everything into a project and what comes from that I am satisfied with. What more can I ask for if I’ve done everything I can? What more can you do if you’ve done your best? That’s it. There’s the answer. I pace myself but I also sincerely believe in investing in my best. Why thump out 2,000 words Lisa when you have it in you to do 20,000? Don’t get me wrong, your best doesn’t have to be the top, sometimes it’s the bottom. Sometimes its crawling. Sometimes it’s just starting. Sometimes your best is getting up out the bed this morning and writing a paragraph. Heck, sometimes your best is getting out of bed! It is liable to change from day to day and you just gotta work with what you have that day. Needless to say I found this quote especially inspiring for me personally.

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Until next week, yall be great.

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Delilah’s Responsibility

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I wonder if it was a spiritual experience
wonder
if blades covered their eyes against the war to which you had grafted them
wonder
if angels had taken the time to whisper to strands of hair of their coming demise
I wonder if they saw laughter dancing in your eyes
and if they had prepared themselves
with breastplates
and helmets,
and knee pads,
if they held their hands up
wonder if the blade hesitated against the strength of the strands
that rubbed against each other
like
lovers
strands of hair that were intimately entwined
hair that made a covenant with the earth
hair
that had promised to protect him since birth
that clung onto one another
like Samson clung onto you
strands of hair that loved
like Samson loved you.
But I wonder if it was spiritual for you
Did you see them as Kings planted inside the throne of private follicles
and fighting battles there
or was it just
hair?
was it spiritual?
for you?
When you touched it,
did you shake hands with angels,
did truth shoot through your body like electricity,
did your fingers grow numb
Did you feel it?
Did your stomach back flip, turn your tears into rivers
Did your mind leave you
Did it purchase attorney’s to plead mercy on behalf of the war you had begun
the moment you looked into his eyes and said “I love you”
Did the spirit find you guilty of conspiracy
to commit the world’s greatest terrorist attack
or did the Philistines just want their money back
I wonder
if you noticed that at that moment your hands were weapons,
heavy and strong
locked and loaded
weapons of war and your heart were choir directors
and yall played
Oh so softly the music of deception,
you sung ballads on his scalp
And immersed his enemies in your lap
I imagine you had bullets beneath your cuticles
You see, I wonder what your life was like
But most of all,
I wonder about the events that lead up to your iniquity
I wonder
Dearest Delilah… about your responsibility.
Wonder if my brother saw righteousness on top freshly painted nails
I wonder if 7 dread locs are added to your scale
And I pray…
I’m not presented with such a responsibility
I wonder if foresight blessed you with the image of Judas
without his consequence
wonder if his betrayal was your inspiration
to get through this
wonder if you are our warning to learn from the past
so that the present’s truly
a gift.

Words Are Worth It

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Corroded behavior reveals the unpolished stains left dangling from the heart
Brimming from the mind and falling from the mouth
A surge of power tap dancing in the air and building meaning on the ground
A melting pot of consonant sounds and vowels finding way to my skin
Seeking to build homes in the goosebumps on my arms
Making noise
Unnecessary sounds like the mimic of my own voice
But you do not live here
Have not walked on top the coals that once found residence between my toes
to know what this ground taste like
a skin black leather like strength
I was not born among glass
and will not break easily
I doubt then that this impression will go successful
Sneaky words
Empty tongues
Idle existence
a reverberation of shame creaking against emotion is your birthplace
dare you seek to give of me a world of illusion
a day dream of fairy-tale hopscotching around in my mouth
an elusive sleep walk
a collection of letters too light to gravity the ground
too corroded to fly
bouncing off the walls of thought
dare you pretend the taste of burnt ash that fell from mouth and consumed a life
did not first have a home in heart
all these bodies collecting black and bruise
bruise and black
and bone and stitch
I am no fool
Dear Words
I choose to choose you carefully
To examine your wings before deciding that they should take flight
To taste your essence one syllable at a time
Seasoning as needed
You see words,
I’m on to you
I know how powerful you really are.

Power of Words

Do you not know that your words declare to the world who you are?

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I’m starting to understand more and more the power we have as individuals and how we so readily give this power away with the speed of thought. One of the reasons I happen to love words is for the power that they hold. When you speak your words begin to act upon what has been spoken, in other words they live. Poetry then becomes such an attractive art because it’s not just the reading and reciting of words, but it’s the emotion and exact senses that encompasses the words that are spoken. I sometimes find it hard to really judge poetry because it’s such a personal part of the poet and there are so many different kinds of styles and tones. But the kind of poetry I really fall for is the delicious kind, the tasty kind; the kind of poetry that speaks so personally to the reader / listener that we will believe that this poem was a gift specifically granted to us. When I read a poem about running I want to feel your heartbeat, I want your breath to brush upon my cheeks; I want my feet to ache from the unforgiving concrete of the ground. I want to feel you as if I invaded your body only to live in your existence for the remainder of the poem. I want to be one with you on that intimate level. If you possess power, when you speak then so should I. That’s the kind of poetry that inspires me, and I must say the kind of writing as well; the kind that possesses power. I always encourage new poets to make sure their delivery is superb. Writing is in many ways the easy part, but when you approach an audience make sure they can feel what you felt when you wrote that poem. Don’t tell me its poetry, just paint poetic justice against the backdrop of heavy keystrokes. Let me “bathe in the blank wake of your passion and be kissed by white paper” (Mark Strand). Far as general speech is concerned we have to learn to stop being so sensitive. Nothing others do or say is always about you. Whether that’s blogging, writing, posting, etc, when we stop worrying about how others see us we can then stop being the victims of needless suffering. The power of words always comes back to self and what self is willing and not willing to allow in his / her space. A lot of the negativity we walk around with is due our own making, it is simply made up of elements we allowed to come in. We are thus bearing the burden of self inflicted scars, but we  should never let anyone dilute the power of our words. I’m realizing now that whenever we say that we “can’t” do something, we unconsciously weaken ourselves just a little bit more than we were just moments before. How much worse when we allow the words of others to do the same.