Shine On & 7 Personal Cozy Factoids

 

 

Many thanks to Jen for nominating me for the Shine On award.  As a thank you, my friends, I would love to introduce you to her blog:  CLICK TO VISIT JEN

I wish to nominate a few friends, whose blogs I admire:

1.  One Brave Survivor Healing a.k.a. Amanda

Amanda is a wonderful writer of beautiful poetry.  Her posts are always uplifting and the voice she uses is authentic.  People interested in a real life person, creative to the core, living authentically who has triumphed over some pretty big challenges in life will garner a lot from spending some time on her blog.

2.  Black and Write a.ka. Dominic R. DiFrancesco

Dominic provides me and his readers with wonderful poems.  He has written in many various poetry formats and his experimentation always leaves the reader hungry for me.

3.  Shrinks Aren’t Cheap a.k.a I don’t know her real name

Edgy poetry.  I love edgy poetry and have been known to write some edgy stuff from time to time.  But here is a true master of knocking you out of your chair on a daily basis.

SO THOSE ARE MY THREE NOMINEES … PLEASE KEEP YOUR BLOGS SHINING ON!

{Rules}

1. Display the award logo on your blog

2. Link back to the person who nominated you

3. State 7 things about yourself

4. Nominate other bloggers for this award

5. Notify the bloggers that they have been nominated

6. Write a wish on a paper airplane and float it out the nearest window.   (Hey, we need new rules for these awards.  Rules that don’t involve tagging a dozen fellow bloggers!)

 

 

SEVEN THINGS ABOUT MYSELF

 

 

1.  Since becoming a daily blogger, I have noticed my self-confidence build.  I don’t have any training in the high arts of creative writing.  I remember first getting into poetry about 2 years ago.  Before that I didn’t appreciate poetry, and felt it was hard to understand.  I remember being interested in the challenge of writing poems and ordering ‘The Poetry Handbook’ by Mary Oliver (don’t waste your money folks).  Basically, my approach has been this… write it, edit it, and put it out there.  It’s like throwing it against the wall and seeing if it sticks.  I went from the naive notions of rhyming poetry to reading and writing mostly in free-verse.  I have also really enjoyed time spent writing haiku’s.  Tanka’s are a new interest for me.  The one piece of advice that helped me quite a bit as a poet is something that my friend told me, “Poetry is meant to be read aloud.”  This really helped me write my own poems and appreciate others.  Try reading a poem aloud and in different international accents and you’ll discover the love of poetry, guaranteed.

 

 

2.  Things I have empathy for:  Veganism (meat is murder), Crohn’s & Colitis, Anxiety / Depression / Mental Illness, People starving, The Homeless, Former Jehovah’s Witnesses, People confused about their sexuality/gender

 

 

3.  My favourite novels:  I like anything by Dan Brown (Da Vinci Code, Angels & Demons, just about to start The Lost Symbol and must get his new book Inferno), Lolita by Nabokov, Catch-22 by Joseph Heller, and I like most novels by spy fiction writer Frederick Forsythe

 

 

4.  Long before I was a poet and a daily blogger, I was a songwriter and musician.  Check out some of my music by CLICKING HERE – you can download any of the songs for free!

 

 

5.  Who is my celebrity crush?  I’d have to say Avril Lavigne.  She’s Canadian, can play guitar, and doesn’t seem to age.  I would list Tegan and Sara but they are lesbians and so I’m already disqualified.

 

 

6.  For some reason, I got into a bad habit growing up, thinking that at least could be written as one word ‘atleast’ … Spell check informs me that this is not a word.  I can’t break the habit though.

 

 

7.  I have a panty fetish.  I’m quite up front about it with my friends.  I guess you can consider yourself a friend now!  Anyways, I just think that the shapes, the fabrics, the colours, are all very beautiful and accent the curves I love on women.  So it’s my fetish.  Did you know that in Japan you can buy worn panties from vending machines?  No, I have not been to Japan, and I think it’s a little creepy to have them in vending machines (imagine being the guy who restocks the machine??  WTF) but I do suppose that if I ever did go to Japan, after my time visiting Zen Monasteries I’d bring a whole bunch of panties back.  Creepy?  A little.  Still not as bad as Fifty Shades of Grey which I am not into, and by all accounts is very poorly written.

 

So that’s 7 things about me.  It just occurred to me that if you like these 7 things, maybe I should be playing that Miley Cyrus one hit wonder ’7 Thing I Hate About You’ which has a fantastic resolution with her listing the 7 things she likes about the guy.  It’s been a pleasure to stroll off the path this evening and do something personal.  Thanks for the award and I look forward to treating you all to some more poetry in the morning!

 

 

-RyRy

a.k.a

CozyblanketSnowflakeRepetitionCompulsion

 

 

 

P.S.

Accepting applications for email pen pal friendships … should something you read make you think, I’d like to know this guy, and you enjoy swapping emails you can email me at

ry_andrew@hotmail.com

On Being Politically Correct

 

 

Canadians are known for being politically correct in their use of language.  This has been something, that, as a Canadian, has been a part of my life and vocabulary since I learned to talk.

Below are my inventions for new, somewhat cheeky, politically correct terms.

Before:  Gay Rights

 

After:  Social Sodomy

 

 

Before:  Alcoholic

 

After:  Ethanol Motivated Individual

 

 

Before:  Abortion

 

After:  Clinical Uterine Voiding

 

 

Before:  Masturbation

 

After:  Solitary Sexual Appeasement

 

I think you get the idea with the examples I have provided.  It’s all a matter of diction.  It’s all a matter of making something dirty into something fancy.  Having fun with words is the joy of being a writer!

So, readers, why not leave a comment with a word to challenge me and I’ll reply with what I can best come up with! 

Comment below!

Today’s Post Inspired by:  Daily Prompt

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Writing Bigger Than Myself

i’ve gotta write some crap

some crap i’ve gotta write

about my life, about love

make pretend i am some guru

or some french resistance pen held loose

smoking filtered cigarettes and looking through your soul

~

truth is i’m a plain old fellow

never made too many pennies by putting on airs

but i suppose that’s got to be okay

~

but when

yes, when

did i turn into a statician

and feel pain at dwindling counts

and when did the pennies start to matter

i guess i just wanted to write something

bigger than myself

Something Meaningful

Something Meaningful

Cover via Amazon

 

I try to transmit emotion and meaning through my poems, it’s also important to find meaning in the writing’s of others.  In the same way that I read many blogs and either feel an impact or not, I haven’t abandoned books — yet.

 

I like to keep my poetry gritty and cathartic.  Whatever mess is going on in my head, throughout, but mostly at the end of the day, get’s spilled out here; hence the subtitle “Poems at Midnight”.

 

When I write the darkest, deepest, and most shockingly obscene poetic vignettes before I slumber, I have better dreams at night.  Occasionally, I’d like to offer something inspirational.  There isn’t a huge demand for inspirational blogs, there are enough.  Facebook, too, is littered with photos and captions to a sickeningly optimistic level.

 

Here is an inspirational excerpt from the book A Path With Heart :

 

 ”I was called to visit a man in a San Francisco hospital by his sister.  He was in his late thirties and already rich.  He had a construction company, a sailboat, a    ranch, a town house, the works.  One day when driving along in his BMW, he blacked out.  Tests showed that he had a brain tumor, a melanoma, a rapid-growing type of cancer.  The doctor said, “We want to operate on you, but I must warn you that the tumor is in the speech and comprehension center.  If we remove the tumor, you may lose all ability to read, to write, to speak, to understand any language.  If we don’t operate, you probably have six more weeks to live.  Please consider this.  We want to operate in the morning.  Let us know by then.

 

I visited this man that evening.  He had become very quiet and reflective.  As you can imagine, he was in an extraordinary state of consciousness.  Such an awakening will sometimes come from our spiritual practice, but for him it came   through these exceptional circumstances.  When we spoke, this man did not talk about his ranch or sailboat or his money.  Where he was headed, they don’t take the currency of bank-books and BMWs.  All that is valuable in times of great change is the currency of our heart—the ability and understandings of the heart that have grown within us.

 

Twenty years before, in the late 1960s, this man had done a little Zen meditation, had read a bit of Alan Watts, and when he faced this moment, that is what he drew on and what he wanted to talk about: his spiritual life and understanding of birth and death.  After a most heartfelt conversation, he stopped to be silent for a time and reflect.  The he turned to me and said, “I’ve had enough of talking.   Maybe I’ve said too many words.  This evening it seems so precious just to have a drink of tap water or to watch the pigeons on the windowsill of the medical center fly off through the air.  I’m not finished with this life.  Maybe I’ll just live it more silently.”  So he asked to have the operation.  After fourteen hours of surgery by a fine surgeon, his sister visited him in the recovery room.  He looked up at her and said, “Good morning.”

(Kornfield, 1993, p.16-17)

 

 

 

Full Reference:

 

Kornfield, J. (1993). A path with heart: A guide through the perils and promises of spiritual life. New York, NY: Bantom Books

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Gold Lion – Time to Open Your Box Cozy!




 

 

Gold Lion by Yeah Yeah Yeahs

 

Question:  Who likes chicks with chipped punk rock nail polish who can rock?

Answer:  Me

There’s been a bit of irony, a bit of grit, and a whole pandora’s box of sacredly profane poems coming to me and this song is the anthem to kick off things with a bit of edge!

Let it begin!

 

- Cozy Blanket

~V~

Dominating Ayn Rand

I made Ayn Rand wait…

~~

Until her hair grew to the dimples above her arse
And she had decoratively shaved a design into the hair on her mons

~~

And when she licked my Caucasian ooze from my smooth bare testes clean,
And let me inspect under her tongue
Then…
Only Then…

~~

Did I let her speak of Capitalism

Mozza Sticks

Brass railings
Topped burgundy benched booths
Boxed in with deeply stained grain wood dividers

– not cherry, perhaps oak
– just thank jeebus it was not pine

~~

Bradbury curled a hair
Twisting his subconscious bean
As he doodled on the cotton white cocktail napkin

~~

“I hear Heller is bringing some girls tonight” he mumbled.

Slinking a pirate sword cherry against the ice

“He ought to,” I said

“He’s so enthusiastic about the syndicate… All that everyone has a…”

“… share” Bradbury chuckled completing my thought

~~

Heller arrived alone
Rumpled like a cloth potato sack slunk into a pile at a dusty Idaho farm co-op

“Mozza sticks on me” he said cheerily

“What about the…” started Bradbury.

“They were all too tired after Natley’s whorehouse made them wash their panties this week” Heller grumbled

~~

*Sigh*

“Another writers circle…
jerk…” I bemoaned

“Yes” came a dull chorused reply

~~

At least we’ll have Mozza Sticks

This time…

Haiku – Muse

~

losing religion

god sends me poem’s muse

kinky little whore

~

Poem – I Once …

 

I once knew life outside of poems

Now life — my libido

Is pent up to be poured

Ev’ry midnight

Into them

 

–

 

I once knew a girl outside of pictures

Real skin, warm hands

A liveliness

In her eyes

And in the heaving motion

Of the rise and fall of her chest

 

‘T is a pity

That was years ago

 

–

 

I once talked of dreams

Of becoming a somebody

Until

I realized I had some ‘body’

But time was running out

To use it up

 

–

 

I once had a friend

Who was worth more to me

Than seven billion brilliant shining stars

And now,

I have poems

At Midnight

Poem – Me and E.E. Writing In Our Diary at Midnight

all day long

I’m busy

singing songs

and

this

is

one

of them…

–

the ellipsis

is the

searching

gaze

in my eyes

searching

not for diction

but

for

meaning …

and love …

–

whilst i was busy

plotting turns

and spinning

wheels

the calm

came,

and said,

“this really is benign”

–

and i fussed

and

struggled against

the sheets

wrapped

around

my shoulders

and

ankles

and tossed

them

on to

you

imaginary

lass

of an aging

rockstar’s

dream

–

the answer

was to

be

found

in

neither

the instruction

to push

or

to pull

but

simply,

in

a cup

of

warm tea