Poetry

All posts tagged Poetry

Weekend Writing Prompt – Megalith

Published September 20, 2020 by rochellewisoff

A word prompt to get your creativity flowing this weekend.  How you use the prompt is up to you.  Write a piece of flash fiction, a poem, a chapter for your novel…anything you like.  Or take the challenge below – there are no prizes – it’s not a competition but rather a fun writing exercise.  If you want to share what you come up with, please leave a link to it in Sammi’s Comment Section.

I love the challenge of learning a new word and then using it creatively. And this one was a challenge. So I digressed to a darker time in my life. Not to garner sympathy. I’ve recently finished a novel with the working title “Last Dance with Annie” based on my own experience with an eating disorder. Much of it is fiction, but a lot of it isn’t. So, without further exposition, this is where the muse took me this morning. 

She walked the line

Between brilliance and insanity

Writing

Drawing

Obsessive Compulsive.

Drowning in the river

Denial

Chipping away at the megalith

She couldn’t climb.

Her mirror lied

Demons dined

Until she made a decision.

No looking back.

The boulder crushed to powder,

She writes, paints and

Celebrates life.

*Below are three of the many sketches I did as art therapy during the dark times. If you look closely you can see they’re dated 1992. A different place. A different person. 

Weekend Writing Prompt – Intrepid

Published May 30, 2020 by rochellewisoff

A word prompt to get your creativity flowing this weekend.  How you use the prompt is up to you.  Write a piece of flash fiction, a poem, a chapter for your novel…anything you like.  Or take the challenge below – there are no prizes – it’s not a competition but rather a fun writing exercise.  If you want to share what you come up with, please leave a link to it in Sammi’s Comment Section.

This week the prompt took me back to a poem I wrote when my youngest son was somewhere between four and six. It’s been a long time ago. 😉 I wrote a lot of poetry back then as a means of journalling. I took this one out of mothballs and gave it a trim and an overhaul. The sketch is from the same time.  

Original Artwork © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields 

 

DAUNTLESS

Today you are a cowboy

Astride your faithful steed.

Other times you’re an intrepid warrior

Stalking family pets.

You live in a world all your own,

Chattering for hours

About nothing in particular.

By turns you are both angel and rogue,

Challenging me to love you

At all cost

To my sanity.

Some Even Call it Poetry

Published May 7, 2018 by rochellewisoff

Many thanks to Marsha Gershun who, for the third year in a row has organized the CloudBursT at Beth Torah Synagogue in Overland Park, Kansas. 

Martha Gershun

This was my second year to participate. Although, only a handful of us turned up, it was a lovely time to share our individual Jewish experience.

Two of my Hebrew students came to support me…Joy and Joie…so you could say it was a joyful experience. 😉 I wish I’d thought to take a picture of the two of them. Alas, I didn’t so you’ll have to take my word for it that they are two very lovely ladies.

Although I would love to have shared a few other readers, my husband’s smartphone could only take so much. So for your watching and listening (hopefully) pleasure, here’s my part of the program. My Friday Fictioneers and other Pegman participants will undoubtedly recognize these pieces.

 

29 December 2017

Published December 27, 2017 by rochellewisoff

 

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The next photo is the PROMPT. Remember, all photos are property of the photographer, donated for use in Friday Fictioneers only. They shouldn’t be used for any other purpose without express permission. It is proper etiquette to give the contributor credit. 

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The following is an edited version of a poem I wrote in the 90’s while battling severe depression and anorexia nervosa which is about control. I thought I was in control but, almost too late, realized the demon was controlling me.  To sort through my confusion I wrote poetry as a means of journaling. Happily, this is no longer my reality, but at the time…

Genre: Adverse Verse

Word Count: 100

VICIOUS CYCLE

Knotted cords surround my thoughts

Like twine that binds a package;

Profusion of convolution, confusion

No solution

Seeking resolution, absolution.

            I’m choking

                        On the dry bread of shame.

And I’m left no choice

But to savagely purge myself.

Cathartic poison,

Painful comfort.

I run a perilous race

To a fatal finish line.

Lethal, venomous humiliation besieges me.

The sins of the forefathers,

Cousins, babysitters and uncles  

Devour and bury.

The demon lures and captures me

In his serpentine embrace.

Too weary to resist seduction,

I relinquish and surrender.

Profusion of convolution, confusion

            No solution

Seeking resolution, absolution

To what conclusion?

 

Dancing into Writing

Published August 19, 2013 by rochellewisoff

            As a mime and interpretive dancer I’ve had some interesting opportunities over the years, from performing at outdoor festivals to prisons.

            How would this lead to writing?  Perhaps my title is misleading.

            The following video, now on You Tube, was the introduction to a play I co-wrote with my cousin, Kent Bonham, entitled The First Nights of Hanukkah. Both of us took on many roles ranging from actor to director. The dance number, filmed by Kent, opened the production. If you look through the black and white blur you might recognize the dancer. 

            Act one of First Nights is set in 1930. Hence, the reason the banner at the beginning of the film says “Kansas City 1930” (I’m not really that old). 

                          

            Our somewhat rough collaboration was an exhilarating experience. Hours of character development and dialogue writing over Greek food and Turkish tea with a side of laughter heralded the beginning of my writing career. My first novel Please Say Kaddish for Me was originally to be a prequel to the play.  As often is the case, the characters wrote themselves in quite another direction.  Hopefully the manuscript, in my agent Jeanie Loiacono’s capable hands, will soon find a home while I edit the second novel, From Silt and Ashes. 

           Meanwhile, after eight years,  my passion’s  unbroken, my yearning’s unending.  

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