The Writer’s Arrow

Wishing all my blogging friends a happy and productive week. A little Monday motivation…

TANYA CLIFF

Little quill, on an inkwell, rests. The stationary lives up to its name. Ideas die in wait on a solid oak desk where an empty chair defies its game. Silence echoes your nothings. A woodpecker pecks on your window frame with intensity that rattles his brain. He needs to eat.

The poor starve. Their bellies ache.

“So it is with the world!” you shout into the pillow.

No one hears you from your bed where you scratch notes. The pencil line you draw with those words simply chases its tail around your margins. You break the lead. You crumple the paper and throw it across the room. At least the paper sees some action. It flies through the air and lands just short of your garbage bin. You leave it there with a few of its cousins. You pull up the covers and sleep among your eraser droppings.

Don’t you…

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Returning

The air in my corner of the world is crisp with an autumn chill, and the leaves are just starting to turn. I am escaping outside to enjoy it, returning to a favorite place…

TANYA CLIFF

as a child
through woodland wandered
touched the roots
with gentle feet
heard the rumble
wisdom ancient
patience
tapping
riches
deep

grown I walk
through concrete wasteland
trip on cracks
with tired toes
hear the grumbles
people modern
hurried
rushing
vacant
flows

return me now
to verdant fields
surrounding me
the soft wind thrills
heaven pressed
the air’s alluring
nature
soothing
my soul
stills

~

Words and Photography ©2017 Tanya Cliff ~ to contact me

Posted in poetry & free verse. Bookmark the permalink.

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With Reservation

“You might as well expect the rivers to run backward as that any man who was born a free man should be contented when penned up and denied liberty to go where he pleases.” – Chief joseph (In-mut-too-yah-lat-lat, Thunder traveling over the Mountains)
#humanrights #EndFamilyDetention #NoBanNoWall

TANYA CLIFF

“Words do not pay for my dead people.”

Shall we talk
about
it
awhile while we travel the miles
of
defiled
land
slaughtered
animals
murdered
people
that
lead
to a
place
you will be
graciously confined to
called
a
reservation
but
you
don’t
need
an
application
just
lose
your
apprehension
and
stay
put
here
awhile while we hand out the piles
of
stingy
food
rationed
goods
white man’s
ways
that
you
are
being
graciously supplied
without
hesitation.

“Good words will not give me back my children.”

Yes, but you fled
showing great
premonition
against our
demands,

AND

we require
your
supplication
without
RESERVATION.

“Treat all men alike. Give them all the same law.”

Sure, just submit
to our
imposed
economic
spiritual
cultural
bounded
limitations

until we discover the next resource we want.

“Give them all an even chance to live and grow.”

You ARE free to live
and grow –

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Sensuous

On a cold morning in spring for a lot of us, I thought I would heat things up with a warm Rictameter posted in March of 2017. This piece includes a link to Linda J. Wollf’s explanation and example of the poetry form.

TANYA CLIFF

unfold
from verdant bud
petals’ shy revealing
blushing at the sun’s warm kisses
the hidden nectar, a sweet seduction
to hungry dance of birds and bees
sensuous, you make seed
so new life may
unfold

~

Words and Photography ©2017 Tanya Cliff ~ to contact me

Entry posted in poetry & Rictameter Verse. Bookmark the permalink.

~

Please check out Linda J. Wollf’s  explanation and example of Rictameter Verse:

https://urbanpoetry2017.com/2017/03/16/poetry-between-sunrises-and-sunsets/

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Should I Warn the Neighbors?

Green grass grows from my newly thawed yard. Smoke bombs and backyard craziness to follow…
Have a beautiful weekend, everyone! 💐🌷🌺🌼💕😎😊😉🤣

TANYA CLIFF

“Should I warn the neighbors?”

We are lighting a smoke bomb today. I’m good at this. If the wind is favorable, the smoke will travel to the top of the old, oak tree that towers over my driveway. No one called the fire department in a panic last time. The man across the street lingered in his own driveway sweeping leaves that didn’t exist just so he could watch, but we avoided the sirens and red and blue lights.

Still, it’s a dilemma. Do we alert people or not?

This time we are shooting a stop-motion video in Barbie-doll scale. The smoke bomb for this shoot is full, human-sized. I could engulf a pink, plastic convertible many times bigger than the one my Ken doll occupies. That is a lot of smoke. It should make for a good sequence of stop-motion pictures, unless I am engulfed in smoke too, in…

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A Warming Tanka

As the weather dips to cold temperatures in my corner of the globe, I am sharing an old post as an encouragement to remember the homeless and poor in this holiday season. Happy Holidays to all my blogging friends around the world!

TANYA CLIFF

white blankets the earth

frigid air through forest blows

my child with bare legs

while plants sleep tucked under snow

your pants I warm by the fire

~

On the coldest days of the year, please remember that someone in your town is homeless.

Words and Photography ©2016 Tanya Cliff ~ to contact me

Entry posted in tanka & poetry. Bookmark the permalink.

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4 – The Captain of the Guards

Chapter 4! Thank you to everyone who has downloaded the book. It will remain a permafree book on Smashwords.

Check this out: “The Lightbearer” is now available as a FREE eBook on Smashwords, including epub (Nook) and mobi (Kindle) downloads, link in text. I am sharing the first four chapters here this week. The next book in the series, “Nine”, is scheduled for release at the end of the month.

TANYA CLIFF

“Shouldn’t the Captain of the Guards be out…guarding…something?”

Ajie moved to pass the tall figure blocking his way through the corridor, but Eijivar matched him step-for-step, waving his hand like he wanted to swat Ajie down the hallway and back to the grounds outside. Ajie stopped.

“Well? You are the Captain of the Guard…of Many Guards. Certainly, there is something out there you need to watch over?”

Eijivar ran a hand down his long, blond hair and brushed it over the silver-scrolled, emerald fabric of his fitted vest, as if to flick off the imaginary dirt that Ajie had dragged in from the forest. The two male Valdaren companions, similarly dressed to Eijivar, chuckled. Eijivar looked back at them furiously and nodded his head for them to leave. The look silenced them, and they both walked away. He turned back to Ajie and scowled.

Ajie, dressed in the plain greens…

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