Weaving Gold

Mokosha, Anastasia Sophia, and Me, Natalia . . . while the books are written

Blank Canvas

After the heart has been broken,
After the body’s been bled,
drained, depleted,
A stray spark sets the husk afire.

White-hot flame incinerates,
destroys, ashifies
what remained when all was already gone,
liberaring secreted seed.

Deprived desired death
life insists:
Grow on.

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How Now?

How can I be
Lost in a sea
   an ocean
   a multiverse
of obfuscation

Swimming in despondency
Flailing through atrocity
Sensing expansiveness
Failing to grasp the life-ring: clarity

How can I crawl
Survive vicious brawl
   viscous battle
   world war
of Dark versus Light

Lying low and hiding
Weeping, quivering, biding
Feeling terror
Too weak to reach helping hands that might not be there

How can I fly
Glide through the sky
   the cosmos
   the omniverse
of potentiality

Soar in delight
Enjoy day and night
Drenched in magnificence
Living free

for Kate and Carrie

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Springtime Mystery

Bundle of green leaves
What are you becoming when
Whorls unfurl

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Beta-Read

makosh_s.jpgWords that flowed
from Divine Inspiration.
Tidbits gathered
with painstaking research.
Sentences strung together
rearranged, rewritten,
reconsidered a hundred times.
Questioned. Criticized. Corrected.
Changes suggested.
“Give me more!” — when I think
I’ve given all I have to give.

New awareness!
Scope expansion.
Inspiration.
Reaching farther back.
Writing deeper in.
Again.

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Sister Wisdom Found

 

18077814Weaving together the stories of Diana Morgan, a low-rung Oxford scholar, and Myrina, founder of the Amazons, Lost Sisterhood is a tale of adventure, ancient secrets, love, and wisdom. I loved the book and marked several quotes. Today, I’m sharing a few favorites for Writers’ Quote Wednesday.

So now you know why I think all talk of borders and colors and nationalities is absurd. People try to pin you down on a map and paint you a certain color to make everything simple. But the world is far from simple, and intelligent human beings don’t like to be pinned down and painted by some hand in the sky, whether it belongs to a god, a priest, or a politician.


Anne Fortier
 grew up in Denmark, but immigrated to the United States in 2002. She holds a Ph.D. in the History of Ideas and co-produced the Emmy-winning documentary Fire and Ice: The Winter War of Finland and Russia (2005). Her first novel in English, JULIET (2010), was published in over 30 countries and became a New York Times bestseller.

Only kings are put in writing, you know. Kings and heroes. The rest of us are but fading echoes in the valley of eternity.

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Here, we chop wood to keep warm. If you think that’s amateurish, all I can say to you is this: You are more vulnerable than you think.


 

030816_1826_writersquot1.pngMy contribution for #WQW

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Writer’s Block, Loosened

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The Magic Circle by John William Waterhouse, 1886 (public domain)

 

Open unmarked page.
Words creep on, splay.
Thoughts contract,
Vanish.
Blank!
Anguish.
Persevere!
Stir the cauldron.
Create magical worlds.


 

Inspired by Jane Dougherty’s Poetry challenge #20: Hourglass poetry. Mine looks more like a chalice than an hourglass.

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Hoping against Hope

ukrainka

Lesia Ukrainka, Ukrainian poet

Lesia Ukrainka is one of Ukraine’s best loved poets and playwrights. She achieved a broad education by self-tuition. She knew all of the major Western European languages as well as Greek and Latin and the Slavic languages (Russian, Polish, Bulgarian, and others). She was equally familiar with world history and at 19 wrote a textbook for her sisters, published in 1918 as Ancient History of the Eastern Peoples. Lesia Ukrainka translated a great deal (eg, Nikolai Gogol, Adam Mickiewicz, Heinrich Heine, Victor Hugo, Homer). Suffering from tuberculosis, she traveled to Germany, Austria-Hungary, Italy, Egypt, and, several times, the Caucasia in search of a cure. Travel exposed her to new enriching experiences and broadened her horizons. Lesia Ukrainka began writing poetry at a very early age.

In celebration of Lesia Ukrainka’s birthday on February 25, my contribution to Writer’s Quote Wednesday is one of her best-known poems poem, translated to English.

Contra spem spero (I hope against hope)

Abscond ruminations, you autumn clouds!
For  tis springtime, agleam with gold!
Shall in grief and wailing for ill-fortune
All the tale of my young years be told?

No, I want to smile through tears and weeping,
Sing my songs where evil holds its sway,
Without hope, indeed keep on dreaming,
I want to live! Thoughts of grief, go away!

On poor sad fallow land unused to tilling
I’ll sow blossoms, brilliant in hue,
I’ll sow blossoms where the frost lies, chilling,
I’ll pour bitter tears on them as due.

And those hot tears shall loosen
All that mighty crust of ice away.
Maybe flowers shall sprout and herald
A happy springtime for me, some day.

Up the flinty steep and craggy mountain
A weighty ponderous boulder I shall raise,
And bearing this dread burden, a resounding
Song I’ll sing, a song of joyous praise.

In the long dark ever-viewless night-time
Not one instant shall I close my eyes,
I’ll seek ever for the star to guide me,
She that reigns bright mistress of dark skies.

Yes, I’ll smile, indeed, through tears and weeping
Sing my songs where evil holds its sway,
Hopeless, a steadfast hope forever keeping,
I shall live! You thoughts of grief, away!

Historical Information: Encyclopedia of Ukraine

Translation inspired by Vera Rich, modified by me

In the original Ukrainian, written May 2, 1890

Contra spem spero!

Гетьте, думи, ви хмари осінні!
То ж тепера весна золота!
Чи то так у жалю, в голосінні
Проминуть молодії літа?

Ні, я хочу крізь сльози сміятись,
Серед лиха співати пісні,
Без надії таки сподіватись,
Жити хочу! Геть, думи сумні! 

Я на вбогім сумнім перелозі
Буду сіять барвисті квітки,
Буду сіять квітки на морозі,
Буду лить на них сльози гіркі.

І від сліз тих гарячих розтане
Та кора льодовая, міцна,
Може, квіти зійдуть – і настане
Ще й для мене весела весна.

Я на гору круту крем’яную
Буду камінь важкий підіймать
І, несучи вагу ту страшную,
Буду пісню веселу співать.

В довгу, темную нічку невидну
Не стулю ні на хвильку очей –
Все шукатиму зірку провідну,
Ясну владарку темних ночей.

Так! я буду крізь сльози сміятись,
Серед лиха співати пісні,
Без надії таки сподіватись,
Буду жити! Геть, думи сумні! 


contribution to Writer’s Quote Wednesday by Silver Threading 022916_2254_wqwwriters1.png

 

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Shelfies are the new Selfies

I recently discovered that shelfies are a thing. Some definitions say that a shelfie is a picture of your bookshelf. A recent Mashable article described them as a photo of yourself with your bookshelf — book spines legible.

Shelfies must be the best trend ever. Tweet me your shelfie? @weavinggold Or, share a link to your Goodreads favorites page in the comments. I’d love to take a peak at your bookshelf. #RevealYourself

Some of my favorites live on my Kindle.
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For all the Frimes

Gelett Burgess Quote with Night Rainbow.jpg

As a writer, I harbor a small hope that my words will live forever, touching future generations. With the superabundance of books, blogs, tweets, and quips in existence, my dream seems unlikely. While others will take charge (or not) of my legacy, I can keep alive the words of my favorite authors.

220px-Gelett_BurgessFrank Gelett Burgess (January 30, 1866 – September 18, 1951) was an artist, art critic, poet, author, and humorist. He is best known as a writer of nonsense verse and the author of the still in-print Goops stories, books about manners, for kids.

The Goops they lick their fingers,
And the Goops they lick their knives,
They spill their broth on the tablecloth –
Oh, they lead disgusting lives!

He coined the term blurb and wrote his own dictionary.

Some excellent and useful words:

alibosh – glaringly obvious falsehood or exaggeration

drillig – a tiresome lingerer, one who talks too long

flooijab – an apparent compliment with a concealed sting

huzzlecoo – an intimate talk; a confidential colloquy

kipe – to inspect critically; to appraise pragmatically

cow’cat – a person whose main function is to occupy space

frime – an educated heart; one who deserves the right thing

I discovered Gelett Burgess through A Little Sister of Destiny, a book published in 1906 that I found in an antique store a century later. (Just discovered that it’s been republished this year. Highly recommended!) I loved it so much that I started a modern-day retelling of Miss Million’s tale. I hope to complete it one day.

 


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#Writer’sQuoteWednesday & #BeWow 

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Budapest Dreaming

Duvet bright — warms, lulls,
shields morning light. Sleep tight,
travel-weary girl.

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RonovanWrites #Weekly #Haiku #Poetry Prompt #Challenge #85 Tight&Warm

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