Enameled azure sky domes.
Layer upon layer upon layer upon layer upon layer of now red deathly ocean rain rest in cresting crystal seas of dust.
A terminal parabola falls, talons poised.
Life turns to death turns to life turns to shit falling in writhing, turbulent, splattering globules to nurture cloying, purple, nighttime cactus blooms.
In my journey as a writer, I’ve been plugging away at short stories and have tried my hand at self-publishing. The next peak to scale is my first novel. I’m just over 38,000 words so far, and I’m hoping to land it at around 43,000+.
I’ve been eyeing the annual Clarion West summer workshop for a couple of years now as a way to help take my writing to a new level, but I’ve had way too much going on in my life to justify applying to attend.
I have found a way to participate vicariously, and that’s through their concurrent write-a-thon. I’ve signed up this year as a way to motivate myself towards applying for next year and to help them raise some funds for future workshops and scholarships.
My goals are twofold: help them raise a few dollars and prod myself to finish my novel so I can bring in the draft for my second novel next year.
If you’ve enjoyed reading my short stories and poetry here, I’d appreciate it if you’d sponsor me. I’d really appreciate it.
I’ll be posting updates under the writeathon tag, so you can follow along.
Thank you!
Chris
What will you do when the snow melts, when Spring returns again?
Will you happily skip in alpine fields and soak the sun into your toes?
Will you eagerly tremble amidst the budded riot?
What will you do when dawn comes, when you must awaken?
Will you smile at birdsong filling your room?
Will you joyously swim in sheets of light?
What will you do when the storm ends, when the skies turn to azure?
Will you drink the air in great cleansing gulps?
Will you feel the Earth growing you up?
What will you do when the world ends, when you become the universe?
Will you remember the smiles and the laughs?
Will you know in your heart the measure of your deeds?
What will you do in the starlight, when time counts up?
Will you play unbounded?
Will you smile and love, and embrace the chaos?
Will you?
Loudest at our silences
Amidst the lace of life
Fairies flit and caper
Exhorting us to join
Capitalism is a devourer
trading time for money
and if you’re lucky
the money for time
away from earning the money.
Life is not a balance sheet
yet we are encouraged to account
for every moment
when our accounting is often sloppy.
While happiness
may earn interest
ennui compounds
more quickly
for the spendthrift.
Posted in Photography, Poetry
Tagged money, Olympic Mountains, photography, poetry, time
