My last post in 2018, the last stanza of another new piece,

"third person":

her daytime nightmare
lasers to his brother who tried
wanted
to break her

© 13 December 2018
Cindy B. Stevens

#Brother #Daytime #Nightmare #BeWriting #AmWriting #AmEditing #BookLove #Bookworm #BookwormForLife #Dream #IloveWriting #LoveWriting #Inspiration #IGpoet #IGpoetry #Poet #Poetry #PoetryBlog #PoetLife #PoetryLover #WritersOfInstagram #WritersOfIG #WritersCommunity #WritersCorner #Wordsmith #WritersNetwork #Write #Writing #HillsboroughNC

two stanzas from "it's not about December":

I exhaust me

I hear wind before it reaches my hair

breeze sways my nightgown

trees shadow an orangey pale-pink sky

sunrise at the stable
blue-bright morning star

ice on boughs like crystals and diamonds on firs

shatters to the ground

splits my silence like bagpipes in Brooklyn

I stay, wait, hope

I go back to the manger

© Cindy B. Stevens

18 December 2018

#December #Manger #Bagpipes #Brooklyn #BeWriting #AmWriting #AmEditing #BookLove #Bookworm #BookwormForLife #Dream #IloveWriting #LoveWriting #Inspiration #IGpoet #IGpoetry #Poet #Poetry #PoetryBlog #PoetLife #PoetryLover #WritersOfInstagram #WritersOfIG #WritersCommunity #WritersCorner #Wordsmith #WritersNetwork #Write #Writing #HillsboroughNC

home movies and holiday

Our holiday:  Charleston on Thursday, then Tennessee.  We cancelled Charleston, postponed Tennessee.  I've been viral since Sunday.  It's home movies day.  My brother gave me Grandpa's projector, home movies from the early 60s.  Trips, friends, family, flowers; our grandparents LOVED flowers.

Richard set up the screen, projector in our family room; I identify relatives, some flowers.  Rochester's Highland Park, along with my family and my uncle's.  We ride the mower, and the small garden tractor that pulled a cart.  Young, silly, loved.

Couples, grandparents' contemporaries, arrive for a meeting, dinner, something.  Men wear suits, dark fedoras; the women, dresses, pearls.  They look like gangsters with wives.  My grandparents with friends vacation in Florida.  Cypress Gardens, Orchid House, water-skiing acrobats, flamingos, peacocks, tropical birds, Shetland ponies.

My family's Syracuse life, the youngest movie of my brothers and me.  We rollerskate the sidewalk, wave American flags as we skate, Independence Day.  The same skates that Dad mounted to the bottom of curved 24 inch boards to craft our skateboards in Norfolk:  ships,  softball, meals.  We're young; my parents beautiful.  I forgot how beautiful, how they smiled.

Another visit with grandparents; if we watched these reels in chronological order, this would be the last.  I'm in 7th grade, Dale 9th, Grant 10th.  Fifi and Muffin with us, running around the property beside the creek, chasing with my brothers and Dad.

Last reel:  Flowers at Highland; Autumn view at home; Sky divers; Kennedy's funeral proc.; Norfolk Navy Base.  Hot house flowers, friends, family.⠀ Grandpa's cousin was in Naval Intelligence, my grandparents visited him, his family frequently.  JFK's funeral procession, afterwards, no smiles for the camera.

© 22 December 2018

Cindy B. Stevens

#HomeMovies #Memories #Family #Flowers #JFK #HorseDrawnCaisson #BeWriting #AmWriting #AmEditing #Bookworm #BookLove #LoveWriting #Inspiration #IGpoet #IGpoetry #Poet #Poetry #PoetryBlog #PoetLife #PoetryLover #WritersOfInstagram #Writer #WritersCommunity #WritersCorner #Wordsmith #WritersNetwork #Write #Writing #HillsboroughNC

is it enough?

There's a scramble in my brain and I have a headache.  The scramble hasn't given me the headache, it's been here for 2 days and I can't seem to get rid of it.  Here's a wee bit of the scramble.

It's the gift season.  Some wrapped in gloss, plain, patterns, some tied with bows, fancy ribbons, string.  Sometimes, I'm all wrapped up in myself or tied in knots.  I want to be unwrapped, untied.

We want gifts; we give gifts; we are gifts; we all have gifts.  We hide, share, hoard, doubt our gifts.  The doubt grabs my brain; it tells my hand to not write or expose my vulnerability.  If I write it, will it tear me apart, make me stronger, can I manage it?  Will it speak, touch?  Will it be too much? Will it be enough?

© 17 December 2018
Cindy B. Stevens

#hide #share #doubt #gift #vulnerable #BeWriting #AmWriting #AmEditing #Bookworm #BookLove #Dream #IloveWriting #LoveWriting #Inspiration #IGpoet #IGpoetry #Poet #Poetry #PoetryBlog #PoetLife #PoetryLover #WritersOfInstagram #WritersOfIG #WritersCommunity #WritersCorner #Wordsmith #WritersNetwork #Write #Writing #HillsboroughNC

I never saw him leave

I plan to read and sing at open mic tonight.  Here’s a few lines of a piece I’ve almost “finished”.  Ha.  The title is “I never saw him leave”:

last Thursday, he stopped calling me

because he’s not here to touch
my body rocks to comfort me

© Cindy B. Stevens
29 November 2018

#BeWriting #AmWriting #AmEditing #BookLove #Bookworm #BookwormForLife #Dream #IloveWriting #LoveWriting #Inspiration #IGpoet #IGpoetry #Poet #Poetry #PoetryBlog #PoetLife #PoetryLover #WritersOfInstagram #WritersOfIG #WritersCommunity #WritersCorner #Wordsmith #WritersNetwork #Write #Writing #Local #HillsboroughNC @kingstreetbarKSB #OpenMic

no salt

I just finished a piece for my next book with this line:  “there is no salt in the pantry”.

© 19 November 2017
Cindy B. Stevens

#bread #salt #pantry #burn #BeWriting #AmWriting #AmEditing #Bookworm #BookLove #Dream #IloveWriting #LoveWriting #Inspiration #IGpoet #IGpoetry #Poet #Poetry #PoetryBlog #PoetLife #PoetryLover #WritersOfInstagram #WritersOfIG #WritersCommunity #WritersCorner #Wordsmith #WritersNetwork #Write #Writing #Local #HillsboroughNC

I've been remiss

I've not posted my last few.  I've posted on Facebook and Instagram, but it's not automatically posted from Buffer to my blog.  I apologize to anyone who checks in on my blog.  My website designer has encouraged me to post regularly on these social media platforms, but sometimes I feel overwhelmed trying to balance what happens in my brain, getting it down on paper, and what to share with you.  So, this evening I will catch you up.  Thank you for reading!

a portion of "my circus"

This stanza is a portion of my poem, titled “my circus” for the next book:
 . . .
my catcher is the morning star
he blinds my daredevil
I inhale his whispered promise
release my panicked grip
fly through a loud hush
my catcher grabs my wrists

© Cindy B. Stevens
16 November 2017

#trapeze #circus #promise #rescue #BeWriting #AmWriting #AmEditing #Bookworm #BookLove #Dream #IloveWriting #LoveWriting #Inspiration #IGpoet #IGpoetry #Poet #Poetry #PoetryBlog #PoetLife #PoetryLover #WritersOfInstagram #WritersOfIG #WritersCommunity #WritersCorner #Wordsmith #WritersNetwork #Write #Writing #Local #HillsboroughNC

a line from Jack's next novel . . .

 

I’m a character in Jack’s next novel but I’m
going to sleep all day

© Cindy B. Stevens
21 August 2018


#sleep #novel #BeWriting #AmWriting #AmEditing #Bookworm #BookLove #Dream #IloveWriting #LoveWriting #Inspiration #IGpoetry #Poet #Poetry #PoetryBlog #PoetryBlogger #PoetryBlogpost #PoetLife #PoetryLover #WritersOfInstagram #WritersOfIG #WritersCommunity #WritersCorner #Wordsmith #WritersNetwork #Write #Writing #Local #HillsboroughNC #OrangeCounty

I LOVE this piece by John Walker on friendship:

I LOVE this piece by John Walker on friendship:

“With the falling of the leaves, the masks of green are stripped off the hillsides revealing the diversity and uniqueness of each ridge and valley, rock and stream, old shed and oil well hither to unseen.  It is in the winter, when the hills bare their innermost selves, that we get to know them.  Then in the spring, when the masks return, we can look at the hills as old friends few others understand.

So it is with people.  Most of the time we wear our masks.  But during the difficult times, during the winters of our lives, we shed the facades and reveal all the intricacies of the unique beings we are.  It is in these moments that friendships are formed, and we experience one another as few ever will.”

#JohnWalker #Winter #Mask #Friend #Friend #Friendship #Reveal #Unique #BeWriting #AmWriting #BookLover #BookLove #Dream #Dreams #IloveWriting #LoveWriting #Inspiration #IGpoetry #Poet #Poetry #PoetryBlog #PoetryBlogger #PoetryBlogpost #PoetLife #PoetryLover #Local #HillsboroughNC  #Hillsborough #NC #OrangeCounty

waiting . . .

How I feel about waiting depends on what I’m waiting for; sometimes I’m impatient, sometimes resigned, sometimes I ask, “Lord, how much longer?” I wait for inspiration and insight, which come in bits and pieces through every day occurrences, contemplation, God’s creations . . . ; I wait for the time when my thoughts and insights make their way from my pen to page. Sometimes, I feel ungrounded. © Cindy B. Stevens 7 September 2018 #Wait #Waiting #Impatient #Impatience #Insight #Daily #Contemplation #Thought #BeWriting #AmWriting #BookLover #BookLove #Dream #Dreams #IloveWriting #LoveWriting #Inspiration #IGpoetry #Poet #Poetry #PoetryBlog #PoetryBlogger #PoetryBlogpost #PoetLife #PoetryLover #Local #HillsboroughNC #Hillsborough #NC #OrangeCounty

Golda Meir quote

“Those who do not know how to weep with their whole heart don’t know how to laugh either.”–Golda Meir


#GoldaMeir #Laugh #Laughter #Weep #Heart #BeWriting #AmWriting #BookLover #BookLove #Dream #Dreams #IloveWriting #LoveWriting #Inspiration #IGpoetry #Poet #Poetry #PoetryBlog #PoetryBlogger #PoetryBlogpost #PoetLife #PoetryLover #Local #HillsboroughNC  #Hillsborough #NC #OrangeCounty

sharing a portion of “residual sugar”, a poem ready for my editor:

she gets smaller each time, her back a little more fragile
who will tend the flowers on the graves when she is gone © 17 February 2018 Cindy B. Stevens #Flowers #Graves #Death #BeWriting #AmWriting #BookLover #BookLove #Dream #Dreams #IloveWriting #LoveWriting #Inspiration #IGpoetry #Poet #Poetry #PoetryBlog #PoetryBlogger #PoetryBlogpost #PoetLife #PoetryLover #Local #HillsboroughNC #Hillsborough #NC #OrangeCounty

from my dream

Some of my poems come from dreams that wake me up, like one I had a couple of weeks ago.  As I wrote that particular poem, it became a song.  I’ve just finished it and want to share a line with you. I haven’t decided whether or not to read it at Nash Street Tavern, but it will be in my next book.

 . . . last night I dreamed I was married to the devil . . .

© 14 August 2018

Cindy B. Stevens

#marriage #marry #married #gown #wedding #song #music #ILoveWriting #BeWriting #AmWriting #BookLovers #BookLover #BookLove #WritersOfInstagram #WritersOfIG #WritersCommunity #WritersCorner #WritersCommunity #Inspiration #Suspense #IGpoetry #Poetry #Poet #PoetryLover #PoetryBlog #PoetryBlogger #PoetryBlogPost #Local #HillsboroughNC #OrangeCounty #NashStreetTavern #OpenMic

just thinking . . .

I’ve not posted anything for a bit.  I’m still here, just quiet and thinking.

© 29 August 2018

Cindy B. Stevens

#Solitude #Thinking #Quiet #Writer #Thought #Think #iLoveWriting #Bewriting #Amwriting #BookLover #BookLove #Inspiration #IGpoetry #Poetry #Poet #PoetryLover #PoetryBlog #PoetryBlogger #PoetryBlogpost #Local #HillsboroughNC #OrangeCounty

I am your bridge

old plank across open ditch

cable-stayed
truss
cantilever
draw
bowstring-girder
arch
suspension
a beam
what you need
I am
your bridge

© 12 August 2018
Cindy B. Stevens
(thank you to Brian Hershberger for allowing me to use -“Not the Lion” from his album, Lay Your Hands, 2014)
#Bridge #Bridges #BrianHershberger #NotTheLion #LayYourHands #ILoveWriting #BeWriting #AmWriting #BookLover #BookLove #Inspiration #IGpoetry #Poetry #Poet #PoetryLover #PoetryBlog #PoetryBlogger #PoetryBlogPost #Local #HillsboroughNC #OrangeCounty

https://www.cbspoetry.com

I'm vulnerable . . .

We had a break-in at our home last week; makes me feel pretty vulnerable. Jewelry seemed to be the thief's focus. Most of my jewelry has significant sentimental value. I love rocks and have quite a collection inside our home and out. One of the first things I looked for was my rock from the Aegean Sea that my dad brought to me decades ago. I stored it in my jewelry box, but a few years back, I had it wrapped with gold wire and suspended on a black cord. I breathed a sigh of relief that the thief didn't want it. My book, Naked, focuses quite a bit on vulnerability. I'll be reading Tuesday evening (tomorrow, for those of us who aren't sure what day this is) at Nash Street Tavern's open mic, in Hillsborough; 3 poems, one touches on vulnerability. I hope you can come.

#Bewriting #Amwriting #Inspiration #IGpoetry #Poetry #Poet #Openmic #Local #Hillsboroughnc #Orangecounty Nash Street Tavern

a booster

The other day, I was scheduled for a booster vaccine and had to fill out a form listing drug allergies, medical issues, etc., so, I named my disease.  The pharmacist led the way to the private room and we chatted for a few minutes.  She said, “Oh, I love your shoes!” Then, she asked about my disease.  After a brief discussion, she said that I looked good.  We agreed that this is a sneaky one, and sometimes it helps to look good even when you feel awful.  She said that pretty shoes and lipstick help.  I have an idea for a new poem.

© 27 July 2018

Cindy B. Stevens

a snippet

OCD bubbles my veins . . .

I don't know where this one will take me

stay tuned

© 15 July 2018

Cindy B. Stevens

Grandma's spoon

I have a routine, ritual perhaps, when I write at home, in my study.  I put my grandma’s spoon, the one she received in 1910 when she turned 16 (it’s engraved with the date on the back and her name on front, Maude), into a mug that I’ve pulled from the cupboard, and brew a hot drink.  Now, I’m ready.  I created a document on my Mac titled “one-liners, snippets, starters, & titles”.  If I don’t feel inclined to work on a poem already in progress, I skim through this document and see if anything grabs my attention.  I currently have stuff sitting in the document dating back to 2012, waiting for me to recognize that it would happily pair with something I’ve put in there more recently.  Most of the time, I’m surprised and excited with the discovery, and write until my attention wanes.  Sometimes, I sit at my desk and look out the window into the woods.

© 5 July 2018

Cindy B. Stevens

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Graham Nash

For my 2015 Christmas gift to Richard, I purchased a Graham Nash compact disc and concert tickets.  On 10 February 2016, he and I attended “An Evening with Graham Nash” at the Carolina Theatre in Durham, North Carolina, a small, intimate venue.  A barefooted Graham came out on stage partially lit with candles, walked to the carpeted area, and the night was magical.

I’m a singer and listen to music on my way to work, and sing, because I love to sing and it helps exercise my voice.  This morning I played that Graham Nash album (“This Path Tonight”) and did not sing, just listened.

Those who read my poetry soon realize I’m not a feel-good-emotions poet.  I do write about emotions, not necessarily gloomy, but contemplative, questioning, searching, not joyful.  I’ve been writing these past few weeks since the launch of my first book, Naked, completed a piece yesterday, and will complete another today or tomorrow.  I write my best when contemplative and Graham Nash singing to me this morning enriched that mood.

© 28 June 2018

Cindy B. Stevens

Friday - NOT a poem

I don’t write every day.  I’m a poet.  But, I almost always write on Fridays.

A wireless speaker sits on top of our refrigerator to broadcast the stereo from the living room.  It usually remains on and when it loses its signal, it beeps.  I won’t say who leaves it on.  I was cleaning up after breakfast on Friday and the beeping began.

It’s difficult for me to reach the top of the refrigerator to turn that thing off, so I decided to move it to the turquoise lateral-file-cabinet-repurposed-storage-kitchen-unit, which I can reach.  It holds small appliances, paper towels, supplies for our outside patio meals, cat food, and other stuff.  Well, when I got on the step stool to declutter the top of the turquoise unit, I decided to just remove everything and really declutter.  Of course, it needed to be dusted and wiped down.  After that and putting the clutter where it belonged, it was time for the top of the refrigerator.

I’m not tall enough to see the top of my refrigerator.  I know it’s dusty up there.  I don’t know about y’all, but it’s easy to ignore, so I do.  Not Friday.  I climbed on the step stool.  Some clutter items were thrown out and some put in their logical storage places.  The top was wiped down.  The sponge was thrown away.  Only a few items “necessary” for the refrigerator top remained.  Now, both the turquoise storage unit and the top of the refrigerator are clean and tidy, until another day.  So, no, I didn’t write this past Friday.  But, sometimes cleaning and decluttering a portion of the home cleans my cobwebs and organizes my brain.

my first collection of poetry

Good morning!  I've been away from my blog site for awhile working on my first collection of poetry.  I'd like to share the book information with you:

Main Street Rag Publishing Company has decided to publish my book (Naked).  It’s due to be released in May and will sell for $12, but you can get it now for $6.50 by placing an advance discount order at the MSR Online Bookstore.

Here’s a link directly to my author’s page:

http://mainstreetragbookstore.com/product/naked-cindy-stevens/

The MSR Online Bookstore:  http://mainstreetragbookstore.com/

If you don’t like buying online, Main Street Rag will take checks, but the price is a flat rate of $10.50/book regardless of quantity which includes shipping and sales tax.

Please remember, though, this is for advance orders.  It doesn’t mean the book will be shipped early, only that you are receiving a discount for ordering before it goes to press, but the price will only last until 20 March.

Thank you,

Cindy

Cindy B. Stevens
cindy.stevens.poet@gmail.com
cbstevens55@gmail.com
https://www.facebook.com/Cindy-B-Stevens-poet-177575236364058/