Thursday, October 19, 2017


Mischievious Fox
Spotted a box
Which stirred his curious mind
A quaint parcel
Doused in sparkles
With string and ribbons twined
A flash of red,
A hurried tread,
He checked what t'was in kind
Nosy old Fox
Opened the box;
Greed made him almost blind
Soon, he had dreams
Could feel, it seems,
Gold, jewels for him designed
For a present,
Surely he was to find
But in the box
Poor silly Fox
Lay nothing of the kind
A jack sprung out
Scaring, no doubt,
Fox right out of his mind
Along the glen
Back to his den
Leaving his pride behind
(Such wretched box!)
A frightened Fox
Would now avoid mankind.
This all started a few weeks ago, when I threw a few words on the screen. Fox, Box.... Maybe because, during one of my walks, I saw a flash of red, the tip of a white bushy tail?
But it didn't match any prompts, and I had plenty of material to work on the other ones.
And then, today, as if on purpose, OctPoWriMo's prompt was "Fox or Foxy"
So I played a little bit. I had fun (a nice change from all these heavy poems from the last few days!). I hope you enjoy reading it too!

Wednesday, October 18, 2017


T'was a regular family dinner

My least favourite uncle was there

The long meal was almost over

Time for coffee cups and dessertware


The discussion soon had turned

To politics and adult things

With voices now sounding concerned

About what the future may bring


I'd always been old for my years

And enjoyed deep conversation

So I stayed there, opened my ears

Taking part in the discussion


I don't remember the subject

But this time, I uttered through tears

"All those who suicide elect,

I think I understand their fears."


These were strong words for a young mouth,

But nobody seemed to hear them

The arguments went back and forth

And I, alone, was feeling numb.


They simply kept on talking

As if I hadn't been there

Nobody had been listening

To my overwhelming despair.


I am not sure what happened then

I think I got up in a haze;

I never voiced that fear again

For no one cared for my malaise


Today's OctPoWriMo's prompt was "Everyone went on eating". Well, for me, the meal was almost over, but this is the incident that came to mind.

I know that if a teen of mine were to utter these words, I would certainly pick up on it and ask them about it in a private setting. I wouldn't just let it go and dismiss it as non-sense, or unimportant.

I guess I'm healing from that wound, as writing it didn't make me cry, but the tears are pooling just there, on the rim of my eyelids, like they did back then.

Tuesday, October 17, 2017

Hooray, Hooray!

Two days ago to m' Love I said
"When do you come and visit me?
I'd love to have you in my bed,
Even more if you'd sleep with me."
He's coming to see me, you hear?
Hooray, hooray
And he'll even sleep the night here
Hooray, hooray!
His reply came quick as an arrow
"I am not free tonight, he said,
But I can come by tomorrow
And I'll spend the night in your bed"
He's coming to see me, you hear?
Hooray, hooray
And he'll even sleep the night here
Hooray, hooray!
He even added right away
"Or the night after, you decide
I'm free for you on either day
By your preference I shall abide."
He's coming to see me, you hear?
Hooray, hooray
And he'll even sleep the night here
Hooray, hooray!
So let me go and get ready
My Love to welcome in my bed
The news he's staying makes me heady
I'm so glad for my desre I pled!
He's coming to see me, you hear?
Hooray, hooray
And he'll even sleep the night here
Hooray, hooray!
Ok, I'm sort of getting late to go fetch him, so please forgive me for the quick postface. 
Otherwise, OctPoWriMo day 17 was just not going to happen today!

Monday, October 16, 2017

Telling my story

 OctPoWiMo's prompt for day 16 (yes' we've been through half of it already!) was "Losing your fears and tears".
It seems they are intent on getting me exhausted with finding my way, these poets who write the prompts! Every day almost, I feel like it needs me digging, hard, into those painul spots in my heart, in my soul.
Hopefully, this all helps me loosen those dark threads and find my voice :)

Today's prompt reminded me of this quote 

Telling my story
(Or is it stories?)
Is like living them
All over again
The hung up feelings
The raw emotions
Come to the surface
Demand to be faced
It's a hard deed, though,
Looking at sorrow
And what brought it up
Inner soul clean-up
This is the role of tears
Washing away our fears
Tearing memories apart
That are stuck in our hearts
At first, the words hurt
They come out in blurts
Mixed with sobs and sighs
Wailing and loud cries
Then, slowly at times,
We unravel lines
Of thoughts, false beliefs,
Hoping to find relief
When skies get clearer
Darkened threads looser,
Oftentimes we find
The words that unbind
All of a sudden
We gain our freedom
From weighty silence,
Stand in defiance
Of our deepest fears
Washed away by our tears.
Having found our words
Our voice can be heard
And after much time
We break through the slime
That kept us bound,
Stuck to the ground;
We can fly
Reach the sky;
We are free

Sunday, October 15, 2017

OctPoWriMo day 15 Liquids

The first thing that came to mind when I read today's prompt was this poem, written in April.

Then I was reminded of my late night excursion with my Lover and wrote a very different poem, one indeed based on a POSITIVE trigger.

But I don't think it is suitable for publication on Morgan's website, so if you want to read it, you'll have to ask me via email at dawnsnights @ gmail . com (just remove the spaces).

Otherwise, enjoy this poem. Well, not sure enjoying is the proper word. It's a bit gross!

Tip... top... tip... top...
I watched as the drops formed on the overhead shower
Round at first
Then taking this telltale elongated shape 
I love the peaceful sound of water droplets
As they softly hit the ground.
I'd felt a gush of warm liquid 
Running down my leg. 
I wasn't expecting it,
But I had no time to worry about it. 
And it wasn't that unpleasant,
Some people even enjoy the experience:
Golden showers are a kink for some,
A mixture of submission and trust
Even of humiliation perhaps?
The reason I couldn't worry about it?
I was too focused on not splashing
The liquid coming out of my mouth in big spurts
Ejecting the little broth and vermicelli 
I'd just tried to eat. 
That and the medications I had just taken
(With food, it said on the box).
Everytime my stomach contracted,
More pee would pool under my knee
It happens to us older women, 
When we've had too many children, 
And we cough or laugh too hard. 
Or vomit, apparently. 
The liquid coming back up had an acidic taste
That burnt my ailing throat. 
Just what I needed. 
The taste of it made my stomach clench
And caused new eruptions
Until finally,
Stomach empty, 
I could get up. 
Now I'm sure you understand better
Just how peaceful it felt
To watch those perfect water droplets
Form on the overhead shower. 
And how blissful it was
Feeling more warm liquid running along my legs
But cleansing my skin this time
Not just my insides.

Saturday, October 14, 2017

Autumn day

Little spark of red
Dancing by my feet
Running with the wind
Dainty glint of green
Snaking by my feet
Floating on the sea
Brazen flash of gold
Striking by my feet
Whispering through the leaves
Today's OctPoWriMo's prompt was movement. For an instant, I thought about talking about how I managed to stand up, or how many times I moved places, countries.
But I was tired of all the darkness, I needed something light today. My onspiration came when I saw a little aspen leaf (I know, they're yellow, but it didn't fit the number of syllables that worked for the rest of the poem!) blown by the wind on the road.
I'm not sure what I wrote describes the image I saw really well (there's no mention of the contrast between the bright yellow and the grey of the road), but I tried to focus on movement and I followed the words.

Friday, October 13, 2017

Someone like you

Waking up already tired,
Just thinking of your life is painful;
Getting up requires strength
You feel you have never had,
So shutting your eyes suddenly seems
Like the most attractive choice.
The simple act of
A fight,
Closed throat,
Pounding heart,
Chest tight
And from your life you see no respite
(Why should one even need respite
From their own life,
Is a question you often ponder).
You can't get out of your head
Caught in the maelstrom of your thoughts.
You're so tired you just lay there
Yet sleeping is not an option:
The whirlpool drags you ever deeper
Into comatose asphyxiation.
The voices in your head
Contradict themselves constantly
So you don't know which to believe.
One lashes at you,
Trashes you,
The scorn, palpable,
Makes you feel less than dirt
"Look at yourself, slob, you're disgusting!
You're always running late, you're fat and ugly,
There's not a thing you can do properly
You're a sad excuse for the human race."
The other one tries to build you up,
A gentle voice,
Telling you "You're doing great,
You're a good person
With your heart on your sleeve;
Your clients love you,
Come back year after year,
Word of mouth is all the publicity you need
Because your reputation is outstanding."
But that positive voice,
So gentle and fragile
Is drowned out by the vociferous one
Screaming repeatedly its scorn.
So you can't just think,
Like a normal person,
But have to question every single idea
That germinates into your mind,
Checking it's really you speaking
Not some cunning Medea.
Preparing food seems like
Such an insurmountable feat
Your body's hungry
But your mind doesn't want to know
Yet, moments later,
As you finally eat
From that meal
Distractedly prepared, with disgust,
Nothing is left in front of you
Not a single crust;
You ate more than your body needed
And right away regret it.
But you won't allow yourself to slide into
What you consider the next taboo.
If you ate too much, too bad for you:
You'll carry the weight of that decision
Shaming yourself publicly
With the extra pounds you've been taught to despise.

Stimulations are overwhelming:
You're scared by the sound of a drop
Falling from your shower,
A flashing light sends you into a fit,
A smell you can't stand;
You hear sounds that don't exist,
A constant humming in your ears;
Images are so vivid,
Even with your eyes closed;
The taste of your blood
Stays in your mouth
After you bit your tongue.
You feel helpless
But, somehow,
Know you need help;
You need support
But do you deserve it?
What if you bothered anyone...
Vivid pictures
Dance in your mind:
Dangling from a rope
Or lying on train tracks,
You finally rid the world
Of one more burden.
And these images bring
And calm.

But you're too scared
Or too coward
To go ahead with it;
That's what you'd been thinking
All those sleepless nights:
Even in death, you can't succeed!
You're a failure through and through
Why would the world need
Someone like you?
I started writing this poem in the morning. At a time I was just recovering from my last panic attack. Reading the prompt again tonight, I realise that I didn't explore at all the "How is madness linked to creativity". I just read "Write about mental illness".
So I did. My life has been crazy lately, dealing with... mental illness(!), so I didn't pay too much attention to form or rhyme. Let's say it's free-verse, I'll feel less inadequate ;)

Thursday, October 12, 2017


Reading the news this morning
I was brought back to thinking
About when your dad pushed me,
Or I had a D&C.
It was still hard to accept
That it was more than neglect
Leading him to do these things;
The voice inside still saying,
"Don't exaggerate, Mommy
You react like a banshee;
He didn't mean to hurt you
You're behaving like a fool."
Why's it always easier
To argue as an observer
Than as myself to do it
(those times I simply lose my wit)?
Finally, I found my voice:
"The one who made the wrong choice
Was not me, t'was your father.
What would you  call a mother
Who drops her child from a high-rise,
Yet when he's hurt, averts her eyes?"
"Didn't mean to harm you, Son,
Your claim is clearly overdone!
How could I have ever known?
Always thought you would have flown."
Bottom line in all this is
We need support for challenges.
It's all quite simple really
If you love them, think safety:
Can you help them if they flail?
Make sure they're not set to fail.
If you push and can't help them
You're the one with mental problems.
Completely off prompt. Today's was an interesting prompt, but I've been way too busy. I'll try to write about it soon, but for now, I dumped some words, some recognition about me and my life. 
It all came about because I was reading about how many more women die at the hand of their male partner than the other way round (and most women who do kill a partner is because he was attacking them). For those who want numbers, it's about 10 times more.
It led me to reading articles about abuse, which led me to think about my own experience. And finally, the explanation as to why what he did was physical violence, not just an accident, came to me, while I heard my child's voice in my head, and I tried to explain to them why it was violence and not an accident.

Wednesday, October 11, 2017


Tonight I ache
For a teenager,
Almost a child still
Lost in the dark recesses of the soul
Certain that life is worthless,
Theirs especially;
Convinced that they're a burden
On everyone around them
"Please don't tell my parents,
I don't want them to worry!"
I ache for that child,
Who feels the world crumbling
From under their feet;
For whom, suddenly,
Life is complicated
When, a mere few years ago,
It used to be so simple
And carefree.
I ache for that child
Feeling inadequate,
Not smart enough,
Not good enough,
Not beautiful enough,
Who hates so much of themselves
That they take it out on their body
With a slash here
With no food there
Sleep is overrated, really!
I ache even more,
Because that child,
Lost in the dark recesses of the soul,
Was me.
I went completely off prompt (at least for now, we'll see how I feel after a few hours more sleep), even though I love dancing. 

Yesterday, I tried to support my teen on the way to supporting a friend who is struggling, has been sruggling, with mental illness over the past year or so, but has suddenly taken a turn for the worse.

Tonight was the night they (child, family, doctors) decided for a hospitalisation. I am very proud of my own teen, who acted as a best friend and active support system, without judgement, but knowing when to ask for help when it got too complicated for a young soul to handle alone.

I am very proud of my child for the way they handled the problem, for being there for a friend in need. I know the ex will probably not feel the same way, and I'm not sure he'll ever know what really happened, but... I'm glad my child is open enough to feel safe around me, know that I would always support a struggling child (Mom, can my friend sleep at ours tonight? It's that or the street...).

It's been a complicated day. I'm pretty sure if I were to write a book of all the things that happened in my life over the past year or so, nobody would believe it's not over-exaggerated fiction!

These are the words that needed to come out last night; because I remember, as a teen, the day I first felt why people would commit suicide. I voiced it out loud, and no adult around me even registered what I'd said!

Dance with Your Muse

Moving your body is the best way to get your words moving so dance with your muse, get inspired, and play with your words!

Dance with Your Muse
Image courtesy of PublicDomainPictures

move your body
shake out
shake up
shake in
move your words

dance with your muse
feel the inspiration

dancing with your muse
movements light as air

feel the words
just to the left
to center

words trickling down
onto the page

Head on over to OctPoWriMo for Poetry Prompts, visit the other participants, and share word love along the way.

I'm going to the Southeast Wise Woman Herbal Conference and I won't be around from Thursday through Sunday. I'll catch up with you on Monday, to see what everyone has been writing the rest of this week. Have fun playing with your words!

Morgan Dragonwillow, author of Wild Woman Waking & Dancing within Shadow, is a Bodywork transformer, dancing poet, motivator of words, magical instigator and creatrix of #OctPoWriMo & #PoetsonthePage. If you are interested in collaborating with your soul to get your words on the page, check out, Wild Woman Writing Retreat.
Yes, she is on Google+ too!

Tuesday, October 10, 2017


Over infant me
Power to scare,
Power to tame
With screams and cries
And slaps that chastise
Making me the perfect
Obedient child, fucked
Up enough that I fell under the
To demean, to despise
With seething rage and lies
Day after day
Chipping away
At my self-confidence
I didn't stand a chance
Of getting out of it unscathed
You made me feel crazed
By twisting my life,
Making me out to be a bad wife
But little by little
I got rid of the shackles
That bound me to you.
Looking at others, my confidence grew
That life didn't have to be that way
That it could be joyful and gay
If only one was treated with love
Instead of being constantly shoved
To the ground
Relentlessly downed.
I realised I could stand
I started to understand
The games you'd been playing,
My will again and again slaying,
Trying to smother me, my mind to exhaust
Until my self I nearly lost.
Away from your influence,
Once again, I learnt to dance
To my own beat
I regained strength, saw life was sweet
And having been abused many years
And shed rivers of tears
I finally learnt to love again
Myself, others, and to regain
My own
Today's prompt was Power, over, but also with and within.
I really would have loved to create a palindrome, but again, that's not where words led me, and I don't have much time to spend today (been on the phone, trying to deal with a suicidal teen (not mine) and their mother... yes, that took precedence over my poem).
Hope you enjoy it nonetheless.

Monday, October 9, 2017


Wooden smell
Warms my hands
Memories of my childhood
Stinking, smothering
Stings my eyes
Memories of my ex
Burning inferno
Habitats being destroyed
Firemen to the rescue
Smoldering heat
Surrounds my heart
Lost in your eyes
I kept checking my email and never received today's prompt (almost a third of the way through!) for OctPoWriMo. 
Then I went on the site and saw a prompt for Smoke, with a possible palyndrome form. 
I won't have time to try my hand at a palyndrome. But here are 4 elevenies about various notions, both pleasant and less so, that came to mind about smoke.

Sunday, October 8, 2017

Sleep needed

The full moon's light
Is shining through the blind
A wriggly body
Is sleeping next to me
I close my eyes
Let out a sigh
As I think of my Lover
Far away from me.
The clock is
The seconds;
Sleep will seize me
Carry me off to the land of dreams,
Any minute now...
The moonlight's disappeared
Fat raindrops are
Their pace accelerating
Until they hammer
A soft melody.
I want to sleep.
The dishwasher is
The cat is...
To go
And somehow, I,
The only soul still awake in the house
Who wants to sleep
Who NEEDS to sleep
Have to get up,
Lest he wakes up everyone else.
And still
The clock
The rain
The machine
Sounds that my hyper alert brain
Cannot ignore
I'm tired now.
Please, brain,
Pretty please,
Let me sleep!
This was written in the middle of the night, during one of my numerous sleepless nights. Not on prompt, neither in theme nor form. But at least, it helped me, I went to sleep right after having hit publish...


Spilled on page
Raw, hard and hurting
Unconscious beliefs challenged
Take form, become obvious
Thoughts materialise
Relief comes
Today's OctPoWriMo's prompt was to write about "how could I know" and use Joseph's star as a form. 
It's the main reason I write, to crystallise my thoughts. 
This is what came out today.

Power Surges and Becoming a Crone

How could I know
the second half of life
would feel so strange


a hormone raging
hair raising
back talking

but wiser
I hope


Photo courtesy of PublicDomainPictures
chaotic feelings swirling
power surges

nights of writing as sleep evades
days of contemplation as
my soul breathes into my ear

how could I know

what used to matter
wouldn't matter anymore
and what matters is so


days of creating
splashes of color
swirls and spirals
weaving into the crevices


feeling my way into
the crone

staying open to
what may come
knowing that more of my life

most likely

is behind me

I'm good with that.

Head on over to OctPoWriMo for Poetry Prompts, visit the other participants, and share word love along the way.

Morgan Dragonwillow, author of Wild Woman Waking & Dancing within Shadow, is a Bodywork transformer, dancing poet, motivator of words, magical instigator and creatrix of #OctPoWriMo & #PoetsonthePage. If you are interested in collaborating with your soul to get your words on the page, check out my website, Wild Woman Mysteries.
Yes, she is on Google+ too!

Saturday, October 7, 2017

Heart level Listening

I had a difficult time with this one.  Every word that hit the page sounded, preachy. Sometimes all you can do is let the words fall where they may. And sometimes you pull something from the past because it is fitting for how your feeling.

Photo courtesy of PublicDomainPictures

Listening - An Acrostic

Leaning in to hear every word.

I feel my heart opening as the words sink in.

So many feelings rushing through my body.

Transforming me at a molecular level.

Every word mingled with my breath.

Nestled together, words move between us.

Intellect & emotions, stimulating senses.

Now the conversation is coming to a close.

Gingerly folding words into our hearts.

Head on over to OctPoWriMo for poetry prompts, visit the participants, and share word love along the way.

Morgan Dragonwillow, author of Wild Woman Waking & Dancing within Shadow, is a Bodywork transformer, dancing poet, motivator of words, magical instigator and creatrix of #OctPoWriMo & #PoetsonthePage. If you are interested in collaborating with your soul to get your words on the page, check out my website, Wild Woman Mysteries.
Yes, she is on Google+ too!

The day you went too far

There was the day you went too far,
When you pushed me, playfully,
While I was rollerblading,
Asking if I knew how to stop
When going backwards.
A car was oncoming
I tried
I failed
I fell.
My bone went "crack"
Pain seared through me
My arm looked like a staircase;
"Maybe it's not broken", you said.
That day, you went too far.
But I believed it was an accident
It didn't cross my mind
That even PUSHING a loved one
Wasn't normal.
So I made excuses for you.
There was the day you went too far
When highly depressed-me was interned
For fear of hurting
Our children;
A friend looked after them.
But, coming back from work ,
"Must you go TODAY?" you asked
"It's really not very convenient!"
A few days later, once more,
"I cannot visit you again" you said
"The atmosphere is too depressing"
You didn't bother to learn
How best to support me
However, you were sure
You knew best
What I certainly SHOULDN'T do
You were scared
Of what?
I wonder...
That I should find myself,
And decided to leave?
That day you went too far
But I was too sick,
Too weak
To see
That's not what a supportive relashionship
Should be.
So I brushed it off.
There was the day you went too far
When pregnant-me felt so tired
From taking care of two toddlers
That I wanted nothing more than rest
On that hot and humid Sunday;
"You've got to stay fit,
Pregnancy is not an illness" you said
And, knowing you already despised
The 10 extra pounds
Gained over the years,
I tried
I walked
Bent over in the heat
Stopping often to lean on a post
Or a drinking fountain.
I felt like a ninety year old granny;
People made fun of me
For walking so slowly.
You didn't say anything.
Later that week,
I felt ill
I called my doctor
They did some tests.
The baby's heart had stopped beating.
I was devastated,
Sitting alone in that doctor's waiting room
Knowing what he was about to say.
That day you went too far,
Pushing me to exercise
To the point where it endangered
Our baby's life.
But I believed you had
My best interest in mind.
I didn't understand
What support was.
So I stayed.
There was the day you went too far
Demanding three star meals
When I was juggling
Life with an infant
For our older children too
"It's not reason enough
To let the house go" you said
"That's the only job you have.
I go to work too"
So I tried,
Day after day
To satisfy
Your desires
That time, you went too far
But I didn't see
How abnormal it is
For a husband and father
To behave like this
I simply tried harder.
There was the day you went too far
An insignificant phrase
"Since you don't work,
Can't you be the one looking for ideas,
For dates?"
You didn't seem to mean
Any ill by it
But it told me that,
No matter what you'd promised,
You were never going to change.
It would always be me,
My job,
My responsibility
To keep the marriage going.
Even when I'd already told you
I couldn't continue
Like this.
That I needed you
To take an interest in me
To work on our marriage.
That day you went too far.
You probably didn't realise
(You'd already done so much worse!)
But to me,
That was the last chance
You were ever going to get.
That day you went too far
And a week later
I told you I wanted a divorce.
For the second time
But this time?
I meant it.
There were more days you went too far
The day you said
"Why sleep in different beds?
The fact we're divorcing
Doesn't mean
We shouldn't have sex any more";
The day you threatened me
"If you don't agree,
I'll tell everyone
What a dirty bitch you are"
The day you yelled through the house
"It'll feel good
Once she's finally
Out of here"
In front of our children
And since I left,
There have been many more days
You went too far.
And now,
With each of these days,
I stumble as I get hit,
But only so I can stand taller
Once I recover.
Today's prompt from OctPoWriMo was "And then I went too far".
I took the opposite view. I know it's not really a poem. It's more of a stream of conscousness thing. But that's what needed out, so that's what it'll be.
One day, maybe, I'll change it. For now... this it what you get.

Friday, October 6, 2017


This morning, it seems
I'm caught in a dream.

I am fearless
I am weightless;
I jump up high
I reach the sky
But don't come down:
I float around

From atop observing
Unafraid of falling
Utterly confident
Secure, omniscient,
I am fully aware;
I can dance through the air
I can hear, feel and taste
As Wind touches my face;
I yield to her caress
Providing full access;
She seeps through, a solvant
Extirpating moments,
Memories from my life:
From close up, it was rife
With sadness and hardship;
From afar, all the clips
Blend to form a jumble
Where joys and miracles,
In most vibrant colours,
Drown out the dulled ambers,
Darkened woods and sad greys;
High above my life's daze,
I gain new perception
A fresh insight, a lesson

I feel good;
I am strong;
I am free

This morning, I woke up to a dream. I was in my children's gym, there were huge trampolines. I went on them (as if I was actually fit enough!) and... the rest is in the poem.
I didn't follow OctPoWriMo Day 6's prompt. It took me all day to write this, find words I liked. I'm not sure how well it works, but I'm glad I got to express it in some way.

The Music Began to Stir My Soul - #OctPoWriMo

Not every poem has to be a masterpiece. Short poems, long poems, poems in form or in free form, what really matters is getting your words on the page. I hope you are enjoying OctPoWriMo and playing with your words.

Photo courtesy of PublicDomainPictures

While I was pacing the floor

a car raced down the street

a leaf fell to the ground

a book was being published

a secret was being told

a mother had tears of joy

a plane landed safely

While I was pacing the floor

I realized I needed to dance

I cranked James Asher's, Send in the Drums

I closed my eyes and let my body move

I shook the energy up and out

the music began to stir my soul

I smiled with delight

and I danced until the words began to flow


Lots of fun events/workshops/retreats happening over at my main website/blog. If you are interested in writing workshops and retreats, check out, Wild Woman Writing Retreat.

Wild Woman Mysteries
Morgan Dragonwillow
Bodywork transformer, dancing poet, motivator of words, & magical instigator Creatrix of #OctPoWriMo & #PoetsonthePage

Thursday, October 5, 2017

What makes a father?

Loving, Caring
Strict yet supportive
Teaches you about life
Selfish, Unforgiving
Stingy, callous, narcissist
Scolding without any compasion
Today, I didn't follow OctPoWriMo's Day 5 prompt at all. Or maybe I did, in so far that I now better understand what I lived through as a child.

I am struggling with understanding the father of my children's ways. Struggling real hard. 

Instead of teaching his children from a place of love, he scolds from a place of "You should have paid more atention". Instead of giving them the benefit of the doubt and trying to find out how to best help them overcome their struggles, he puts their nose in it and makes them lick it up. It reminds me too much of how I was raised. 

It is hard to find the best way to help my children grow their own wings and soar.

Simple Life - OctPoWriMo

“There is nothing more beautiful than living a simple life in this complex universe!” ― Mehmet Murat ildan

The OctPoWriMo prompt is: Finally I understand... 
Photo courtesy of PublicDomainPictures 

finally I understand 

 understand what life is all about 

 about simple things that matter most 

 most  days  I  can  keep  my   spirits   up 

 up in  the  clouds  mingling  with my muse 

muse inspires words and creations to  flow 

flow  of   energy   keeps   life   smooth 

 smooth as apples on an autumn day 

 day of writing, my kind of bliss 

 bliss  dancing  with my  soul 

 soul whispers of life's purpose 

 purpose  to  share  and  inspire  joy 

joy   of   creativity,   nature,   and  love 

love is the answer to every single question 

question everything, even what you believe  

 believe  and  be  open  to  all  possibilities 

 possibilities grow in a fertile environment 

 environment of laughter and sunshine 

 sunshine leads to expanded views 

views of the ocean calms my mind 

 mind of chatter falls away and down 

 down into the earth for flowers to grow

Read, Dance, Write, Repeat
Morgan Dragonwillow
Bodywork transformer, dancing poet, motivator of words, & magical instigator Creatrix of #OctPoWriMo & #PoetsonthePage

Wednesday, October 4, 2017

Can I sleep here tonight?

It seems I had forgotten to publish this yesterday...


Can I sleep here tonight?
My mind went blank with incredulity
My heart went a-thumping with glee
Your scent filling the room, your warmth against my body
Your mere presence in my bed, so close to me
Every time I opened an eye, I couldn't help be feel oh, so lucky.

I didn't quite go with OctPoWriMo's Day 3 prompt. It had to do with tasting metal, and it wasn't what I needed to write about this early morning. 

However, I tried to use the Cherita form. 1 line stanza/2 lines stanza/3 lines stanza. And it needs to tell a story. 

I had a story to tell, even if I'm not sure I told it well enough.  I enjoyed having this story to tell. 😊

Pop Goes the...

I saw a pheasant take off the other day

Flight heavy, yet graceful in its own way

I thought to myself

"What a sight to witness!"

Then I remembered, hunting season is underway...


This is not at all the poem I had started to write for OctPoWriMo day 4, but I saw a friend post a picture of a vibrant cardinal that visited her house, which reminded me of the pheasant. 

I may need to explain that, where I live, hunters actually buy pheasant chicks to feed, raise, then release just before hunting season starts. That way, they are sure to have prey to shoot at. 

I mean, these poor birds never got to try their wings, don't know how to find food, so stick to cultures and close to houses, and/or are too weak to fly for a very long time. 

And they call it hunting. 😔

Between Clouds and the Water

between clouds and the water

I can hear the clouds
they sizzle with electricity
they float but drag down
too much for them to see

Photo courtesy of Publicdomainpictures

between clouds and the water

a man hitting his wife
a lie to be spoken
a child left behind
it's bigger than the ocean

between clouds and the water

all the crying children
hearts are broken
the water spilling down
ready to fill the ocean

between clouds and the water

tears ready to fall
to crack a soul open
water running down
they're filling the ocean

Read, Dance, Write, Repeat
Morgan Dragonwillow
Bodywork transformer, dancing poet, motivator of words, & magical instigator Creatrix of #OctPoWriMo & #PoetsonthePage

Tuesday, October 3, 2017

As You Bite Your Tongue - #OctPoWriMo

Image by MDragonwillow 
#OctPoWriMo Day 3 prompt - Taste of Metal. Are the words flowing for you? Is poetry moving through your body?

Taste of metal
red hot
burning fire
air restricted
until you gasp from the heat and know you only have a moment to decide

taste of metal
in your mouth
as you bite your tongue
stopping the words
stopping the flow

you open your mouth
you must speak
you must tell the truth
your truth
it grabs at you
pulling you
the words refuse to give up
they tear at your tongue
pulling you to open your mouth

taste of metal
eating away at you

slamming the door and walking away
opening your mouth to the sky to scream
laughter flows out
people look
but you don't care
you're free
tears run down your cheeks

taste of metal
floats away on the cloads
freedom never tasted
so sweet

Read, Dance, Write, Repeat
Morgan Dragonwillow
Bodywork transformer, dancing poet, motivator of words, & magical instigator Creatrix of #OctPoWriMo & #PoetsonthePage

Monday, October 2, 2017

We write because we must

We write because we must
Because if we don't, our minds will rust;
We write to tell our stories,
We write to heal our bodies,
Because all those hurts that weigh on us
Lead to aches and flesh-eating pus;
We write to free our soul
To make it fly, to keep it whole;
We write of sorrow, we write of death,
We write of survival, of catching our breath,
We write of life, we write of nature,
We write of the beauty from our Creator,
We write to think, we write to sing,
We write a heritage to our offspring.
We write because we must
Because if we don't, we will turn to dust.
I had some time to kill... or rather, some words that still needed out. I knew when I read OctPoWriMo's Day 2 prompt this morning that, even though the poem written to my muse yesterday could fit the prompt, there was much more I needed to say about this. 

My Muse Supercharges Me

As I'm writing during September, leading up to October, my muse supercharges me until everything becomes a poem.

Photo by MDragonwillow

The aches and pains are more bearable, the slow car in front of me becomes the essence of my next poem, taking my time, remembering to breathe as the words flow from my fingers.

The prompt at OctPoWriMo. today is: We write because we must...

My lungs can't expand enough without words.

I need to say yes to that next adventure because good things are coming and all of it is fodder for the page, for my words, for the words floating in the clouds

the page

to crawl under my skin

until I can't stop

the itch won't let me
the itch begs me to begin

so I sit

my fingers rest on the keys and they begin to move
slowly at first
and then faster
and faster
until I am breathing deeply
air filling my lungs again

smile on my face
joy back in my life
as the words
dance on the page

Sunday, October 1, 2017


Family you choose for yourself,

Ready to help at the drop of a hat;

Incredibly happy for your successes;

Enjoying time in their company

Never fails to cheer you;

Differences don't matter:

Strong supporters through struggles and joys

This was started a while ago, after a dear friend was there for me, once more.
 I felt that I needed to write an ode to Friendship.
I posted it early this morning my time, and it turns out... it does fit the prompt for day 1 of OctoPoWriMo, as it is friends that encouraged me to start/keep writing poetry.

How Did I Get Here - OctPoWriMo Day 1

“It's funny. No matter how hard you try, you can't close your heart forever. And the minute you open it up, you never know what's going to come in. But when it does, you just have to go for it! Because if you don't, there's not point in being here.”
― Kirstie Alley

OctPoWriMo begins today! We are partying on Facebook and probably in small to medium parties all over the world (my hope anyway).

The prompt is, How Did I Get Here.

the blood begins to pulse
pulse into a fever of dancing droplets
droplets of desire causing visions
visions of sunset beaches and twilight kisses
kisses that you dream will explode into your belly
belly blazing like an eternal fire 
fire flickering and shooting up into the sky
sky swirling and roiling with darkened clouds
clouds magically changing shapes and colors
colors dividing and flying apart into pieces
pieces of your soul flicker into eternity
eternity of words moving and twisting the pages
pages fluttering with tattered edges
edges rounded and sharp bringing you back
back to the words you began with

Wednesday, September 6, 2017

Creativity Overdrive

This image expresses the energy that I'm feeling.
Image by MDragonwillow

Do you ever have those times when you can hardly sleep because the muse is by your side constantly, inspiring you to create and you can't do anything but create. Yeah, that's what I'm going through right now. It's like I was dormant for so long that the flood gates have opened up. The universe is afraid that if I don't get it all down, I might go back to sleep again.

Created by MDragonwillow in FB.

creativity is buzzing
lighting me on fire
dancing in my blood
muses do inspire

And I had an epiphany last night.

When you suddenly realize it just doesn't matter and you write whatever the hell you want to write.

Row80 Update:

I'm here again, hopefully I will stay on track this time and will be back again after this session ends and the next one begins.

Writing 750 words a day or three pages in my journal for Journaling as a Spiritual Process. -Definitely writing more than 750 words a day.
Writing at least a poem a day. - Yep, on track
Writing at least 500 a day on, A Poet's Life. - Not yet, this may have to wait until next session but I will fit in some brainstorming for this to see where it wants to go.
Writing the daily countdown posts and coordinating the volunteers for, OctPoWriMo: 31 Poems in 31 Days posts. - On track here.
I'm back at StoryDam, writing posts and helping with the Thursday night chats. I posted, Book Review - Mapping Your Hero's Journey with Tarot and I'm working on the author's interview post.

What are you working on?

Visit the other Rowers and share word love along the way.

I hope the rest of your week is filled with creativity.

Morgan Dragonwillow, author of Wild Woman Waking & Dancing within Shadow, is a Bodywork transformer, dancing poet, motivator of words, magical instigator and creatrix of #OctPoWriMo and #PoetsonthePage. You can find out more about her and how she can help you "move your body and move your words" on her blog.
Yes, she is on Google+ too!

Tuesday, September 5, 2017

Finding and Staying Me

One of the things I've been working on this past year and a half, is finding and staying me. When I'm in a relationship with someone I tend to change, to become something not wholly me. Mostly I think it's to keep the peace, although my last ex would probably disagree with that. But I think it is also reflecting the other person back at them as they are reflecting me back at me. I'm tired and I hope that made sense.

This is a poem that I created because of my feelings around that.

Photo by MDragonwillow

Sometimes I wonder if that is even possible but I'm doing my best to find the authentic me before getting near someone else, romantically speaking. Its been a year and six months, longer than I've ever gone without dating, longer than I've ever gone without being in a romantic relationship. Long over due I'm sure. Maybe if I'd taken the time when I was younger... ah well, no looking back, only forward.

What is the longest you went between relationships? Were you able to find your center and keep it for your next relationship or the one you're in? Any words of wisdom?

If you like writing poetry or would like to explore writing poetry, check out OctPoWriMo.

Morgan Dragonwillow, author of Wild Woman Waking & Dancing within Shadow, is a Bodywork transformer, dancing poet, motivator of words, magical instigator and creatrix of #OctPoWriMo and #PoetsonthePage. You can find out more about her and how she can help you "move your body and move your words" on her blog.
Yes, she is on Google+ too!

Friday, September 1, 2017

A Poet's Life

This has been a difficult year (more like a year and a half) for me, as I'm sure it has been for others as well. I allowed myself to fall into the pit of depression and despair but I've worked my way out. I've been attending women's energy circles, meditating, giving myself Reiki, Karuna ki and Innerspeak sessions, reading, using tarot and oracle cards, journaling, and more to get myself out of this funk.

Finally I am making myself get out there, doing massage therapy again, chatting with friends, making new friends, taking workshops and planning to facilitate workshops. Oh, and taking care of my new fish aquarium with platies, black mystery snails, and ghost shrimp, and taking care of our two new hermit crabs.

I can finally breathe again. I am writing again, the words have been flowing to the page. Poetry has come back into my life.

I have taken to the habit of keeping my poetry magnets next to my laptop as there tends to be a lag going from page to page. If I play with my magnets it gives me two benefits, one being of course creating poetry. The other, it helps keep me relaxed instead of frustrated. That's how I created the poem above, though I used the magnetic words to inspire this piece instead of it being all magnets.

Below is a short poem I actually created with the magnets.

Life ebbs and flows and thank goodness it is flowing again.

Check out the OctPoWriMo Countdown!

Row80 Check in:

I'm writing 750 words a day or three pages in my journal for Journaling as a Spiritual Process.
Writing at least a poem a day.
Writing at least 500 a day on, A Poet's Life. Yes, it has the same title as this post. It seems it wants to be a whole lot more than a post. We'll see what becomes of it.
It is also that time of year again when I'm prepping for OctPoWriMo: 31 Poems in 31 Days. I'm writing the daily countdown posts and I'm coordinating the volunteers for October's posts.

Yeah, it kind of sounds like a lot but I'm doing my best to stay organized.

Row80 is a Round of Words in 80 Days, hop on over and visit the other participants and share word love along the way.

Morgan Dragonwillow, author of Wild Woman Waking & Dancing within Shadow, is a Bodywork transformer, dancing poet, motivator of words, magical instigator and creatrix of #OctPoWriMo and #PoetsonthePage. You can find out more about her and how she can help you "move your body and move your words" on her blog.
Yes, she is on Google+ too!

Monday, February 13, 2017

Row80 Goals

Yes, it has been a long while. I have gone through a lot of changes and have found it difficult to write for the last year or so. I decided to come back to A Writer's Universe just to have a check in for Row80 and maybe a few ramblings here and there. I feel I need to have some writerly connection and accountability of sorts.

Photo by Morgan Dragonwillow

Writing Goals:

For now I just want to get back into writing daily for 30 minutes and that will probably be within As I write daily I will see what stories decide to show up on the page.

I'm very grateful that Row80 is still around. How is your writing coming along?



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