20 Lines A Day

A Community of Writers and Photographers

Author Archives: Melissa Hassard


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Sometimes it happens-

… so quietly that you don’t even realize it.  There was no alarm.  No bell.  Not even a ringing in your ears.  Nothing lets you know that the moment that just got by you was the one that you should have reached for and held onto.  That it won’t come back again, even if you beg.  That you are left in a permanent state of watching her walk away.

That’s okay, you tell yourself.  There will be another one.

You silently hope.  You wish it to be true.  You hope that life will be kind and you will keep on getting chances just like the one that kissed your cheek, then turned away.

The truth is, we never know, do we?

I am blessed by this community and by the gifts you share of yourself every day.  Coming here always makes me smile, and  I know I’m not the only one that feels that way.

Thank you, thank you, thank you.

Just took a peek at the stats, and while this is something I usually never do, it feels like a milestone and I thought I would share it with you.

Happy 50,000+ visitors to 20 Lines.  I thought I’d let you know.

 

Cheers, and happy everything,

Melissa


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With heavy heart

My dear friends and community,

This morning I am very sad to have to tell you that our dear friend and contributor weedlewom has left this life last week following a sudden illness and hospital stay.

Part of me didn’t want to believe it, I think, so I am a few days late with this news.

I was very lucky to know Susan in my own community here in North Carolina, as last August I’d joined her writers’ critique group that met once a month.  I will tell you that she was as gentle and magical a soul as you find her voice to be in her poetry.

I didn’t know her nearly well enough, but I hold each memory dear.  Rest in deepest peace, poet.

You can read the poems she shared with us here.

And take good care of each other out there, please.

With love,

Melissa


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April Poetry Challenge, Progress as of Day 5

Whew.  I’m going round and round with this poem, with its direction, with things I want to add and then later decide they don’t work.  Is this happening for anyone else?

This is where the poem opens after some refining:

After love, and you sleep.
I am formed to your back

broad and pale, the way lake
embraces the reflection of the moon.

 

… though I am not entirely happy with this.  I am trying to form the words and  to his back to meet the image head on, with (as Maggie will tell you) an economy of language, which is typically my style.  (In fact, Maggs, I have been trying to put more of myself into this poem and say more, rather than less, but we’ll see how that goes. — m.)

So if anyone thinks this reads oddly, please speak up, because my instincts are telling me that it reads like “broad and pale” are not precise enough when they move to the next line after a double break.  And while I will, at times, deliberately leave lines, images, moments in a poem open to interpretation, this opening image I want clear as a bell.

Thoughts/feedback/comments welcome.

And I hope you are enjoying spending the month with a poem as much as I am.

Cheers, and happy writing,

Melissa

 


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April Poetry Challenge — Day 1-5

Totally blown away and excited by all the interest in the April Poetry Challenge (courtesy of Richard Krawiec, please see the original post).  It’s time to check in.  If you are participating and a contributing member to 20 Lines, please post revisions as you see fit.

If you are part of our community of readers and participating in our challenge, please respond in the comments section of this post and let us know you’re checking in.

You may post your poem, a part of your poem, all of it or none, whatever you like.  We are glad you are joining us!

So make noise, share your progress, and let us know how it’s going!

As for me — I have started a poem and this is the first few lines:

After love, and you sleep
the full moon of your back
pale and strong under my hands

I will share some revisions publicly and the final version at the end of the month.   (It just occurred to me that it still might not be complete by then!  But I will promise to post the poem as it stands at that point nonetheless.)

Cheers, and happy writing,

Melissa


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Poetry Challenge for April

April is National Poetry Month

We’ve all heard of the a-poem-a-day challenges for April, or 30 Days, 30 Poems, but here is a unique challenge for the month of April to hone your skills as a writer and poet, introduced by Richard Krawiec, who himself is an enormously talented writer, poet, teacher and editor.  (Please read more about Richard here.)  I asked him if it would be alright to extend his challenge into our community.

Here’s the gist, in his words:

April is poetry month and there are all kinds of ‘write-a-poem-a-day’ contests.  I see the discipline of doing something like that, but I think the emphasis on producing a large number of poems is wrong – it shouldn’t be how many poems we write. One excellent poem is far more valuable than 30 decent poems.

So my challenge is this – for April start a poem on April 1 and revise it every day. 29 revisions of one poem.

Are  you in?  

I am, and to the extent that I can, will work on it publicly here, on 20 Lines.

If you wish to stay true to the 20 Lines format, write a few lines of it each day.  Or write several and then revise.  Or whatever works for you.  I am going to consciously compose and work the poem differently than I normally would, to see what happens.

You can share along the way, or at the end, or even not at all — but let me know if you’re going to be working on this — I’d love it if you’d join me.

Cheers, and happy writing,

Melissa


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Unbroken, by Pamela Wells

Walk around me

See me in pieces

Unbroken

Love me

Scattered

But whole

Beneath your every step

 

Somewhere between the space

And time you gave

Of you and I

Connecting

I found a larger frame to hold

Me, myself together

Come see my new picture

 

Celebrate my creation

A soul renewed

From my own design

Without need to mend

See me

Love myself whole

For I was never truly broken

© pjw march 2013

Pamela Wells


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Form For All ~ The Cinquain

Reblogged from dVerse:

Click to visit the original post
  • Click to visit the original post

Good afternoon/evening/morning everyone, depending on which of the world’s time zones you are in. My name is Tony Maude and this is my first time presenting Form for All.

A couple of Saturdays ago Fred hosted An Evening of Short Verse, using his Poetics prompt to challenge us to write poems of 12 lines or fewer. Many of us chose to use all 12 lines, thus neatly avoiding the need to be too brief;– I know I did ...

Read more… 902 more words

Sharing this with everyone because it's a new form for me and I thought you might like it, too. Plus, if you're not familiar with dVerse, check them out! Today, finally, is a poetry day, so maybe I'll be able to tuck one here today too! Cheers, and happy writing! Melissa


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Announcing: Photography Contest, in time for Spring

Reblogged from Women Writers of the Triad:

Female Photographers only.  (Sorry, fellas.)

Women Writers of the Triad is looking for photography that we will use on our website and potentially other marketing pieces and we would love your help:

Photographers:  We are looking for photography to use throughout our site.  It might be a flower in bloom.  It might be a bank of roses.  We'll know it when we see it.  

Read more… 162 more words


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Winter Sunlight, by Susan Dean Wessells

Thin and pale
at morning,
like water
from melted ice
pooled along the walk.
How possible
that there is warmth
in this?
Growing in strength
throughout the day,
pouring through the window,
leading me to bask
and drowse
in focused heat.
Now strobing
through trees
on my afternoon drive,
this light strangely sharpened
in its daily course
toward night.
Susan Dean Wessells


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This Shade of Blue

Reblogged from Melissa I. Hassard:

I don't know what to do with this shade of blue. It's sticky. It leeches to my fingers and now the cherries taste funny and I cannot eat them. Instead I eat this blue by the spoonful. It feels like cotton, like wool on my tongue and tastes like iron and honeysuckle: pain. My pain. Yours. It doesn't fill my stomach but my chest.

Read more… 139 more words


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In Search of the Poem, by Susan Dean Wessells

The words are hiding
from me
again.

I awoke,
certain they had summoned me;
but now
they have crept
out of sight,
engaged in their endless game
of hide-and-go-seek.

I search
under the thesaurus,
beside the dictionary,
but for all the words there
none adhere to me.

Then this notebook opens
revealing a welcoming page
and from my pencil lead
the poem bursts forth,
snickering quietly to itself.

Susan Dean Wessells

Susan’s muse has bitten her! and we are the lucky recipients. Thank you so much for joining us here, Poet Susan, and sharing your work. — Melissa


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Taking My Medicine, by Susan Dean Wessells

Fish oil capsules slide right down.
Neurontin follows after.
Wellbutrin and Abilify
turn sadness into laughter.

Furosemide sticks in my throat,
I choke upon it daily;
while Trazadone at night I take
to greet the morning gaily.

Coreg and an aspirin
both for my heart I’m taking,
A variety of vitamins
are another cocktail making.

I take a few prescription drugs
that help me remain placid.
Omeprazole magnesium
protects from too much acid.

Let’s not forget the insulin
at breakfast, lunch and dinner.
It keeps my blood from sugar highs,
but doesn’t keep me thinner.

Susan Dean Wessells


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Meditation with Cat, by Susan Dean Wessells

Contemplative
as a wizened nun
he nestles in my arms,
regarding his universe
with a contented sigh.

Mandalas of dust motes
morph new designs
while phantoms unseen
(by me)
draw his unblinking gaze.

Head tucked in
and upside down
he sleeps
(and softly snores).
I cradle him,
humbled
by his absolute trust.

A study in serenity,
he instructs me
in the zen of being.

“It seems if there is a cat in the house of a poet at least one poem will be generated extolling the feline. This is my de rigeur cat poem.”  – Susan Dean Wessells


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Free Fall, by Susan Dean Wessells

Thirty years
(and counting).
I am falling still.

Sometimes the sky
is achingly blue,
and the memory of clouds
brushes white against azure.

At others,
cumulonimbus
create the bouncy castle
in which I jump
and play.

Then are those gray days,
rent with lightning,
drenched with rain,
when misery enfolds me
and I long for solid ground
on which to make
soft landing.

Susan Dean Wessells

Susan Dean Wessells has been writing poetry since ethe age of eight. Her life has been rich with varied experiences which nourish her writing. In 2007 she realized a lifelong dream of being a contestant on the Jeopardy! game show. She is currently writing a novel about vampire nuns.

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