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Karma Free Writing will be offering 27 Days of Karma Free Writing Prompts starting on the 1st day of Spring. These writing prompts are designed to stimulate the creative process for writing your personal story - and beyond.
27 Day Karma Free Writing Prompts - Honorarium
The 1st 14 days are free. To go the whole 27 days there is a $27 honorarium.
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2010
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March
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- DAY #12. THEME: "REVISIT"
- Day #11 - Theme: "For me? You shouldn't have!"
- Day #10. Theme: "Turning Points"
- Day #9 - Theme: "Body Parts Know"
- Day #8. Theme: "I am HEALED!!"
- Day #7 - Theme: "Fun or Fear"
- Day #6. "Buying a pair of shoes."
- Day #5. "That Part Of My Live Is Over Now."
- Day #4. "That which is no longer."
- Day #3. "My Whole Life Was About To Change - I jus...
- Day #2. "Should of, would of, could of ... IF ONLY"
- "Prompt #1 - Things my parents taught me"
- KFWB - 27 Day Writing prompts - Intro
- Tomorrow We Start !!
- Almost there !! Two More Days !!!
- 5 More Days until the 27 Day Karma Free Writing Pr...
- One Week - Saturday March 20th 2010 - The 1st Day ...
- 27 Day "Karma Free" Writing Program set to start M...
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March
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About Me
People first see your eyes. That bright, penetrating blue pulls them in.
ReplyDeleteWhat they don't notice is us, your gnarly hands. We're the magic wands. Opening wide, spinning, pounding to make a point. Yes, your magic is because of us.
So why does he get so annoyed with us? Telling you to get us under control.
"Can't you talk without using your hands? They're all over the place. See if you can talk without them."
But we're your mouth. Those glossed up lips, so perfectly painted with the Orgasm colored lipstick are just wallpaper.
We're your voice, your soul, your passion. The more crooked our fingers become, the more wise and funny the conversation. The veins show more, but the dark blue looks so striking against our white skin.
We want you to bring us out more. We also like to grab onto arms, hold shoulders, and wrap around people who need more than our words.
Wonderful image of this! Loved the picture it created in my mind. "But we're your mouth. Those glossed up lips, so perfectly painted with the Orgasm colored lipstick are just wallpaper"
ReplyDeleteShe never looks at me except when I am clothed. Covered so my little dimples don't show. She likes me then. But only then.
ReplyDeleteNot when I am in a swim suit. And not when I am sitting for her on an uncomfortable chair. Oh my. No. She never thinks- My goodness gracious. This chair could be so much more uncomfortable. Thank goodness my buttocks are helping me feel a little more squishy. And oh my God. If you even say the word squishy to her- well watch out.
I'm not allowed to be squishy. Oh no. Her mammary glands yes. Even her stomach as long as it's flat. But not me. Oh no. I don't get the same treatment as others.
This comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDeletePart Two: What I Learned
ReplyDeleteI need to stop picking at my nails when I am nervous. I need to rub soft oil into them every day.I need to really begin paying attention to my body and keep it healthier. I need to examine myself with love and spiritual consciousness because this shell will not be here forever and it is a gift which allows me to do so much,
"Oh No! Don't do it!!!" screams the Left.
ReplyDelete"I see it coming! Coming down rapidly, seems in slow motion, but it really is happening in a flash! and the feeling of helplessness!!!"
"No, don't move the left one there, don't turn the foot that way! Can't you see what it is coming down???"
"I think it is way over 290 lbs," the horrified Right one screams! "get out of the way!!!
"It won't budge!" says Left "I am really trying!"
"You call that trying? Don't you know that you are putting me in jeopardy too?"
"waugfgh!!! here it comes," says Left
"What is she doing, thinking? I can feel the tension, the nerves sensing the impending doom, Cannot find a way to avoid this, oh noooo!! I think I am falling, it is getting dark!!!"
The Right emits a blood-curdling scream!!! "I am going with you!!! I didn't want to go with you!!!!"
"Quit your belly aching, you are not turned into an impossible position with 290 lbs of dead weight crashing down! You are of no help whatever!"
The Right yells at the last moment, "why is she doing this? Did she think this would be ok?"
In muffled tones, Left says, "She thinks everything is her job, even to move the impossible 290 pounder from the bed to the chair, who really doesn't want to move anyway!"
Right screams, "Will she ever learn?"
He tells me my glands are maxed out.
ReplyDeleteThe Chinese doctor always tells me things that sound sort of like a science fiction/horror movie and poetry.
I am tired, irritable, getting fat, lack imagination, itch and bruise easily because my glands are maxed out.
He says it seems I have too much stress in my life and my glands are working as hard as they can but they can't keep up.
He goes on to explain that stress in itself is neither good or bad. It just is. But that I have too much of that "is" in my life.
I don't seem to have much of the good "is". I have lots of wonderful aspects in my world, but I have lots of deception, people who say one thing but act another. These things make me anxious.
Apparently my glands are anxious too. Or maybe they're just working overtime. I don't know if they get anxious.
I wonder which glands are working the hardest.
I imagine my glands as kind of slimey short guys...sort of the Joe Pesci of the anatomy. They're getting together over red wine and single malt trying to play cards, smoke cigars, talk about the beautiful women they saw, but my stress has put them on the wagon. They're all chewing nicorette gum and they're in a celibate phase.
They don't like it.
It's flat on top.
ReplyDeleteI can put a spoon on it and it will dangle there.
It's my talent. (I can also put my fist in my mouth, but I'm a bit more impressed with the spoon trick...I don't have many talents.)
It's pretty big.
When I was a baby I've been told my sisters used to play "doorbell" with it. It was big, flat on top and porcine even then.
I look at photos of Soviet leaders from the cold war era and I see my nose. We aren't beautiful people.
If I were rich, I'd probably have had something done about it by now. Of course, there are so many other parts that need adjustment, it may have had to wait its turn, but, if I were rich, it's turn probably would have come around.
But it does it's job really well. It smells scents from miles away! It can detect spices in foods that no one else can define. It leads me to discover recipes that some want to keep secret.
If it just weren't so ugly.
It's a bit like those Citroens from the 70's. The ones that looked like horeshoe crabs. Apparently they were great cars, but damn were they ugly
I learned I'm stressed and I have an ugly nose that works well.
ReplyDeleteI know I'm stressed, and I'm trying to find a way out. I know I work with people who are duplicitous and it makes me crazy because I'm ridiculously straight forward.
I know my nose is ugly, but Barbra Streisand has an ugly nose and she won't change it because she's afraid it will change her singing voice.
What if I changed my nose and I couldn't smell and taste as i do? I want to know that there is a tiny bit of star anise at the base of this balsamic glaze.
So I'll live with this giant Prussian nose. If only I were in eastern Europe perhaps I could be a politician. Seems like they don't mind this nose. But then there might be duplicity in that job and my poor glands.....
Part two
ReplyDeleteThere was a reason for you to hear kids, especially those teenage boys you had a crush on, to call you penguin. Remember how they teased you so cruelly? Remember how you'd try to avoid walking by them, sitting on the wall near the entrance to the junior high.
That big kid David saying, "Let's have a contest for ugliest body. Never mind, we know who wins without having to vote.
Then as an adult when others continued hiking up to Wengen you and that old messed up hip had to jump on the train. That mangled, fused joke of a ball and socket taught you how to live with pain. How to remember that perfection is not part of any plan or guarantee.
But now we're together. I started opening up your world even in the recovery room. You wanted strength but I gave you that and something even better: compassion.
I'll always remember how you helped that poor, foul-mouthed girl with the wrecked spine. The nurses saw her as complaining white trash. You saw her as simply broken.
My titanium and your heart knew more.
Bonjour fellows karma free writers,
ReplyDeleteI'm excited and sad... excited to go in the woods for 2 weeks, sad because for the first time I'm gonna miss the geeky connection ... that brings me your beautiful stories and words.
happy writings, happy easter bunnies
Larkin, LOL, love: If you even say the word squishy to her- well watch out.
ReplyDeleteJoanna, ahhh great visual: We are so much more than this earthly shell. We are the final tip when you point to the stars.
Carolyn: will she ever learn? I want to know... what did she learn by writing this?
inkydinkyparlezvous, OMG I've teared up I'm laughing so hard. Joe Pesci image is brilliant and yet my glands (adrenals) can relate. They say, listen to her.
Lois, my heart sings in resonance. Ah, compassion.
It was fun, interesting, listening to my parts. Some new info - like ankle wanting a tattoo!
ReplyDeleteSome I’ve been aware of. Fortunately, I listen to my body, well, most of the time. I feel much more in my body than ever before and much more willing to care for it.
It does a fantastic job of housing my spirit and I do so appreciate all its functions, even if I haven’t a clue what all goes on inside.
I placed your feet on my lap
ReplyDeletesupported by my knees
Your legs graced me
You may not know
but, i blessed every part of you
I had never touched them before
Pappa, thank you for such an embrace
Thank you for touching my heart
What I learned today..
ReplyDeleteThat I should do yoga (and more exercise) that is stretching and not overly demanding of my body. My muscles are tense and my body is weary from incessant activity in a way that’s not organic.
Bodies should be worshipped daily and maintained. Bodies are not easily replaceable, but we keep wearing and tearing away as if we were like auto body parts.
"Without your health you have nothing." A dear childhood friend’s mother shared these pearls of wisdom from her inherent wisdom. She was a native from the banks of the Nile.
She passed away too soon from cancer, and the doctors couldn't put her back together again. On her deathbed she shared with me over a long distance call: "it's all that stress.. and the body can't keep up."
inkydnkyparlezvous: A man I loved forever had a huge nose that he always obsessed about. He was a technical engineer at a major studio. One day he had a recording session with Barbara Streisand. Guess what he talked about with me later? Yes all about the Diva's nose. I never noticed noses much until him. His never mattered to me, and I'm glad he never went through with the surgery.
ReplyDeleteMy feet: Oh how weary we are. We carry you forward and into the car and out of the office and then run on the treadmill or jog along the Charles River banks.. These winter months we have started to ache to the point where we think you might need to see a doctor. The toes are swollen, red and burning from pushing the gas pedal or pounding the pavement. Ahh the few rare moments of pleasure.. the muddy banks that over some bounce to your step. Or the once in a blue moon foot massages. Without us you’d be nowhere. At home in bed, but don’t blames us! We are the workhorses. We get you there. How you torture us with high heels and fitted flats? Why make us ache even more for you? You really should take better care of us instead of just thinking of us as “your dogs.” Oh my, how easily you forget us and the days of plentiful pedicures.
ReplyDeleteOk ya'll, I don't know about you, but this is pretty fabulous. writing like this and learning about a man you love with a big nose, the pain of naughty boys making fun of your body, squishy parts..that we all can relate to or fear, the need to do more..exercise and care, the need to do less...gnawing on our nails...is like being at a slumber party after the lights are out. There is a freedom in the darkness.
ReplyDeleteI look forward to your posts. Thank you for your work.
And Aubepine...I'm jealous as all get out of you going camping in the woods for two fucking weeks. That's great!!!
Great body reports! Spoons dangling from noses, dimples in hiding, those trusty dogs that get us where we're going with little compensation. Love reading this body language.
ReplyDelete(1) Supposedly our major job is to shrug the shoulders, but she almost never does that. She seldom says she doesn’t know. Perhaps we’d be better off if she did, because trying to be right all the time is one of the things that makes her so uptight and makes us so tightly strung. Anyone who gives her a shoulder rub says, “My god, you’re tense.” We think she’s almost proud of it. She has a card above her desk that says, “I can’t get rid of my tension—it’s the only thing holding me together.”
(2) We are very shapely. Not to brag, but we are the only parts of this body that have never come under criticism. Her triceps are jiggling a bit now when she writes on the blackboard, but we remain firm, strong, and—not to sound conceited—pleasantly curved. Well, yeah, we haven’t been shaved for months, and we do have age spots (who’d have thought they could find their way down here?) and, o.k., we’re dry and flaky, but no matter how she ignores us, we stay trim and toned. Her mother had great legs till the end, and it’s looking like we’ve got the same DNA. Not to toot our own horns or anything.
(3) What I learned: Tight shoulders, great legs. I saw a Scotsman in a kilt at Costco the other night and had to compliment him on his look. Great legs. Perhaps if I wore skirts, I’d get positive comments, too. But then I’d have to shave off those scant but long black hairs and apply lotion to the flakes and age spots.
I wouldn’t mind having relaxed trapezius muscles, but I don’t see it happening in the near future. I don’t like to get massages because I hate to feel the tension creeping back in afterward. If it’s there all the time, I seldom notice it.
I am the lower back, the part of your back that holds you erect, that lifts you, that carries you and nurtures you. I am the ability to sit and stand, walk and run. I am your source of strength, your center of gravity, your memory. I hold all that you are and all that you’ll ever be. I am a place to be cared for, to consider and tend to. I am a tender space, and as strong as I am, I require rest. Stretching is good for me, too. Your exercises are helpful and your attention is necessary.
ReplyDeleteI am your uterus. It is true what your gynecologist told you. I was made for growing things and when I am not growing babies I am moist and fertile enough to grow other things like polyps and fibroids. You have been kind enough to care for me regularly and you have a doctor who is concerned, patient and considerate. He loves to keep a woman’s uterus healthy because he understands that it will help you live freely, without pain.
This prompt was very healing because it allowed my body parts to speak to me. I can hear them on a daily basis, but sometimes they are so quiet and it takes pain to allow me to understand the depth of their need to be heard. When I write from their voice it teaches me the importance of listening to stay healthy.
I am amazed by how my body parts all work together to make me whole. They work together as one. All are equally important. I am honored to reside in this magnificent temple. My body, my true home.
I'm tired of being walked on, walked all over. You've broken me down, you've broken me twice. You let a surgeon cut me up, and shave my bone to bone, slice up my cartilage, rip it out. You gave me arthritis. Yes, YOU. You had to run around and run some more. Play football and basketball and baseball and track, oh, you're such a stellar athlete, no, you're a selfish prick. Always thinking about yourself. Nunca, nunca, nunca did you stop to soak me in some Epsom salt like grandmama told you. You tore off YOUR toenails, MY teeth, a dozen times -- without an ounce of Novocain! Blister after blister appeared. Do you have any idea what a torturing monster you are? You abusive shit. And what did you do in return for my loyal service... complain, complain, complain about my size. Hey, I was born this way asswipe. Deal with it. I have to deal with you. Just like Dylan said, "I just wish for one day you could stand inside my shoes so you can see what a drag it is being with you." How would you like a blister on your face or your ass? How about that planter wart that Dr. Go burned out with that electric prod. You yelped like a little girl and I screaming bloody murder like I was being gutted alive. And don't even think about running a marathon. That's right, I heard you the other day, your friend Anthony did it, "Why can't I?" Wah, wah, wah... over my dead arch will you pound my tired ass for 26 miles. You even try and I promise you you'll be wheelchair bound at seventy.
ReplyDelete