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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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April
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- Stories from the Gathering ...
- Thank You ....
- Day #27. The Last Day. Theme: "I am completely o...
- Day #26 - Theme: Tantrum
- Day #25 - Theme: "Releasing on the Exhale"
- Day #24 - Theme: "That is so me!"
- Day #23 - Theme: "Food."
- Day #22 - Theme: " I would NEVER ... "
- Day #21 - Theme: "What we eat off of ... "
- Day #20 - Theme - "The Liberty Bell"
- Day #19 - Theme: "Get the Picture?"
- No title
- #18 - Theme: "Listen & Follow"
- Day #17 - Theme: Intimacy
- Day #16 - Theme: Lies
- Day #15. Theme: "What connects me in my relations...
- Day #14 - Theme: Time & Space
- Video Support for Prompt #13 - View this FIRST !!!
- Day #13 - Theme: "What did I notice, What did I N...
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April
(19)
About Me
Thanks Joshua
ReplyDeleteYou are brillent the house and the self storage
that will keep me laughing all day
thank
this is so fun
shoegirl
My brain was buff-- Her brain was faster than mine, which was too fast. Her mind made her mouth move and sound came out faster than my ear holes could take. My brain was buffering. She spoke so fucking fast and so fucking smart and built so many fucking mouse traps with trap doors and black holes and time warps, it was only when she stopped-
ReplyDeleteAnd I stopped-
And we stared.
In silence.
Into each other.
On the blanket...in the park...that we could feel everything in each other.
skull swinger...wow
ReplyDeleteHe was born that day.
ReplyDeleteHis dad went to spend the night at a friend's house. I was in the hospital. It was dark. I was the only mother on the maternity unit. My little baby in his plastic box next to my bed.
Everything rattled. My bed rolled. The IV pole fell down. The little plastic bassinet rolled away.
I couldn't stand. I'd had a c-section and my legs didn't work yet.
I yelled for help. the call button fell with the earthquake.
A nurse came running.
Bring me my baby. Bring me my baby.
I did not know I loved him. He was some one new. He was foreign to me.
Now that he was across the room, I ached for him.
I held him.
I held him for four days. I never put him down. I never turned on the television.
I looked at him.
I did not want to talk to people. I wanted to look at him, smell him, hold him.
Everyone told me I wouldn't have any more time. Everyone told me I wouldn't have any more money. Everyone told me I wouldn't have any rest.
No one told me I'd fall in love.
Inkydinky -- oh, man, you so captured motherhood. No one can ever, ever explain a mother's love. But I think you did.
ReplyDeleteSkullSwinger: Stopping...and wow oh wow. So powerful in so few words.
We turn Mum gently so we can change the sheets. She moans low like an old dog. I hold her on her side, gripping her hip, while Nancy rips that part of the soiled sheet off the bed.
ReplyDeleteI feel Mum's bones and look at her face. No wrinkles. But the high cheekbones are more prominent.
"Oh, Mum, please die. This is not what you wanted when you said you wanted to live out your life at home. Please, please die."
I try to turn Mum onto the other side so Nancy can maneuver the sheet. I hold on to my mother as if she were a newborn. Her moans pierce my whole being.
The new sheets are on. Now we try to get the wet nightgown off without causing more pain. The brain tumors have killed my mother's words. She moans loud and we know we can't get the nightgown off.
We get the scissors. While I hold Mum on her side, Nancy cuts the gown up the back. Her favorite 100 percent cotton Calida one from Switzerland. We keep cutting until it's off.
She's stiffening as we try to put a clean one on. Moans that howl into my soul, singing misery and loss though she's still alive.
We settle Mum into her big bed with the peach comforter. I push the morphine plunger into her mouth. She chokes and gurgles, hardly able to swallow. Then she quiets down. No moans, just sleep.
I hold her hand. I have never loved my mother more than right now.
lkelly, thank you. Beginnings and endings of life are precious, horrible, awesome, terrifying, and true.
ReplyDeleteI don't want to post the 11 minute piece, but in your piece and in mine, I see how we can love someone with every cell of our being when all we can do is give.
An infant, an incapacitated mother, they give to us by their existence, but there is no dialogue, no tone, no missed opportunity to muddy the waters.
Oh I'm making no sense. Suffice it to say, your piece is beautiful, thank you, AND it's hard to hold this kind of intimacy. It's like trying to see a star at night...you kind of have to look at the side of it in order to see it.
skull dooood,
ReplyDeletesoooo funny, soooo ouchy, sooooo, smoooooth
Stopping in silence, Skull Swinger.
ReplyDeleteNo one telling you you'd fall in love, inkydinkyparlezvous.
So beautiful!
We are dancing in sync with no need to move. We are at one, joined in the deepest place within ourselves, the kindest, most generous and loving place inside ourselves that we have to offer. We smile and nod, knowing what the other is thinking. We make music together, physically as well as spiritually. We play bongos, congos, djembe drums, percussion and guitar. We sing. We dance. We share fears and concerns, as well as joys and successes. We are each other’s biggest fans. We have been known to drop everything to be there for each other. We get to fall asleep and wake up in each others arms. We are love, at its very best.
lkelly: incredible. poetic and painful. there are no words.. except maybe inkydinkyparlezvous said it:"It's like trying to see a star at night...you kind of have to look at the side of it in order to see it."
ReplyDeletemy 11 min can't stand up next to this!
just a riff tonight..
ReplyDelete___
Taming a freshly-shorn wild horse.. Gentle and warm but solid and strong.
My voice still is sore. Not from shouting but from the tension of holding back a scream. The calculated withholding sends emotional shock waves through my body.
I want to scream, yell, shout.
The situation looks like rotting fruit… and the flies are staring to swarm.
It’s the end of the world. And, my universe has collapsed.
Running a day late, but
ReplyDeleteWow, oh wow...
The connection between mother and child is the ultimate. And foundation of all. I find it curious or is that "of course" mine followed the same vein.
It creeps into my face, jaw relaxes, pulls into a smile.
ReplyDeleteHeart once again buoyant, eyes fill, throat opens.
I want to sing, burst forth the joy that spills from my eyes.
Mother inside mocks, disallows spontaneous joy.
How sad, you who bear that very name, so resist.
Afraid of being shunned.
Do I need permission to be intimate?
Do I need another to be intimate with?
Can I truly be authentic with myself?
Too heady.
Body says be in me.
True intimacy, if done correctly, should involve crying and laughing. The root of intimacy is surrender and surrrender's sidekick vulnerability.
ReplyDeleteLying flat on my back, arms and legs out straight - relaxed; eyes gently closed, completely naked -- that's how many intimate encounters begin -- not for me but...
For me they generally start out: "Happy Birthday, honey. Ready for your present?" As I unzip my pants she usually laughs and then I cry: true intimacy.
Alright, intimacy -for me you offer another person your heart and your ears -- you listen and feel only for that person in front of you (occasionally sex is involved). If you're a guy you definately want sex to be involved. If you're a woman non-sexual physical contact - holding, hugging, breathing close.
To be on the other side of getting that complete attention given to you can be unbelievable. I've never had it but... okay I have. Of course it all began because of a break up with a woman I'd been with for 2 and 1/2 years. It was very tough on me and I happen to be with two people who gave me their hearts; their ears; their complete attention -- then we had a menage a trois. It was great- the beard bothered me a bit. I was travelling with a circus side show at the time. Freaks generally have a lot of empathy and some have certain physical attributes that... um, don't want to get into it. Co-joined twins sharing ONE BREAST - wow!
Back to true intimacy: I have felt the tremendous power in fully surrendering to another person - it's not even power - it's the opposite of power - it's... salt. Like salt in water... it's dissolve. That's the effect of total surrender; dissolving into the moment; being surrounded in a nonexistent time and place - dissolving into the surroundings -- surrounded by the surrendering of the total surrender of your surroundings -- that's what it's really like. But you're there in total non-control. You can't control a God-Damned thing and it's awesome! So at that point it's like a great drug trip. An extremely coherent drug trip. And as the both of you are trippin', you notice these pink and purple kinda like threads - moving fibers that come right out your breastbone and snake their way across and enter into the other person's heart and you realize that connection can be concrete and seen by the naked eye and that it is real. Not really but real in a surreal Echerist way. Now at that point I had wood but it really didn't matter.
So in that state of fibrous connection we laughed, we cried, we dissolved into each other and that's when I realized that I was pretty awesome .. I mean I'm listening to this girls problems and tribulations and I offer her help and you know, I might get laid... I mean down the road a little: right now it's all about listening and caring and empathizing. I mean if sex is a by-product...
It's like the mans justifies the ends. I think. "Do good things for people and women will do good things for your private parts" OR for you, or something.