Category Archives: poetry

When I Write

As I write the folks in my novel
Yes, it’s all coming back to me now.
Each one has traits so familiar
Don’t ask me the why or the how.

But each one has stamped me with something!
Time’s passed and they are afar.
Sure’n the writing is making me find in myself

Some part of who they all are.
 
How did this come round to happenin’
I guess cus we followed our vibes.

And they say we get changed and are different
When we let others into our lives.

We’ve tangled and jumbled each other.
I knew them, their love and their pain.
I felt their sunshine and laughter

And we all got drenched in the rain
 
‘Cus of them I found my direction
They’re apart and within just the same.
We meet up again in my writing.
My novel sets round them a frame.

When I write, we’re together again.
*epiphany


While I chip away at the rock of editing and revising Epiphany, please consider downloading The Way Back from any e-book store, written by S.K. Carnes, me. Here is a review:
“The Way Back: A Soldier’s Journey has something to please any reader – romance, history, adventure, drama, poetry, a quietly epic feel, a magnificently rendered landscape, and eclectic characters unlike any of the ‘ho-hum’ heroes of lesser fiction. Having once entered John Chapman’s world, readers will want to linger, holding close one of the most pure-of-heart and earnestly crafted narratives in recent memory.” —Writers Digest


Order the Historical Novel by S.K. Carnes,  The Way Back, recently released in all e-book stores.

Chronic Guilt: Theme

The above image from www.idealist4ever.com

Novel Revision

The first draft of Epiphany is done, and now I am attempting my revision. I wrote Epiphany for me, and it was great fun to write. I laughed and cried allot writing this book. Truly, it showed me the “Epiphany” that freed me, informed me, and sent me off to proceed with my life. But this time, as I go through revising it, I am writing for you, the reader. Hopefully, I will succeed and make this book  both entertaining and meaningful.
Of course, I am identifying some themes in this book. I spent 6 years counseling in a Chronic Pain Center and learned some fantastically useful ideas. This first idea, well, here it is in a poem I spun off this morning. Maybe this is not a great poem, but it gives the jist of one theme I identified in Epiphany. Writing in prose,  guilt is going to be present with choices that break or bend family rules. I don’t mean that the old familial rules are wrong.  But as circumstances change and time passes, rules change too. Of course I am not talking about killing someone or breaking the rules of  society in a radical way like that. But the guilt involved in finding one’s own truth should not go on forever. And if it does, well there is a lie in there somewhere.  It is the same with chronic pain if there is no physical cause.
This poem hints at the theme for my next blog.  Watch for it. And please comment if you have experienced chronic guilt, or succeeded in disarming it.

Chronic Guilt

You must, you should, you have to do
Believe and be and stick like glue
To family ways, the family tree
Tall and clean
Straight and green
You belong to us and not to you.
If you should stray, don’t show your face
We wont allow you to disgrace
Or bring us shame
Our name defame
Or you’ll be banished from this place
When reasons needing rules has passed
Still ball and chain of guilt holds fast
Release the tie
Disarm the lie
Free yourself to learn at last
Create yourself! What lines what hue?
What space defines? Yes think anew!
Be unique
Learn what you seek
And most of all, love your –  you.
It doesn’t happen in a day
Try to learn what you have to say
Art will free
You and me
When you’re all wrong, try another way.
The path you take exacts a price
Pick your road and don’t pay twice
No excuse
To not cut loose
Pay the toll and roll the dice


Order the Historical Novel by S.K. Carnes,  The Way Back, recently released in all e-book stores.

What Does It All Mean?

Image is modified from: tsmyfun.net/MyFiles/2014/05/sad-alone-love-girls-hd-wallpaper-10-450x337.jpg

Hoorah! I finished the first draft of Epiphany, my third book and second novel.  That was an accomplishment! Granted, it is full of passionate extremes and lush places to wander and wonder, but it’s entitled Epiphany. Does it live up to it’s name? Did I end up where I was going? Should I smooth out the bumps and delete the detours? Was it worth it? What was this journey like, and what will it be like writing it over?

It takes time.

I know I could have written this faster. But, rereading letters, making contact with friends from my Oregon adventures, musing on long walks, and sometimes, sitting at the computer at 4 AM, putting notion and inspiration into words—all of that and more, takes time. Like saddle breaking a horse, like baking a cake, like learning to play the violin, like listening to music.  I listened to Garth Brooks singing The River. http://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/garthbrooks/theriver.html

Trying to learn from what’s behind you
And never knowing what’s in store
Makes each day a constant battle
Just to stay between the shores…and
I will sail my vessel
Till the river runs dry…

Yes, trying to learn from what was behind me was worth it. Revisiting the haunting beauty of Oregon, and tying up the strings that brought me through heart stopping fear and mountaintop joy, going crazy, stretching the limits of my creativity, seeing clearly now and then. Wow. What a trip! Now I get to do it again, and find better words to honor all those that I met along the way. BTW, as I struggled through the first draft, I learned new wordplays. Here: I’ll show you. First, a simple poem about what I learned in the

 Game of Love.

Take what you want
And pay the price
Give it a shot Come roll the dice

You play the game
And steal the prize
Dodge the blame And pay with lies

Well, here is news
For when you cheat
Yourself you lose
In troubles deep

At the San Miguel Writers Conference, I learned an old form of poetry called a Villanelle. It is also simple—sort of lilting like the pastoral countrysides of Oregon. I wrote this villanelle about the same subject-love gone wrong.  That sounds “country like” doesn’t it?

“Come, lean on me, and warm—my—bed
Embrace my heart and hold my hand,
I’ll love you—forever,” he said.

“You could be hurt, or even dead
But I’ll keep you safe in this wild land
Come, lean on me, and warm—my—bed.”

“We’ll visit sites of which you’ve read,
Nothing’s too big, nothing’s too grand.
I’ll love you—forever,” he said.

“Abandon fears and take instead
My promised golden wedding band.
Come,  lean on me, and warm—my—bed.”

He filled her hands and filled her head
With all she and her God had planned.
“I’ll love you—forever,” he said.

He lied,  and bitter tears she shed
Ore cherished words, like fool’s gold panned:
“Come, lean on me, and warm—my—bed
I’ll love you—forever”, he said.

Oregon itself begs to be a poem.  Have you been there? Can you dream of such a place?

Lions, bears, possums, raccoons
Ravens, eagles, quails and loons
Mountaintops, valleys, cliffs and caves
Waterfalls, pools ‘n ocean waves

As I rewrite Epiphany, a journey into passionate extremes and lush places to wander and wonder, I want to take you along. It turns out this book isn’t about finding the love of my life-it’s about learning to love.

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Order the Historical Novel by S.K. Carnes,  The Way Back, recently released in all e-book stores.

Together—Hand in Hand

As I write Epiphany, my third book, I think about the children I met in Oregon’s Cascade Mountains where I worked as an Elementary School Counselor. A 4th grader by the name of Fawn comes to mind. One afternoon she was crouched, rocking herself back and forth outside the Principal’s office, wailing like her life was ending. I scrunched down to be on her level, feeling every sob tear at my heart. What could be so wrong?
“I did it to be pretty,” she sobbed. “I wanted to look just fine.”
“Why Fawn, you are pretty,” I said cupping her wet little face in my hands. And you are just as fine as you can be. What did you do that seems so awful? Did you burn down the school?”
“No,” she sniffled.
“Did you shoot your teacher Fawn?”
“No, she shook her head shedding tears all around, with the slightest smile showing that she wasn’t THAT bad.
“Well, what did you do then?” I asked, mopping her face and the collar of her dress with my handkerchief.
“I stole earings from Marsha Jane. She had ‘em hid and was showin’ off to the other girls in the washroom. So when she went out to recess, I stole ‘em— only Judy saw me. And now I have to see the Principal! I needed them earings to be pretty for my Grandpa.”
“Oh— well come on, I’ll hold your hand and we will go together to see our Principal Marshall Wayne,” I said. “Be brave. Let’s own up to this and take the punishment. Are you ready?” And so, I entered into Fawn’s world of fear and doubt, and found out all about needing to be pretty. After the experience —both horrifying and terrifying— I used the song “Where, I Can’t Find” that Lenore, Fawn’s sister wrote. We wrote it into  an original play we put together and performed. It was about feeling powerless, and not knowing what to do, until—well, sometimes being brave, strong, and hopeful comes only with an epiphany. And that is what we can help to happen for one another—together, hand in hand.

 Where I Can’t Find

When I want to feel like I’m pretty
When I want to look just fine
I’ll find my reflection in the eyes of my someone
Who lives only in my mind
Or
In some far-away place I can’t find.
When I want to do great things
When I want to mend what’s broke
Miracles circle  just out of my reach
That call to me in my mind
Or
From some deeper place I can’t find.
When I want to know the answers
When I want to feel like I’m smart
Bright bubbles of knowing blow by in the wind
That burst when I call them to mind
Or
Float off to where I can’t find.

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Order the Historical Novel by S.K. Carnes,  The Way Back,

recently released in all e-book stores.

The Novel as Framework for Memories

image cropped from c-hicane-tumblr-com.jpg

Insight About Writing Down Memories

 I find the characters I write about have changed me.

As I write the folks in my novel
Yes, it’s all coming back to me now.
Each one has traits so familiar
Don’t ask me the why or the how.
But each one has stamped me with something!
Time’s passed and they are afar.
Sure’n the writing is making me find in myself
Some part of who they all are.
How did this come round to happenin’
I guess cus we followed our vibes.
And they say we get changed and are different
When we let others into our lives.
We’ve tangled and jumbled each other.
I knew them, their love and their pain.
I felt their sunshine and laughter
And we all got drenched in the rain
‘Cus of them I found my direction
They’re apart and within just the same.
We meet up again in my writing.
My novel sets round them a frame.
When I write, we’re together again.

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Order the Historical Novel by S.K. Carnes,  The Way Back,

recently released in all e-book stores.

Write Yourself

image is a composite from melissamcplail.com and other sources

“I write because I don’t know what I think until I read what I say.” — Flannery O’Connor

The Dame in Chapter 23

Life it seems is like a play
Sing and dance and act away.
But, step outside, and it comes clear
The highs, the lows, the sad, the dear.
I write these down, my goings ons
The rights I did, the good, and wrongs.
I make a plot and structure too
For my novel, I think it through
Until at last its polished prose.
A page to start and one to close.
So here it is, my life between
Down to the long lost smithereen.
I agonize in guilt and shame
But through it all I am the dame
Found in Chapter 23
Hiding here-the clue to me.
Find yourself in here too
Write yourself and find your you.

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Order the Historical Novel by S.K. Carnes,  The Way Back,

recently released in all e-book stores.

Writing Epiphany

Image:By You Tube-Synthetic Epiphany Feat. CoMa - Icarus

I guess you could say I “struck it rich when I worked  for a school system in Oregon’s Cascade Mountains, so, I am writing Epiphany to  share the gold I found there. To tell my story, I’ve created Lucky Strike, a mining community seeking a school counselor, and Lori,  who applies for the job and lives out life changing experiences with Oregon’s children. This is what it is like to write about this turbulent time,when I lived my dream. Ha. This is what it is like to write about a break through that could be called an epiphany.

Writing Epiphany

Driven by knowledge road-marked with failures, on and on chasing deaththe radiant koan
Around the impasses, still pressing onward, dropping illusions, feeling alone
Upstream to the well-head, the lake that is hidden, the source, the essence the unsullied truth
To once again feel it, with surety, clarity, the rightness, the virtue, the dream of my youth.
Thoughts passing by on a ticker-tape ribbon, concepts, names, words on parade
I reach out and grab some, as they go by me, quick write them down, lest they vanish or fade.
Some stories linger, calling attention, like The Little Prince traveling on home, to his rose.
And I realize this wisdom, grows deep down inside me, waiting for water, and light I suppose.
So I struggle to tell it, to express what excites me, to spell out my towervision, my opinion, my take
What good would it be to leave unspoken, my part in the play, a crime, a mistake!
I want to contribute the best that’s within me, to write something lasting for someone to grasp
To keep them from falling, to pull themselves up on, to step on, to fly from, to love and hold fast
Like Silverstein did when he wrote of what’s missing, the broken place, that lets in the sun.
Like Kesey did when he wrote of the madness, the “Cuckoo’s Nest,” the lobotomy done.
Crashing and burning, losing and grieving, courting disaster with RWS_Tarot_17_Starnary a clue
That the circle leads inward in the grey of uncertain that listens in stillness, that opens the flue
So the smoke can rise skyward from smoldering mindsets, so fresh air ignites epiphany’s flame.
Inspiration fueled by new understandings, transforms, enlivens, leaves nothing the same.

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Order the Historical Novel by S.K. Carnes,  The Way Back,

recently released in all e-book stores.

A Legendary Character For Epiphany

Above image: st.gdefon.com

Lori is hired to be a school counselor in the wilds of the Oregon Cascades. Her new boss is legendary in the District. This is how she feels on her first day and her last day, and on all the days in between!

The PledgeEmperor

Engraved on his door is his name
The Principal Marshall Wayne
About excellence top notch supreme
His staff is the best—is the cream
Can I please him and still survive?
Can I finish this job alive?
I enter in hopeful and brave
To his office, his den, his cave
Putting all pretenses aside
My hopes and plans to confide
My very best service I’ll bring
I pledge like a knight to my king.The Chariot
He lays out what he expects
Less then that he soundly rejects
“Be early and never be late
We’re destined to win and be great
This job is really child’s play
You’ll work 36 hours each day”
My very best service I’ll bring
I pledge like a knight to my king.
 
 
Epiphany is the new novel  S.K. Carnes is formulating at present. She has been introducing (in this blog) some of the characters in Epiphany with poetry,pictures, and representative Taro cards. Soon  she will feature some “portals”—mind blowing experiences— that occur as the characters interact. Perhaps they will write the book—these characters I mean. Shall we shuffle the deck and see? What do you think will happen?  Please comment. Your opinions are valued!

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Order the Historical Novel by S.K. Carnes,  The Way Back,

recently released in all e-book stores.

The Dark Side

 Images from 4.fanpop.com-stop-child-abuse

I have mixed memories from my years as a school counselor in the Oregon Cascades. The characters I am writing into the novel Epiphany are made up from actual people I encountered there in the ’90s. I am introducing them in this blog called Portals, because these characters opened doors to new understandings. Your comments can enrich, inspire and make this—my third book—your book too.
The story goes that Lori, the protagonist in Epiphany (loosely based on myself) is hired by a school system in Oregon’s Cascade Mountains. Many families have moved away to find work, and new people have come to make their homes in the back hollows and haunts of the once thriving gold-mining and logging communities—transients, killers, junkies, pushers, abusers and neglected children among them. Lori uses the full force of her personality, along with games, art, music, drama, stories, movies, and her best counseling skills in her new job. She tries to encourage children to be successful and healthy as they deal with good and bad times. But as she uncovers horrible secrets, she comes face to face with “the dark side” in a life and death challenge beyond any she could have imagined. Here is a poem I wrote about the evil hidden behind the words, “Don’t tell.”

Hidden

Though tender skin and mind
Is ravaged
Deep down the child is bruised
And savaged
Though towering rage strikesdevil
With violence
And brands with “Guilt”
Expressed in“Silence”

Though dreams burn through and turn
To ash
Still children smile and
Let it pass
They fear the devil, but even more,
Disclosure, shame,
And the open door!
 

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Order the Historical Novel by S.K. Carnes,  The Way Back,

recently released in all e-book stores.

A Feminine Character in Epiphany: A Womanly Cure For That "Motherless Feeling"

Lori, our protagonist, has enjoyed exploring secret places in the mountains of Oregon. But,  she has been hired to do a demanding job, and with start-time looming, she looses heart and feels afraid. She remembers the song on an old album from Paul Whiteman, “Sometimes I feel Like a Motherless Child.,” (hear it sung here by Julie London) and sinks into depression. But Lori has a friend, the woman Claudia, who can provide solace and guidance for the difficult year ahead.
Have you also found a special person who can bolster your flagging self confidence? Remembering just how it felt for me, I wrote a poem about passing through the portal from melancholy to renewal, under the transformative power of a wise woman.
A Womanly Cure
See—the river goes somewhere,
Moving on.
Watch—the seedling springs up,
Growing in lockstep with the constant march of days,
While I huddle in the grip of doubt,
Wondering if I am lost in time,
Without direction, without knowing,
A student with no teacher.
A motherless child.
Adrift on a moonless night,
The compass has no needle, the radio no sound
The lighthouse has gone dead
In the eye of a monstrous storm circling round me
Set to strike.
It’s then I go to Claudia,
The sheltering wing of the angel
And she hugs me into herself, this woman,
Whispering ancient knowledge I have forgotten
Of Mother nature, fertility and abundance
And of harvest that nourishes the soul.
She holds the looking glass up for me to see my own womanly self.
With intuition as my compass, I hear the fiddler playing my song.
Claudia dowses up an artesian well of prophetic waters
To wash away fear
To shine a beacon of courage
To radiate the light of inspiration
To dissolve the clouds of depression
And I see my path forward
Across the year ahead.
Tarot_Series__The_Empress_by_Valerhon
 

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Order the Historical Novel by S.K. Carnes,  The Way Back,

recently released in all e-book stores.