Torrent Rising…

 

Torrent Rising

The bass of the speakers

makes my heart change rhythm

and I am old, and uncomfortable

with crowded people

hurting me with their rudeness

and sharp elbows.

So I find a quiet spot

where I can hear the music

de-obnoxious-fied.

I wonder why I’m even here

and I’m answered when

the band starts playing

blued, and blue notes

but it’s only for one song

as crisp lightning shatters the sky.

And then, it’s just you and me

and a handful of young girls

who all want your attention,

and I don’t want to be them,

but I don’t want to leave,

for I, too, still have dreams.

And so I dance up into the sky

with the memory of a song

not played

and the storm makes me beautiful enough

for me.

–Willow Croft

The Storm Within

 

 

Outside the Maze of Social Media…

 

The Maze

 

Goodness, Twitter’s layout change really threw me for a loop. I guess it’s telling that I didn’t even have an inkling that a changeover was in the works.

And I’m not even as experienced at Twitter as I wish I was, so I was perplexed as to why the change hit me so hard.

I’m not going to wax philosophical over a social media platform, but I’m also a oddly, incredibly sad about the change. And I feel a little displaced from that part of the internet world.

Maybe it’s the fact that social media has become such a staple of our lives that when it changes, it’s like losing a best friend. And maybe that’s even sadder.

Naturally, the designers have every right to change the layout of their social media program any way they want. And there’s some out there who are embracing the change.

But once I got over the initial shock of losing my purpley font and fun Twitter background, I felt relief.

“Thank goodness I don’t have to get lost in that part of the social media maze anymore,” I thought next.

I wanted to delete my Twitter account straightaway (I didn’t!), but I did tweet that I would probably be taking a sabbatical for the time being.

I just don’t have the energy to renavigate Twitter all over again.

I would certainly miss posts from the people I follow, but I consoled myself with the thought they could stop by here and say hi. And, since I didn’t delete my account, I could always peek in from time to time to keep up with them.

But, you know, I have a life. It may be very, very far from the life I want, still, but this intense transition period I’m in is definitely keeping me busy while I try to get everything sorted.

Heck, the number of short story and poetry submission deadlines alone are enough to fill the Twitterverse void.

Not to mention trying to sort out my employment situation, or where I’m going to live (or emigrate to) in hopes of climbing out of this tumultuous storm into a more stable existence. Or, at the very least, a more fulfilling one.

Which is why I don’t have time to weather the storms of change in social media. When everything’s in upheaval, you really want some things to keep on being a safe harbor.

But, then, quixotically, social media isn’t really a safe harbor in many ways. Especially for those of a diverse nature in regards to gender, et al.

It is a platform where the president of the United States will doggedly continue to tweet all of his garbage and nonsense, after all. (Long live #FakeNews! *laugh*)

So, maybe I’m in better company without the distractions of the Twitterverse, generally speaking.

And, earlier today, I wrote the first draft of a story for Fantasia Divinity Magazine’s Isolation theme.

Now, I’m catching up by writing this intended blog entry, based on my visual prompt I started earlier.

And I don’t feel so alone, anymore.

(And, maybe, just maybe, #SnailMail will start trending again!)

Of the Heart of the Storm

Of the Heart of the Storm

Madness swirls, here

this world of paradox and confusion

where ravens are kind, and

promise redemption.

On their wings, I fly into the eye

of my storm, where 

in ice and shadows and all things secret,

your light softly shines,

bringing me home

for the last time.

 –Willow Croft

 

LighthouseBeachView1
Egmont Key Lighthouse (Photo Copyright by Willow Croft 2018)

 

 

Caretaker

Caretaker

In this maze of dreams,

we are both lost and found

chasing each other like ghosts

up and down corridors and

through walls.

I follow lipstick’d messages

that blaze scarlet in this

endless dark.

Sometimes I hear you crying

in the looking-glass

where

I can’t leave you anything

but smeary hand prints.

Your rooms, caretaker,

are gathering more dust

with each passing year.

I want to find you,

bring you out of this madness, our ancient storm

into a world without walls and shadows

where we dance on rainbows

drink dew

and fly away on butterfly wings.

 

–Willow Croft