Heather Strang, Writer
 
   
     
 

Heather Strang, Writer & Coach

Thursday, April 30, 2009

NaPoWriMo - Day 29 - Friends Among Strangers

Friends Among Strangers

Peace
Washed over me
Gently, gracefully
As your story unfolded
It was sad, but rang so true
I felt the comfort of friends
Even among strangers
Here, in this strange place
I discovered my truth
The truth I had searched for
My entire life
Right before my very eyes
In the eyes of strangers
Who are now friends
Every ache, ounce of pain
And misery was confirmed,
Understood and acknowledged
My entire life made sense
And peace,
Peace was my
only emotion.

© 2009 Heather Strang
All rights reserved.

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Tuesday, April 28, 2009

NaPoWriMo - Day 28 - Words

Words

It escapes me
mid-thought
I ask it to wait
just give me time
to find a pen
or something to write on.
But, it doesn't care
I can be driving
In a meeting
Or in the midst of dispensing advice
and there it will be.
The words, the sweet words
for this blog, for a book
for an article.
There's no stopping this flood
of words.
They do not have any particular
concern about my whereabouts
or the location of a writing utensil,
they simply bust out and,
I am lucky to catch any of them
at all.
I will recite the first line over and
over hoping to cement it into my
memory.
Sometimes it works,
Sometimes it doesn't.
And then I am left with a feeling
a feeling that something beautiful
passed through me
something of note.
It's on the tip of my tongue.
I lay my head in my hands
and beg it
to come back.

© 2009 Heather Strang
All rights reserved.

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Monday, April 27, 2009

NaPoWriMo - Day 27 - Some Days

Some Days

Some days are meant for this
For snuggling on the couch
For forgetting there's any work to be done

Some days are meant for lounging
Quietly by the pool
Sun caressing the plants, trees and skin

Some days are meant for creating
All alone, in the zone
Cookies, poems and news articles

Some days are meant for love
With a stranger, a good friend or a partner
Smiling, laughing and lingering on

Some days are simply meant to be.

© 2009 Heather Strang
All rights reserved.

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NaPoWriMo - Day 26 - Gratitude

Gratitude

And the winner is...

Me.
Figure eights
Oranges
Ocean healing
Meditation on red rocks
Green smoothies
120 lbs
And ginger snaps
For days
Jessie who drives like
a dream
Brown boys who send
shivers up my spine
Sexy dances
Books that inspire
Best friends
Chakra clearing
Garden walks
Sunsets
Organic
For real.
Reality TV
People mag
Endless poetry
Writing from my heart
Fresh avocados
Pineapple
Chickens
Bright, bright sunshine
80 degrees
Rumi
12-steps
Kathy Freston
And
Cooking, cooking, cooking.
Waterfalls
Bed & breakfasts
Sleeping in
Naps
Photographs
New, new, new, new.

I am so grateful.

© 2009 Heather Strang
All rights reserved.

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Saturday, April 25, 2009

NaPoWriMo - Day 24 - Naked

Naked

She was
naked
and lovely.
I could not tear
my eyes
off of her.
Passerby's diverted
their gaze
Seemingly intent on
the tiles on the floor
rather than the
naked goddess
before them.
Her hair was
heavenly white
with tinges of silver
scattered delicately
throughout.
Her body was
round and full
with freckles gently
covering her cafe
colored skin.
She was poised,
and graceful
lying there.
The pool sparkled in
front of her
while bikinis and
speedos zipped by.
She noticed none of this.
In fact, it's possible
she didn't notice any
of us.
She was a goddess
and we were merely
lowly servants
scuttling
around her.


© 2009 Heather Strang
All rights reserved.

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Friday, April 24, 2009

NaPoWriMo - Day 23 - Magic

Magic

Observing oneself
is fascinating stuff.
Watching the mind
scurry around
like an ant eager for
food, seeing it grasp onto
anything it can
to continue the madness.

Humanness is a perplexing
conundrum.
Always seeking to
define
make sense of
categorize
and judge -
people
places
and experiences.

Synchroncity is magical.
The continual surprise
Of the stars aligning,
Of two seemingly
random events
bolting into one another
in a way no one could have
predicted.

Observation lends itself
to our humanity.

Synchronicity reminds us
we are magic.

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Wednesday, April 22, 2009

NaPoWriMo - Day 22 - Make-Up Poetry

I wanted to give everyone plenty of time to read the beautiful interview (and poem) from the lovely Sage Cohen. And guess what? I turned in my first book - of poetry - to the publisher last week. Sage actually inspired me - she encouraged me to trust myself, my voice and to believe that modern day poets are absolutely relevant in today's world. Thanks Sage!

Onto the poetry...

Meditation

Whispers echo across the cliff
I turn with a start
And the ocean breaks ferociously
The red rock crumbles softly

My eyes close effortlessly
But then, the thoughts come
Fast and furious with fears
And hopes and dreams

Voices carry me through the fear
Into the quiet and deeper still
Suddenly, it stops
The ocean, rock and whispers on pause

I feel the universe shift
Shivers cover my body
And images flash before me
We go deeper still

Fear is gone
Peace is its replacement
I know what to do
I know exactly what to do.

I open my eyes.

---------------------------------

Support

In a group full of strangers
We all tell our sad, sad stories
We cry
Shake
And comfort one another.

I am not shaking.
I am watching them.
Careful to not be exposed
Careful so they do not see
the resonance within me.
It is my turn to talk and my voice
Cracks and breaks.
I will not cry
I will myself to stop the tears
I am not ashamed
I tell myself, but my face tells another
story.
Sipping my tea
Hands cupped around it
As though it were my last hope,
I lie.
I say that I am fine.

We all know I am not.
Shaking our heads in silent
understanding,
We continue on.

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Sunday, April 19, 2009

For National Poetry Month: Q&A with Sage Cohen, Author of Writing the Life Poetic


Q&A with Sage Cohen, Author of

Writing the Life Poetic: An Invitation to Read and Write Poetry

a new book from Writer’s Digest Books

How does poetry make the world a better place to live?

I think poetry fills the gap left by the so-called objective truth that dominates our media, science and legislation. Many of us want to comprehend and communicate the complexity of human experience on a deeper, more soulful level. Poetry gives us a shared language that is more subtle, more human, and—at its best—more universally “true” than we are capable of achieving with just the facts.

How has integrating the reading and writing of poetry into your life impacted you?

I will risk sounding melodramatic in saying that poetry saved my life. I stumbled into a writing practice at an extremely vulnerable time in my early teenage years. Poetry gave me then, as it does today, a way of giving voice to feelings and ideas that felt too risky and complicated to speak out loud. There was a kind of alchemy in writing through such vulnerabilities...by welcoming them in language, I was able to transform the energies of fear, pain and loneliness into a kind of friendly camaraderie with myself. In a way, I wrote myself into a trust that I belonged in this world.

Do people need an advanced degree in creative writing in order to write poetry?

Absolutely not! Sure, poetry has its place in the classroom; but no one needs an advanced degree in creative writing to reap its rewards. What most people need is simply a proper initiation. I wrote Writing the Life Poetic to offer such an initiation. My goal was that everyone who reads it come away with a sense of how to tune into the world around them through a poetic lens. Once this way of perceiving is awakened, anything is possible!

Why did you write Writing the Life Poetic?

While working with writers for the past fifteen years, I have observed that even the most creative people fear that they don’t have what it takes to write and read poetry. I wrote Writing the Life Poetic to put poetry back into the hands of the people––not because they are aspiring to become the poet laureate of the United States––but because poetry is one of the great pleasures in life.”

Who is Writing the Life Poetic written for?

Practicing poets, aspiring poets, and teachers of writing in a variety of settings can use Writing the Life Poetic to write, read, and enjoy poems; it works equally well as a self-study companion or as a classroom guide. Both practical and inspirational, it will leave readers with a greater appreciation for the poetry they read and a greater sense of possibility for the poetry they write.

What sets Writing the Life Poetic apart from other poetry how-to books?

The craft of poetry has been well documented in a variety of books that offer a valuable service to serious writers striving to become competent poets. Now it’s time for a poetry book that does more than lecture from the front of the classroom. Writing the Life Poetic was written to be a contagiously fun adventure in writing. Through an entertaining mix of insights, exercises, expert guidance and encouragement, I hope to get readers excited about the possibilities of poetry––and engaged in a creative practice. Leonard Cohen says: “Poetry is just the evidence of life. If your life is burning well, poetry is just the ash.” My goal is that Writing the Life Poetic be the flame fueling the life well lived.

What makes a poem a poem?

This is one of my favorite questions! I’ve answered it in my book, but it’s a question that I’m answering anew every day. And that’s what I love about poetry. It’s a realm where invention is not limited entirely by definition; there is room enough for the endless possibilities of the human. Every time we try to draw a line around what a poem is, something spills over into the next frame, shifting the point of view and demanding new names: olive, token, flax, daffodil. A poem is all of these, or none of them, depending on the quality of light and how the blade in the next room stirs the night.

What do you think people’s greatest misperceptions are about poetry?

I think the three greatest stereotypes about the writing of poetry are:

  1. That one has to be a starving artist or deeply miserable to write great poetry.
  2. That reading and writing poetry are available only to an elite inner circle that shares secret, insider knowledge about the making of poems.
  3. That poetry does not fund prosperity.

I hope very much that Writing the Life Poetic helps offer alternatives to some of these attitudes and perceptions.

I’d love to conclude with a poem of yours. Would you be willing to share one?

Of course! Happy to!

Leaving Buckhorn Springs

By Sage Cohen

The farmland was an orchestra,

its ochres holding a baritone below

the soft bells of farmhouses,

altos of shadowed hills,

violins grieving the late

afternoon light. When I saw

the horses, glazed over with rain,

the battered old motorcycle parked

beside them, I pulled my car over

and silenced it on the gravel.

The rain and I were diamonds

displacing appetite with mystery.

As the horses turned toward me,

the centuries poured through

their powerful necks and my body

was the drum receiving the pulse

of history. The skin between me

and the world became the rhythm

of the rain keeping time with the sky

and into the music walked

the smallest of the horses. We stood

for many measures considering

each other, his eyes the quarter notes

of my heart’s staccato. This symphony

of privacy and silence: this wildness

that the fence between us could not divide.

About Sage Cohen

Sage Cohen is the author of Writing the Life Poetic: An Invitation to Read and Write Poetry (Writers Digest Books, 2009) and the poetry collection Like the Heart, the World. An award-winning poet, she writes four monthly columns about the craft and business of writing and serves as Poetry Editor for VoiceCatcher 4. Sage co-curates a monthly reading series at Barnes & Noble and teaches the online class Poetry for the People. To learn more, visit www.writingthelifepoetic.com. Drop by and join in the conversation about living and writing a poetic life at www.writingthelifepoetic.typepad.com!

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posted by HStrang @ 12:18 AM  1 Comments Links to this post

NaPoWriMo - Day 18 - The Fixer

The Fixer

The air is
sticky
and hot
like the tears
streaming down
my face.
Oxygen is in short
supply,
the car windows
remain sealed to
stifle my cries.
I cannot possibly
understand
my predicament
or what to do
next.
I am,
after all
an expert fixer
with the ability to
solve even the most chaotic
of life
circumstances.
It is my specialty
if you will.
But, this one,
this conflict is
one that foils
even me.
It is the fight within
myself
It is the desire to
go deep
Go where I have
yet to go before
To solve the mystery
of who I really am
All
By
My
Self.
Is there anything
more terrifying?
I drive on,
Sticky tears
and all.

© 2009 Heather Strang
All rights reserved.

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Friday, April 17, 2009

NaPoWriMo - Day 17 - The Glow

The Glow

Laying amidst the
glow
Of our love
I ponder
Several important
concerns:
What if
this were
It?
What if
my life,
my precious life
consisted of only
these
intimate moments?
If I never
knew more than
a handful
of folks?
If I only ever
wrote
poetry from my heart
and chatted
on the phone
with strangers
the rest of my life?
Would I be
complete?
Would your name be enough
for me to utter?
Would our life be
enough for
my soul?
If only I
knew the
answers
to these pressing questions.
Perhaps then
I would not lay
in the glow of our love
my mind racing
with these
thoughts,
while you
slept.

© 2009 Heather Strang
All rights reserved.

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Wednesday, April 15, 2009

NaPoWriMo - Day 15 - Blue

The Color Blue

Blue
The color of
the ocean
the garden pool
my favorite shirt
and your eyes
Blue
How I feel when
you don't call
or you do call
and have nothing
to say
Blue
Radiates
from my eyes to
yours
Immersed in a
pool of deep
Blue.

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NaPoWriMo - Day 14 - The Girl With My Life

The Girl With My Life

Her hair is
blonde
and curly
her legs
long
and sexy.
She has my life,
you know.
Her days are spent
shopping
lunching
flirting
and looking
fabulous.
Men can't keep their eyes
off of her
and neither
can I.
Her secret is
simple:
she is magic.
She doesn't
care,
she is completely
detached
from outcomes
or the need for
others to
want her.
And so,
they
do.

Damn,
that girl
is smart.

I missed magical day #13, my sincerest apologies. The day got away from me, and around 2am I realized I had forgotten. It was suddenly day 14 and I simply didn't have it in me. :)

Rock on NaPoWriMo.
xo

Happy Writing!
Heather :)

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Sunday, April 12, 2009

NaPoWriMo - Day 12 - Where I Come From

Where I Come From

Cows
Manure
Farms
That's where I come from.
Top Ramen
Kraft Mac-n-cheese
Hostess Suzie Q's
That's where I come from.
Small town
Big trucks
Little ambition
That's where I come from.
Bonfires at the beach
Camping by the river
Slices of Main Street Pizza
That's where I come from.
Spiral perms
Leg warmers
Aqua blue scrunchies
There is no end to where I come from.


© 2009 Heather Strang
All rights reserved.

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NaPoWriMo - Day 11 - Gray Hair

Gray Hair

Gray hair,
No more

Paradise!

Seriously, when I was living in Portland I had gray hairs popping up like no other. I was continuously plucking (and cursing!) them. Since moving to Hawaii, they seem to have vanished! It's pretty amazing. Apparently island life eliminates the aging of hair. Who would have thought?!

xoHeather

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Saturday, April 11, 2009

NaPoWriMo - Day 10 - Silent Space

Silent Space

It seems as though you've lost your way
It seems as though I cannot stay
But here we are
One unit
Fully combined
Household goods
And sacred vows.
I wonder
Can I hold you in this still
silent space?
Can I reach you when there is
no where to reach?
When your soul
is barely audible
When my soul is
busy doing what it has always
done...
The music plays
And my hips sway
You touch my face
I am empty.
You are silent
Still.


© 2009 Heather Strang
All rights reserved.

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Thursday, April 09, 2009

NaPoWriMo - Day 9 - Ode to Matchmaker Millionaire

Ode to Matchmaker Millionaire

Matchmaker
Matchmaker
Make me a match
May he be perfect
And rich

And smell just like a
bottle of
Obsession cologne
May he be fantastic
and loving
Oh, and don't forget adoring

Matchmaker
Matchmaker
I'll do whatever it takes
Makeover?
Throw my head
back in
Mock laughter?
Done and done.

Just make sure he is perfect
Oh, and did I mention rich?

© 2009 Heather Strang
All rights reserved.

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Wednesday, April 08, 2009

Reflections on a Small Town & NaPoWriMo #8

Small Town Girl

She is tired.
No, actually she is
exhausted
From trying to
make it all work
She has three
children, she
tells me
And smiles.
Her smile fades
when the conversation
drifts
to the topic of
marriage.
12 years
and they can't even have a
conversation
Is this the life she signed
up for?
Is this all there is?
She can't quite reconcile
herself
to it all.
I smile back at her,
I can't quite
either.

I went from living in a city of 2 million people to an island of roughly 60,000. Culture shock? Not entirely, since I was raised in a town of 4,000 people. To be honest, Kauai isn't much different than where I grew up - Tillamook, Ore. (the population of Tillamook will be thrilled to hear this). Except for the tropical scenary, warm temps and aqua blue ocean, of course. In any event, it is a bit startling to my system - it's been more than 13 years since I lived in T-town!

Here's the deal in Kauai - as far as I can tell at the 6-week mark:
-Everyone knows everyone.
-Local girls marry local boys. And when locals branch out and hook up with non-locals - there are mutterings and grimaces.
-You drive down the street and wave at pretty much every car because you know everyone. If you don't know them, they are probably a tourist.
-You wear board shorts and flip-flops virtually everyone - this primarily is true of men. No need to get dressed up, you're in paradise, bro!
-Appetizers are pupus. Get used to it.
-The hang loose hand sign that went out of style in the mid-80's on the mainland is alive and well here. And it means Shaka, in case you didn't know.

And there's more: I paid for my car in cash - and the guy is so friendly and nice he gives me the car with only half down while I wait for the rest of the money to be transferred into my account. Our landlord brings us eggplant and fresh avocados from trees nearby. Just because. At the copy shop, I only have a $20, so the guy doesn't charge me for the fax. When I meet new people (which is pretty much daily), they greet me with a hug and a kiss (this I LOVE and this is not the same as Tillamook!).

With this shift in locale, I can't help but shift as well. I'm tearing up to country music for god's sake (primarily because it soothes me - I was raised on country and rock), and I'm enjoying the fact that my schedule is no longer jam packed. I feel like one of those 60-year-olds who looks back on her life and remincises about simpler times. I'm now living in those simpler times! And I'm reflecting, and getting choked up. Oy vey.

I don't wait in many lines or in traffic anymore, but I also don't get to hang out in my favorite new age bookstore. In fact, there is only one bookstore on the whole island (Borders), but there are more churches than I've ever seen in my life! I feel myself get anxious when people aren't on time or in a hurry - but it's Hawaii, man - you don't have to be on time.

Then, I freak out for a moment because I remember that I live on an island.
In the middle of the Pacific.
And I know two people.

And that makes me grateful that my new hair stylist is so damn sweet, that the guy who sold me my car was so laid-back and cool, and how lovely it is to work from home and create my own little island.

What an adventure, yeah?
This is Hawaii-speak, by the way, something I'm picking up.
Today, after stopping at one of the oldest churches in Hawaii (St. Raphael) I couldn't help but reflect on the myraids of ways that my life has changed.

Thanks for reading! ;)

Much love,
xoHeather

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NaPoWritMo - Day 7 - Number 3

Number 3

The third time
will be a
charm
He'll be all that the others
weren't

He'll fancy me in the
appropriate ways
Dream of only me
and love me like no other

We'll never
fight
or yell
or hate
We'll always be
inspired and
fulfilled and know
that we are
destined
for each
other

The third one
Will be the good one
The right
one,
I'm sure of it.

© 2009 Heather Strang
All rights reserved.

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Tuesday, April 07, 2009

NaPoWriMo - Day 6 - Read Write Poem Prompt

Read Write Poem, Inspired Poetry :)

Spinning

Sitting

Weightless

And in wonder

Will I fall?

Will I leap?

Will it all end today?

It's too early to tell

And so I sit

In quiet contemplation

And wait.

-Heather Strang
© 2009

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Sunday, April 05, 2009

NaPoWriMo - Day 5 - Island Days

Island Days

Sunshine
Hits my
Legs
and forehead
Birds chirp
and roosters scream
The water
in the pool
is cool against my
skin
I yawn
while palm trees
sway
Singing me a
private song
The plumeria trees
whisper their secrets
And the hybiscus
blush with embarrassment
I step in deeper
The water tickles my
hips
Now I'm swaying
with the palm trees
Mimicking their dance
As I become one
with the island.

-Heather Strang
© 2009

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Saturday, April 04, 2009

NaPoWriMo - Day 4 - The Dancer

The Dancer

Who is this dancing girl?
This girl who craves
Movement
And flip-flops on a sunny
Afternoon
Who reads poetry
While sipping tea
And dreaming of where she'll live
Next

Who is this girl who questions everything?
Who believes nothing is
Truly simple
And who must assign
Meaning to every
Occurrence
Every sign,
Every mark
Along the way

Who is this girl who is no longer a girl?
Trying to figure out what
Intimacy between friends,
Between lovers,
Between strangers,
Between family
Really is
Hoping that somehow she can figure it all out
Through a poem, or a song or a dance

Who is this girl who loves to create?
A new recipe
A new groove
A new life
Quite possibly for the very act of
Creating
With the dream that
In the end
It will mean something remarkable

This girl, this woman, this lover, this creator is
Me
And there are no labels
Or definitions or confines
Or even a box big enough to contain
My spirit.
It will soar
Simply because
It is meant too.

-Heather Strang
© 2009

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NaPoWriMo - Day 3 - Country Music

Country Music

These days
The only
Thing
That makes
Me feel
At home
Is
Country music
The twang,
George Strait,
And songs of women and beers
Soothes my soul
Makes me remember
Where I am
From
And who I am.
With no one around
No familiarities to call
My own
I reach
For something,
Some shred of evidence
That I am not alone.

-Heather Strang
© 2009

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Thursday, April 02, 2009

NaPoWriMo - Day 2

Snow Birds

Matching his and her blue striped towels
Camouflage bathing shorts
And tanned, leathered skin

One thing is missing, though
The conversation.

She barely raises an eye
As he passes by
He watches her closely
Careful not to upset her
After all these years.

She studies her book meticulously
And then becomes bored
He is no longer noticing her
Now, she must get his attention
She may be 65, but she isn't giving up just yet.

So, carefully
Very carefully
She rises from her lawn chair
and saunters
Steadily, in her full piece
zebra stripe bathing suit
This catches his eye
He watches her carefully
She dips a toe in the pool and wades in
Her eyes lift up, gracefully
They make eye contact

The argument is won
The tension is gone
After 35 years,
They've still
Got
It.

-Heather Strang
© 2009

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Wednesday, April 01, 2009

April 1st Poem for NaPoWriMo

So...here goes!
Feel free to respond with your poetry too. It is National Poetry Month after all.

Alaska

On a pier in
Alaska
You shed a single
tear
And said you wanted to marry
me
We held hands in the darkest night of
nights
And you took my breath
away

With your
insistence
With your
confidence
With your
certainty
That I,
I should be
yours.

I had no answers for you
then
And, I still
don't.

Just a simple
memory
Of a boy
On a pier in
Alaska.

-Heather Strang
© 2009

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