Good Morning, Name.

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Good morning, Name.

Day upon day, I carry you with me and

You never cease to change.
I do.
Tracing shapes.

Working within the lines.

Characters shifting—

Keeping it all within the margin.
Startling slants of “V’s” initiative shriek of potential hazards–

with ever increasing speeds—

only to crunch together at rock bottom.
Never fear!

Fly upward at the finale—

“I”—

You’re going places, Kid.
Alphabetic codes know no character though we’re slated to compose ours.
It begins with a name.

 

The Writer’s Manifesto: 101

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Write without condemnation.

Allow words to flow freely from consciousness and experience the freedom of rejoicing in the sound of your own self-expression.

Just do.

Let the inner light burn. Shed light into truth’s deepest pores and illuminate the unknown. Don’t fear the darkness.

Shine bright.

Write daily, even when you don’t know what to say. Write consciously. Write your view of the world as you see it from the inside, looking out. Identify injustice. Define sacrifice. Understand saviors and describe the great loves of the world. Speak the truths we live. Demand change.

No matter what you do, just write.

Visions of Thorns

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Poorly-lit recreation rooms empower stale scents of decades old décor.

Green plush cut with gray thick,
a turbulent smog brews by home design.

Passers-by painfully bear witness
to meek attempts of one’s potential while left
in trust of another-
“It was never easy,” she sighed.
The crown sank silently,
hiding the heart she knew-
one day-
she’d grow.

Wagging fingers and furled brows dance across a jaded eye line
hidden under those vicious points.
Rattling words tumble instinctually off the tongue:
You always learn the hard way.

The hard way you say?

Eyes transfixed.
Sound suspended.
Existence set in overdrive-
piercing through struggle-
ensnaring victories.

Crimson lips and bleeding hearts unfold a desire-
raw beauty-
to be shared only if wished.

My hard way is the only way.

 

Published on blognostics.net @2014 Megan D. L. Konikowski

Wanderlust [Found in Transit]

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Feet forward; firmly planted on the ground.

Organdy dreams in an outgrown yellow dress-

her eyes wide

-dancing among the cracks in the crowd.

Curtains draw on the dark corners of distant memories

-the fear of uncertainty beats within the four walls

of

her mind.

Shortness of breath.

Heart’s confinement.

Void.

Be still! The all-encompassing hue.

Diverging roads empty into the white light of her infinite sky

while blue windows grace the open air with chance.

What hopes lie in this world to be?

The vibrant wreckage of mortality.

 

 

Published in Issue I, antvswhale.com

 

Regulation of Ambient Hearts

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listenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenLOOKlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistencontrollistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlisteWAITlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenSTAYlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenDOlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenGIVElistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenlistenLOVE

Paralysis in the First Degree

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Fear is the nemesis

of a vulnerable mind.

It seeps into the tunnels of the purest heart

only to poison the rawest corners

of the soul.

All consuming-

a disabling threat-

it chokes the guiding light.

Vision’s faulted, but air is true.

The light of day warms the face of honest attempts.

Art vs. Traditional Journaling

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I was given my first diary when I was eleven years old- it was beautiful and all mine. It was pale blue with a bright, determined rainbow breaking through the clouds and guarded with its own lock and key. I would write about going out with my friends, the crushes I had, and any frustrations I may have felt. I wrote my world and put old notes or phone numbers in it, eventually hiding it under my mattress so that no one would ever find it.

The art of journaling stuck with me for the rest of my life, and I’ve been writing ever since. I’ve continued to reflect on the various worlds I’ve encountered in traditional journals. The narrative form of writing has certain advantages with some drawbacks. Narrative journaling can be beneficial when addressing daily events in life. Airing grievances through pen and paper can be therapeutic and a purge of sour thoughts and emotions. It can be a release, getting the “muck” that is in your brain out and somewhere else. However, if it is an ongoing issue that is a pattern, tends to feel pervasive, and doesn’t seem to go away, writing about it regularly doesn’t feel better; it can actually create more stress and anxiety and make the problem seem worse. This type of self-reflective journaling also tends to address issues at the surface level; it makes it difficult for the writer to truly gain a comprehensive understanding of every piece of the journaled event’s pattern.

This past holiday, I was given an art journal. What makes this process different is the incorporation of art (doodles), prompts, and various materials as you write and self-reflect. Unlike the spiral or marble notebooks I had been used to, this particular art journal was specifically designed with suggested materials and vibrant pages. Unlike narrative form, this had no left-to-right design; I started with the first image that came to my mind. Then the next, then the one after that. My train of thought took off, then the words picked up where the drawings had tapered off. When the first entry was complete, I looked at my creation and I had a more visual understanding of who I thought I was in the moment, what I wanted, and where I wanted to be.

Art journaling seems more rewarding with regard to self- reflection due to the fact that visual representations of mental images are used. How I “see” things in my mind are symbolically represented by the images on the page and interpreted by narrative writing, poems, or personal quotes.  The various trains of thought that previously looped in traditional journaling can be challenged; through art journaling, negative cycles, feelings of “getting stuck”, and positive aspects can be explored and enriched.

Traditional journaling tends to be a narrative were I spit out “surface” stuff- grievances, the day’s irritations, lifes questions, frustrations, and set goals. I don’t know where to start or what to do with them- I can’t see the path, it’s just left to right words on a page with no blueprint, no directionality between the concept behind the ideas.

Art journaling connects ideas through symbolic representation and individualized explanation. The aspect of self-reflection helps the writer understand how the images are personally relevant. They evoke particular emotions and perceptions about the self, which become . It is an enlightening process, one I believe that is more effective than traditional journaling.

Home Grown: Discovering the Basic Values of Love

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Love is an emotion and an experience that individuals encounter constantly in life. Various types of love are felt within the walls of relationships, yet sometimes we crave the same level of intimacy in each experience for security’s sake. However, every loving encounter will be different from the next. In order to gain an understanding of this dynamic concept of love, I turned to my family. I posed several questions, which include what the definition of love is, its vital qualities, and how different loves are expressed and received individually in a project called, “Home Grown”.

Overall, love is defined by the act of sacrifice. Such sacrificial acts could include putting another’s needs before your own, placing your wants on hold, and/or caring for someone’s well-being more than your own. This selflessness can be expressed in words, thoughts, and deeds and is often most appreciated when clearly communicated and reciprocated. The most simple expressions of love are verbalizations, affection, and being present and dedicated in the relationship.

Investment in different types of love in life are ever present. For instance, love for a place, hobby, and possession/pet require the same values that are needed for a relationship. These investments are static and are unable to reciprocate love; regardless, it is important to dedicate yourself to the act of caring for something outside of your being.

The act of loving is significant because it impacts the quality of life. To live without love is merely to exist. One must nurture passions, cultivate growth, and embrace different loves. The tides of change are long and inevitable- ride the waters with an open heart.