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Miranda Lynn Hajduk: August 2013
http://mirandahajduk.blogspot.com/2013_08_01_archive.html
The sails are waiting for the sky at night –. The sailor’s dreams find comfort in the sun,. Who paints its canvas pink (to his delight). And sings the songs foretelling what’s to come. But no such Sun predicts my own waves’ tide –. No color comforts me or warns my sky. I’m left a sailor, blind, to stay or hide. From storms I fear, and pain that they imply. If I were brave, I’d set sail anyway. I’d turn my sails to catch the unknown wind. But am I brave? That’s not for me to say. Subscribe to: Posts (Atom).
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Miranda Lynn Hajduk: Next Door
http://mirandahajduk.blogspot.com/2014/02/next-door.html
An imitation of “Fern Hill” by Dylan Thomas. Now I was quick and eager as a young bird in the trees. About the leafy shadows and lonesome as the sun was lone,. The sky above the tinned roofs cloudy,. Rain waited and let me run. Reddened in the shadows of his smile,. And knighted by myself I was Sir of Imagination. And once before I had woken and counted pirate ships. Chasing the wake of my vessel. Over the crimson waves of sunset. And I was flitting like dandelion seeds, spent my days. I hate being alone...
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Miranda Lynn Hajduk: Poetry
http://mirandahajduk.blogspot.com/p/poetry_16.html
My novel is my baby, my love, my sole source of pride. But I love to dabble in poetry as well. Here is a brief selection of some of my work. The mystery of salvation, as told from a demon’s point of view. O little man, o foolish man! How have you so exalted you? That he would give you chance to live. As though to you existence due –. How can you boast he loved you most? What proof can you supply? Can say they’ve won and haven’t done. One act to merit such a lie. Now in the face of Evil’s grace. So long I...
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Miranda Lynn Hajduk: Traffic Laws
http://mirandahajduk.blogspot.com/2014/03/traffic-laws.html
Rain and asphalt embrace. Like a slap across the face,. It can be heard for miles, I should guess;. The glass cries,. Wipes its eyes,. And cries again,. The rivulets of water trickling like ants across the soil,. With no apparent place to go,. Just down, diagonally. And a massive game of Tetris –. The gaps that open and fill. If you know where you fit, then get there. Blur into an impressionist painting:. 8220;Starry Night, plus Traffic.”. Arms wave, back and forth,. They wipe the glass,. To what was once.
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Miranda Lynn Hajduk: Lost Lamé
http://mirandahajduk.blogspot.com/2013/09/lost-lame.html
The rustle of the autumn’s golden page. As if by thumb were leafed the gilded leaves). Shall whisper inspiration to the trees. To pen their paper’s face with adages. A story thus is wrought with foliage,. So leaving latticed staffs in symphonies. With brazen emptiness, a vacant stage. But once a page upon the street is dropt,. The ink is blurred by sodden breccia;. And so, the gilded page, the heart’s lamé,. Discarded, since the author thought it notched,. This masterpiece of marginalia.
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Miranda Lynn Hajduk: May 2013
http://mirandahajduk.blogspot.com/2013_05_01_archive.html
Twould seem that this is not a sonnet, sir,. And not a poem written to ask why. With accidental hope we felt inside. Twould now seem that your feelings were a lie,. As bogus as to rhyme "inside" with "why" -. And unto Love this scheme repeats its cry. To question of your words what they imply. As accidents do happen, I confess. Perhaps the Willow raised her eyes too soon. Perhaps the Stream to roots could not digress. Perhaps our instruments were out of tune. If accidents do happen when one tries,. Ive s...
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Miranda Lynn Hajduk: April 2014
http://mirandahajduk.blogspot.com/2014_04_01_archive.html
Vermont Meditation (tentative title). Beneath a notched sycamore. The grass catches scars of autumn. Falling as notched pages, torn from a book,. Would fall – (aptly) swaying like pendulums. Ticking away the days until December. The pages traipse towards the water’s edge –. Towards the lake, the cobblestoned rut,. And crowd against the limestone breccia. Like scrawled marginalia too cramped and blurred to read. Empty spaces, lattice-like against the sky,. Left by the pages peeled away,. The notes unfurl,.
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Miranda Lynn Hajduk: Vermont Meditation (tentative title)
http://mirandahajduk.blogspot.com/2014/04/vermont-meditation-tentative-title.html
Vermont Meditation (tentative title). Beneath a notched sycamore. The grass catches scars of autumn. Falling as notched pages, torn from a book,. Would fall – (aptly) swaying like pendulums. Ticking away the days until December. The pages traipse towards the water’s edge –. Towards the lake, the cobblestoned rut,. And crowd against the limestone breccia. Like scrawled marginalia too cramped and blurred to read. Empty spaces, lattice-like against the sky,. Left by the pages peeled away,. The notes unfurl,.
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Miranda Lynn Hajduk: Blank-Screen Moments
http://mirandahajduk.blogspot.com/2013/07/blank-screen-moments.html
I sit and stare at the bright, white, blank screen. Two minutes. Five minutes. Write a sentence. Erase it. Realize it's 12pm. Get up and get myself a bowl of yogurt and granola (mmmhmm good). Sit down. Finish the yogurt. Get up and fetch myself a picturesque little mason jar of water (how quaint). Sit down again. Curses. The screen is still white. The words didn't write themselves by now? It's one of those blank screen moments in life. For the words to write themselves? Is the landscape to be created?
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Miranda Lynn Hajduk: March 2012
http://mirandahajduk.blogspot.com/2012_03_01_archive.html
Redeemed: vision forum contest results. March 5th, 2012. Four days after the original announcement date) the winning stories for the 2012 Short Story Contest were chosen. Unfortunately, mine was not among them. Fortunately, that means I can now post the whole story on my blog without fear of disqualification. You can read the winning entries here. So, without further ado, here is Redeemed: a short story. A sharp scream split the frozen mist. 8221; All three of them stood. 8220;I put YOU in charge! The de...
