For the Eternal Love of Writing

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , on May 8, 2013 by peace4diane

I’ll admit. . .it’s been a while since my last blog entry. I have been working steadily and trying to overcome distractions to return to planet WordPress as Girl Gladiator/Word Warrior.

Gladiators Ready!

Gladiators Ready! (Photo credit: canonsnapper)

It has been quite the journey. Since my last entry, I have moved into a different physical space with my writing, having settled in a little coffee shop on the north side of the city. It is a cozy place where I never cease to find inspiration. It has quickened my resolve as a poet.

I resolve and find peace continuing to work on my little book of poems:
Crazy. Love. Poems. by Diane Lewis will be available fall 2013.

The coffee-house excites me, despite a mild case of writers’ block, my winter despair and annual depression that once again came to visit and wore out its welcome. I was finding my way back to my literary self; finding that I am the earthen vessel that carries God from one place to another.

He does not live in a building—He lives in a heart. . .my heart; and my heart loves poetry. I identify myself as a poet because that is who I am. My identity is hidden in the poet, and the poet is hidden in Him. So I continue to write and hold sacred the art of writing because I was made to be a poet, a lover of words, a wordsmith, loving all things written and discovering that for me, all roads lead to words.

I am a poet; I see the world differently by design. I live in the now as often and as fiercely as I can. I march to the drum beat rhythm in my head, not your music. Poetry makes me strong because poetry is my small offering to the world and I am happy to give it, contributing something towards humanity.

And besides all that, I have fallen in love with the concept of living (at least for a season) in Paris.

And besides all that, Stream of Consciousness is accepted for publication. Details to follow.

It has been a good break.


Bending The Universe

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , on January 12, 2013 by peace4diane

labrador (Photo credit: !alberto)

Bending The Universe

I find I live this ridiculous double life: in public I appear to be strong and cheerful though flawed—full of advice and kind words—i.e., a good person. The illusion I have created is that I am someone who, if you didn’t know already you’d try to get to know them. Although a little air-headed, very intelligent and passionate. Not passionate so much as in a sexual sense (although there is that side of me), but passionate in a political one: I will fight and believe in your cause and your right to have what you fight for. It is the irrepressible Aquarian in me. And then there is the definitely sensuous side of me. . .also very, very Aquarian.

For example, my birthday, as followers and subscribers who are patient enough with me will recall from lamentations of bygone days, falls ridiculously on St. Valentine’s Day! Because of this, I appear to the world as strong, true, focused, generous, self-disciplined; friendly and killing myself while trying, like an overly zealous Labrador puppy, to please everyone around me. I believe it is a by-product of being born on the national day of love.

This last thought provides the necessarily awkward segue to the central conflict: a human being should not try to be a Labrador puppy. On the inside, behind closed doors, I cry and cry, talking for hours to myself about myself. I call it praying, but if no one is listening, then who cares what it is; other than the gibberish of an old black woman filled with regret. I talk big game about the tragedy of living a life of regret—the unlived life, but in reality, that’s exactly what has happened; and I experience true sadness behind that door to my spirit’s house.

On my way to yet another doctor appointment, where I once again review with complete strangers my medical history—every flaw and imperfection listed first in alphabetical order (it’s easier to remember) then chronological order (which tells its own story), I began to cry. . .again. When this happens, especially when I’m in traffic I call it wide-eyed prayer, and because my eyes are open, I don’t hold much hope that the act is to be considered “prayer” at all—more likely to be regarded as a high-speed tantrum.

As for my spiritual journal, today God wants me to know exactly that: I am on a journey. I may seem to be standing still, but I must believe that things are working in my favor and just like a Steve Young–Jerry Rice pass/reception combo, it will catch up with me—else I go insane.


TAGS: double_life, paradox, paradoxical, Labrador_puppy, crying, sadness, ridiculousness, prayer, journey

Poem: You Are My Muse, by Diane Lewis

Posted in Uncategorized on August 6, 2012 by peace4diane

You Are My Muse

i understand it now

you are the key to the portal
to my creativity

with you i unlock
the Elohim inside me
the Creator—God—Immanuel

when i am the poet
you become the altar upon which
i rest my pen and paper

don’t be afraid
no matter what happens
do not be afraid
i won’t hurt you
i promise
i promise I will not hurt you

i’m giving birth to new works
i am Mother, open, transparent, vulnerable
i love you. . .
but in a different way

it’s not what you think
(although if you want to go carnal
i will gladly journey with you)

it’s love without boundaries
the conventional rules don’t apply
it’s different
don’t be afraid
you’re my muse, inspiration with a face

when my heart calls your name
it’s because i need you
so I can be who I am

This Just In: Wanna-be Writer Discovers Perseverance Pays Off

Posted in Uncategorized on July 17, 2012 by peace4diane

I did it–I am published! Praising my Saviour all the day long. This accolade came right on time! I’m so Imagehappy–every time I want to complain, I shout out “I’m a published poet!” and a big Kool-Aid smile comes on my face, and I forget what I was thinking of complaining about. .

Click on the links below to see “Wild Horses and In The Room”, and “A Poet’s Gumbo”. Both poems were picked up for publication in Hoosier Writers 2012: A Collection of Poetry and Fiction, Complied and edited by Lowell R. Torres.


Barnes & Nobles Bookstores:

I’d love to hear what you think candidly about the poems. Send a note or comment please.

And please buy the book. It encourages writers and editors everywhere when we support each other.


Serious Memories

Posted in Uncategorized on May 26, 2012 by peace4diane

Being creative is a serious matter and it requires a lot of work and self discipline. Looking over my notes of my writing times this month, I realize that I have not been able to blog at all in May. Shameful–I must write every day and I must attend to the craft and practice. But, rather than brow-beat myself silly, I will instead offer a poem to you, dear reader, for your comments and/or opinion.

It’s memorial day weekend and even though what’s hot is Indiana Pacers, the 500 Mile race and veterans, I’m taking a minute to remember Mother. Thanks for journeying with me.

children; listen when the elders speak

i’m guilty of murdering memories
mother took with her
stories of courage
stories of rage
stories of sacrifice
to the grave

and as i attempt in futility to
resurrect these words
their power is lost;
trapped in the folds of her magnificent hands
what delicate hands
though crippled, gnarled and
once dainty and polite?
hands that held no malice

yet I wielded the knife
laid the blade to the neck
of her memories
when she told me the stories
of poverty
of  faith
of family—I did not listen

each time, i did not with gentleness handle
what was most honorable
about her life
but rather with judgmentality and dismissiveness
slashed and struck at wisdom and experience
with brutality

when i in my short-sighted arrogance
was ready to listen
she was too tired to speak
when it was convenient for me
she was too tired to resurrect her pain
too tired to tell . . .
her stories lie dead on her lips
my advice?
children, listen when the elders speak
remain silent until they are done
ask questions but do not stop there
write down what they say
for the day will come
surely, the day is come
when only their spirits speak
for their tongues lie silent
from assaultive and murderous
ones like me

poetry flairs the nostrils

Posted in Uncategorized on April 29, 2012 by peace4diane

As National Poetry Month winds up, I recommit to writing, having finally reached a place, an oasis where inspiration to write prevails; and write I shall.
Here’s a brief poem I wrote earlier last week. Enjoy.

Too Hard
refuse to look at what isn’t
and focus on what is
ignore the trite and cookie cutter
see the forest and the trees
pass up thoughts of failing
concentrate only on success
disavow the nay-sayers
avoid the distractions and pits
right is what is important
all the rest is left to God

The next time trouble rises, ask yourself:
“Is there anything too hard for God?”
If the answer is ‘yes’, then you handle it.
But, if the answer is ‘no’, then let God handle it.
(Read Genesis 18:14; Jeremiah 32:17; 27)


Consider The Lillies

Posted in Uncategorized on April 8, 2012 by peace4diane
Greylag Geese (Anser anser) in flight Français...

Greylag Geese (Anser anser) in flight Français : Oies cendrées (Anser anser) en vol. Svenska: Flygande grågäss (Anser anser). (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Are other species ambitious, or are humans the only ones who strive for more than who they were created?

Perhaps my greatest failure is not in academics or fashion, parenting or social skills. Perhaps my greatest failure is resisting the nothingness—the mundate trivialness of mere existence.

Although I find myself continually, perpetually drawn to write, which I know I will continue, it is the recognition I crave that I must relinquish. Writing in obscurity is better than not writing at all. Right?

Watching two geese near the gazebo in the Fort Harrison Lawton Loop Post, one sits unflinching in the grass while the partner forages for bugs and whatever is hidden in the grass.  Neither of them have even wanted nor will ever want for money, prestige, success, notoriety, better living conditions, or a college education. Never ever—not once. 

Likewise they do not melt down when these events don’t occur, nor would they celebrate if they did.

I am again reminded that the lilies of the field are beautiful because that’s how God made them, not because they work at being beautiful (Matthew 6:28).

Now as one of the geese has begun to make its way to the water, after a moment or so, the other goose is walking rather quickly toward the water as well; near where the first goose stands. Once they reach the pond bank, they take turns taking drinks. While one drinks, the other is a pseudo look-out.

Now they are afloat, moving with the current of the water—still together.  Occasionally, one of the geese will dip beneath the water’s surface for one of the moist, tasty bites just below the water’s surface. Gracefully, silently they swim, paddling their webbed feet and flapping their wings when necessary.

They bathe where they pee, they pee where they eat, they eat where they play and life is really simple, by design, for both of them. They happily spend their entire lives this way every day; only then, after their play is over, did they leave me to ponder and reflect on their truth, when it was time for them to fly away.

These creatures teach me that I have been writing my story in black ink, instead of pencil or colored chalk or crayons. Where is the beautiful, playful, carefree child? Has she been silenced by the responsible, resourceful adult?