On Revisions...

For most people, when told to make revisions to a piece that they have written whether it be a peom, a story, an esaay so on and so forth, they make what I call surface changes (i.e grammatical or mechanical changes). For me however, revisions are extensive changes that are applied throughout a piece. If an idea, image, character, or scene need to be developed, re-written, or deleted entirely, I do so; but i can only do so after I have had a few different people read my work. Than and only than, do I make alterations based on the feedback from readers. I find that if I re-read my own work, I do not catch half of the mistakes or changes that need to be made that others do when they read. Revisions are an author's chance to enhance and perfect (and I use that word loosely) a piece of writing.

                                                                                                                           -W.G. Roo

10 Stories from the past 3 days....

1. The time I fell down a flight of stairs and dislocated my hip...
2. How my duck got the name Jorge...
3. My boss is all over the place...
4. I joined a sorority because I lost a bet...
5. My mother and I don't get along because...
6. My niece and nephew...
7. I was walking to class and a girl busted her behind in front of me...
8. Car accident on my way home...
9. Went to Connecticut for a Greek Leadership conference...
10. I was engaged; then I wasn't...

Story Ideas Within My Mind...

1. Young girl runs away from home; after years of her mother's mental, physical and emotional abuse, she packs a backpack of clothes and essentials, and leaves everything behind.


2. 18 year old, college freshmen gets engaged and finds out  a few days later she is pregnant. What to do, what to do?


3. Teen boy gets pulled out of class one day during school, and summoned to the prinicipal's office; he enters the office to find two cops awaiting his arrival. He soon finds out his father has been killed in the line of duty.


4. Stay at home mother of two; work-a-holic father; the youngest of the two children vanishes.


5. Young man loses his job of 15 years; married, father of three, and now unemployed. He is told by some that he is overqualified, told by others that he is underqualified, etc; the weight of it all is bearing down on him;

Poetry Magazine: Published Work

Insincerity
   by: Carla Marie
{ http://www.poetrymag.com/poem.php?id=1563&listtype=1 }

Sweetness is the weapon of choice
Used by you
To lull me
Into complacency,
Sex me
Into assumed feelings,
Titillate me
Into counterfeit impressions

The kind of hurt that your weapon brings
Is the kind of hurt
That ultimately
A fool like me
Cannot even
Cry her way through…

Sweetness is the weapon of choice
Used by you
To sing me
Into Artificial Notions
Affirm me
Into contrived emotions
Tranquilize me
Into false belief

The kind of hurt that your weapon brings
Vacillates between
Insult and indignation
Insult
That you underestimate my intelligence
Indignation
That you continually choose
Hamburger over
Steak
… Metaphorically speaking

Sweetness is the weapon of choice
Used by you
To fool me
With the tenet
That I am a well loved woman

Your sweetness is an effective weapon

For a while…

But your sweetness is insincere

And insincerity

Has no staying power

Food for Thought....

"The role of a writer is not to say
   what we all can say,
   but what we are unable to say"
                    ~Anaïs Nin

Touched by An Angel

 by: Maya Angelou

We, unaccustomed to courage
exiles from delight
live coiled in shells of loneliness
until love leaves its high holy temple
and comes into our sight
to liberate us into life.

Love arrives
and in its train come ecstasies
old memories of pleasure
ancient histories of pain.
Yet if we are bold,
love strikes away the chains of fear
from our souls.

We are weaned from our timidity
In the flush of love's light
we dare be brave
And suddenly we see
that love costs all we are
and will ever be.
Yet it is only love
which sets us free. 

http://mayaangelou.com/

Delectably, Supple You Are to Devour

This is my metered poem, Assignment #2 for anyone who did not receive a hard copy in class

You consume my

every thought;

yearning to 

feel you,

to taste you,

to bask in your

supple glory.

Stiff you are not,

nor rigid are you;

adaptable

to my touch

to any touch.

Flexible,

malleable,

Oh so soft and sweet.

Your sweetness

enticing it is,

mouth-watering

that too it is.

Pleasure comes in 

devouring you;

enough of you

is never enough;

catching every drabble

every dribble;

delectably, supple

you are to 

devour.