Happy New Year

    With the New Year right around the corner, it’s quite obvious that the prominent thoughts are resolutions. And I have a doozy of a list. Namely, sticking to that diet I’ve been meaning to start, since I was fourteen. You know the one: miracle diet that makes you shed pounds in weeks, and sculpts you to perfection without ever lifting a finger, except to place another slice of chocolate past the lips.

    But all joking aside, this new year means I’ll be one year closer to thirty, so perhaps getting on the health bandwagon soon could mean I’ll be around to enjoy my friends and family much longer. (But who knows, they’re all off doing naughty things themselves.)

Mary Gonzalez's Facebook profile

    Perhaps this is the year that brings me closer to my dream. (Forgive me if this is too ‘sappy’ for you.) When 2009 started, I had no intention or idea of blogging, and did not know about the wonderful world of support out there. For someone who’s always said “I want to be a writer”, it’s getting easier by the week to say “I am a writer”. All those notes and paragraphs and sentences I jotted down, and the poems I wrote, they now mean something.

    Small, baby steps – leading me ever onward – and for someone who didn’t even know how to get the word out, it’s overwhelming to have met people in the know, people who can lead in the right direction. Overwhelming, but great.

    So, now it’s time to buckle down. It is high time to make something good happen, for all the believers, but most of all for myself. I guess my ultimate resolution is to get busy with THE BOOK!! Not to worry, anecdotes and short stories shall abound online! But that book that’s been festering for so long seems to be knock-knock-knocking, ready to get out once and for all.

    I love to share my old, and sometimes silly forays into early writing, so to cap off this old year, here’s an oldie (and yes, part of the new resolution means putting it out there, as embarrassing as it is):

Rape the Sea – 2001         (see, even then, I was dark)

I could paint a mural on its walls
And disgrace its wanton beauty
I could drink its spray         (ew, really?)
And in a drunken stupor,
Violate its purity

It could crash into my bones
Grind them to powder,
But my pain will be no match
For its fierce beauty

I could haunt its spirit with my longing
I could study its life course         (hmmm…not so sure what I meant entirely)
Calmly eye its pounding muscles
Scared, not of its strength
But of its seeming fragility

Yet, I could not face death in its embrace
Yet, I could not bear to be within its folds
Yet, I could not stand to hear her roar forever
Yet, I could not

Happy Reading in the New Year!!           

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