Tag Archives: poetry

Pre-tweet. And repeat.

Who needs 140 characters? For the past couple of months, I’ve been lucky to be included in a weekly Haiku exercise. It’s great to see how the people in this Tuesday group see the world through the simple pattern of 5-7-5.

It’s not like the addiction that is tweeting and Facebook. I mean, really, how much do I really need to know about the small details of people’s days? I don’t even want to share my own. But hey, we all get to choose how we want to share, with whom, and which gory details.

I guess I like that it’s the rules of this particular engagement. It’s weekly. It’s Haiku. And that’s about it. There’s no limit to the maximum number you can submit. One is super. More is good, too.

Just goes to show that using the power of language, with restrictions, can still provide an impactful message. Sure, I get paid to write. But that doesn’t mean I’ll always want to use a bunch of words. Quite the contrary. I believe less can be more when that’s the best/right solution for the communication. But I also don’t believe in the “a picture is worth a thousand words” mentality that some art-directors-who-will-go-nameless want to use.

It’s amazing how much I start thinking of responses in the 5-7-5 rule. Especially as Tuesday approaches and I know I’ll start seeing the weekly contributions from the group. And know that I have my own to share.

Tweet if you want to,
But I’d rather share my world
Through 5-7-5.


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getting in the “mood”

adschoolmeWhen I was at ad school in Atlanta, my mentor in the copywriting program made a great suggestion to help my writing style. Her tip: before starting the ad copy, write a quick letter to a friend. It helps put you in a conversational tone. And I found that it was usually pretty effective.(I’ll even admit, I wrote good letter. Even made myself LOL, only that was WAY before we even had LOL.)

Of course, the natural progression was to evolve from snail mail to e-mail. So as my career progressed, it was easy to fire off a quick electronic note to someone to help put me in the mood.

Next came IM, and the constant connection with people in the next office, or across the pond. It still remains a great conversation starter, and does help keep my tone casual.

Sure, it’s not always appropriate to be casual. And adapting to that style isn’t too difficult.

Today, we have status updates for Facebook and Linkedin, tweets, SMSs, plus the continuation of e-mail and IM. With all this electronic communication, and more time spent “connected” to people you know, and even people you actually know personally (and not just electronically), I find that it becomes more distraction, less motivation for the projects I have going. Almost to the point of quitting all communication programs (e-mail, IM, even the web) just to have a little peace and quiet.

It’s time to go old school. You know, using a writing instrument and (gasp) paper.

My new motivational process, well at least something I’ve done once this week with great results (IMO), was inspired by my dear editorial friend up in Seattle. She suggested a blank piece of paper, a writing utensil, and some actual quiet alone time. The intent is to be in the moment, and find inspiration in my immediate surroundings. Watch, listen, feel, and then capture whatever thoughts bubble up from wherever thoughts come from, and then jot them down in one of the four quadrants I’d drawn on the blank page. There is really no specific purpose of the writing, other than to just be present. But as my brain can do at times, it took it a step farther.

I think this extra curricular brain activity stems from my new desire to write poetry. I’ve been told my ad writing can (at times) be poetic, and seemed like a natural extension. So, once I had captured the four strongest thoughts of the moment, after a little tweaking, I actually turned it into 4 poetic tidbits. It’s still rough. Still a work in progress. But I’m pretty pleased with the overall results.

4 Views of a Fall Afternoon

Wind blows, chimes sing.

Lower tones swaying in the breeze,

High notes answer with another gust.

Reverberation drifts as the calm envelopes.

Silence, broken only by shifts in the atmosphere.

Stirred by the wings of a dove, or perhaps a butterfly.

Born half a continent, or a world away.

Creating mood, creating music.

The dark, dark beauty of longing eyes.

Looking for trust. Assurance. Love.

Big dark pools that reflect joy followed by uncertainty.

From what depths does the fear stem?

Not when, but if it will ever abate.

Find solace reflected in my gaze.

Feel joy from my heart.

Safety is yours for the asking.

Long, luscious green blades

Gently bending, giving way,

But not giving ground.

Flitter. Flutter. Swaying to what music

Is found in the power of Mother Earth.

Warm under the rays of the sun.

Water splashes, giving life.

As hope continues to flow—and grow.

The drone of a single engine.

Where has it been, where is it going?

In the now, does it really matter?

Chase the blue! Dance with the clouds.

So light. So free.

The drone grows louder in the moment,

Then softly slips beyond the horizon,

Leaving nothing but memory in my ear.


Filed under my life in advertising