Showing posts with label Inspirational. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Inspirational. Show all posts

Thursday, September 17, 2015

How to Hold Off an Idea Until It's Ready


I’d compare holding off an idea to the moment just before the needle pierces the skin in a hospital ward. The recipient is tensed up for the critical impact while the hypo, clasped between the trained fingers of a nurse cuts the air as it makes its way for the disinfected spot. A unique tingle comes over that part of the body as it waits for cold steel, hungry for blood to break skin and introduce its fluid into the bloodstream.

There comes a time when you know you are going to create something: a poem, a song, a story or even a project as tasking as a novel. I’m talking about those times when the idea presents itself to the mind as an impossible-to-make-out image, a piece of incomplete thought and you can’t readily settle on how it’s going to turn out. Here’s what you can to do to prevent yourself from ruining a great idea and end up burnt out.

Keep a Notebook or Sheet of Paper
Scribble bits and pieces of thoughts and phrases which you think have a connection with the idea at hand. You never know which of these nuggets will spark a flame and maybe become the first line of your story/poem. Jot down entire lines and sentences, from your readings if they so much as inspire creative thinking. Sometimes, a snippet from a billboard ad could be the seedbed for your idea.

Keep an Open Mind
Vague as this tip sounds; it is a really important step in cleaning up your mind and ridding it of leftovers from past write-ups. You can actually choke on a good idea while trying to force the pattern of a previous creation on it. Allow the idea free rein for as long as is required for it to ripen.

Play With the Idea
Don’t start the actual writing, yet. But do write it in your mind. Try a free association of the most persistent phrases—those expressions that keep recurring in flashes and seem to be the handle of the overall idea. By doing this you keep from trying to force it and also, get a better grip of the frame of the entire composition, at the same time. Richard Wilbur waited fourteen years while jotting down phrases before he committed his pen to paper to write his poem, The Mind-Reader.

Talk to Yourself
Do it aloud or silently. Talk around the idea; talk about its vagueness, how it squirrels away just before you can wrap your fingers around its essence. Ponder what style of writing it could turn out to be; if it is something fresh and unique or if it’s your regular thing. Brood over the theme (if you’ve figured it out), go deep and feel the weight of the inspiration which presented the idea and try to make yourself at home within it.

Take Long Walks
Here’s one surefire weapon you can use to tackle the edginess that accompanies the waiting period. Shorten the wait with walks and talks, is a saying you ought to give a try. Go on long strolls, if you can find the time and place. Take that time to tinker with the idea, turning it this way and that while you search for the key that unlocks the door and sends you reeling into the heart of your next creation.

Let the Initial Emotion Cool Off
Above all, try not to write in the heat of emotion. You stand a chance of muddling up the waters and scaring away dinner. Your emotions can totally blind you and make everything you write look awesome. A few weeks or months after your so-called spectacular write-up then you reread the work you have so wonderfully created and Ouch! *Palm over face.*
            A good fisherman knows how to tease the fish; when to cast his net; when to reel in his catch; and especially, when to hold off from upsetting the net. Now go and do likewise.

This article is actually a product of waiting. The idea popped into my mind around the month of April while I was doing NaPoWriMo but I kept putting the moment of actual writing off; kept waiting for the idea to blossom and produce fruit. I can’t tell you the thrill wasn’t worth the wait. And that’s the reason I believe that waiting is a game to the trained mind. Waiting is a writer’s game.

Keep your pens bleeding!

Akpan



Tuesday, January 20, 2015

10 Martin Luther King Quotes to Live By


Martin Luther King Jr. is without question one of the greatest men who ever trod this guilty sod, just saying. There's no one who can argue this great legend's words continue to inspire the race of man decades after his passing on.

I have picked just ten of his most powerful quotes for your reading pleasure and to especially, brighten and add the needed boost to any achiever's day.





















































































Hope I made your day a lot brighter and I expect you found the courage to give that challenge one more push.

Keep your pens bleeding.

Akpan


Sunday, April 21, 2013

Day 21: 1,000 Walls

Photo: daytobeyou.com
1,000 walls
Complected and aligned side to side
Could not cripple my intellectual function,
Neither flush the fire in my fight.
I am a rage, who is hyperventilating,
My dream is a doped up athlete that’s a-running.

My path is flooded with everlasting light.
Like a river overflowing its bank,
Plus, there is no ebb in my tide.
I set my radar and even if it be on a plank
I will make it to the other side,
I’m crossing over the deluge of impossibilities.

Then I will morph my solitary fantasy
Into a million stunning realities.
Persecuted to perfection,
Emancipated from soul corruption,
My faculty is alienated from random contradiction.
I have been ransomed by the challenges I’ve gone through;

Redeemed from the clutches of mortal damage
To be reinvented from raw stuff with brand new tissue.
My entire system illuminated, my senses engaged.
Fervor mutating from fear,
Uncertainty conceiving courage to dare,
Fading luster, daunted hopes, stunted faith,

And pain magnified, all worked in mysterious ways
To resurrect a phoenix from his pile of ashes.
A special delivery from emissaries of grace
Distributing sheaves of goodness in deliberate flashes.
I am tomorrow’s today,
What else could I say?

I produce a shine that blinds the sun;
I am a hereafter that exhales through an offed past;
I am like the weed which develops buds to blossom
Roses straight out from a concrete’s crack.
I am a cool cup of water in scorching heat;
I am a practical phenom who defies analytic thinking.

I am like a moment of bliss that keeps up unceasing;
I am rage engulfed by passion;
I am a raw, deep emotion.
I am originality walking, breathing in the flesh of man
This is who I am,
It is all I could ever hope to be or have.



Akpan


Tuesday, April 2, 2013

Day 2: With This

Photo: tmerril.blogs.com

                                          Inspired by MLK

N’ with this faith,
Ama print my name
On the pages of history.
This faith calls me to take a stand.

N’ with this faith,
I arm myself with wit to withstand.
I shall not be victimized by circumstance.
I believe in the power of a dream
As this faith speaks peace.

N’ with this faith,
Humanity will remember my name
N’ declaim my fame in every age.
N’ with this faith,
I am a god in a shrine;
Ain’t nothing can stub my shine.

N’ with this faith,
I maintain my space;
Those who desire to reach and keep their place
On the mountaintop must take the hard way.
With this faith,
I am walking through the fire
And I’m coming out hard-boiled;
With this faith,
I strike water in the Sahara
N’ if I consume poison, I shall be reborn.

With this faith,
I exalt the treasures of blackness,
A geyser of enthusiasm, I reach for greatness.
N’ with this faith,
I will achieve the impossible,
Prove myself formidable
‘Cause I am untouchable.

With this faith,
I shall stymie the inevitable,
As I perform the incredible.
With this faith,
These eyes shall anticipate the invisible.
With this faith,
I walk into tomorrow
Wielding the nerve of a hero.

N’ with this faith,
I topple titans
With a sling and a stone.
N’ with this lil’ ebony light of mine
I’m a set the world on fire
As I let it shine.

N’ with this faith,
This also shall come to pass,
For this faith within is an organic compass.
N’ with this faith,
I clean the clock of unnumbered foes.
With this faith,
Tomorrow is this close;
With this faith,
I hold destiny in the palm of my hand;
I am the perfection of God’s master-plan.

N’ with this faith,
I intend to put the world on ice;
With this faith,
Still I rise.

I am the future,
I am a masterpiece of Mother Nature.

N’ with this faith,
I print my name on the walls of this terrestrial globe,
Somebody get me my robe
‘Cause with this faith,
I rule the world.

N’ with this faith…



Akpan





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Friday, January 11, 2013

Grub

This poem is about a character struggling with his inner critic; that negative voice that tries to seduce us all to the down side. And guilt-trip us with thoughts that we can't make it through the storm. He wins the battle and the poem's about his victory.


Photo credit: marvinleblanc.com

          He said I couldn't make it,
          He said he was me and he's weak.
          But he was wrong,
          Trying to seduce me to grub.
          
          Watch me step on a pedestal and feel the storm cease;
          I am the lyric of the silence of the seas.
          I'm fly on the side, I'll get mine, if you please.
          Step up to a fight and not back down on my knees.
          The winds oppose me but my faith ain't my feelings.
          My mind roars with panic still ama rake in the winnings.
          No tripping. I'm repping new beginnings
          I steer my course on the strength of immutable things.
          
          He said I couldn't make it,
          He said he was me and he's weak.
          But oh, boy was he wrong,
          Trying to seduce me to grub.
          
          I know all about losses; I know the pain that gives on gain,
          And when I chance that river, things ain't gon' be the same.
          I hear your voices but it only makes me wanta breathe again.
          Thoughts can't pull me down unless I consent to the bargain.
          I lift up my head and savor the freshness of the rain
          And dance into a strong morning light that calms my strain.
          You know joy when you see it, can't kill it. It can't be feigned.
          So, hear me say ama get it. Heed. Cause my eyes are trained.
          
          He said I couldn't make it,
          Inner critic said he's me and he's weak.
          But oh, boy was he wrong, (cause I'm strong)
          Trying to seduce me to grub.
          
          
          
          Akpan
          







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Wednesday, January 9, 2013

Things We Lost In The Fire

A Poetic Essay
Photo: colourbox.com
We grope in darkness and call out for light only to get answered by strife.

It's not unheard of old aches returning to taunt fairly healed scars. Sometimes, Fate could be that absurd. But that's just the way it is, lifting the songwriter's words.

History cannot be unlived. But if faced with courage needs not be relived again. - Maya Angelou.
     And it's been said, the past makes us what we are. (I think I heard that in a Jet Li flick) But how do we erase the marks of the scar?

Mistakes are the bane of our existence and extremely unavoidable. Still, the greatest glory in living is not in never falling but in rising every time we fall. - Mandela

A dream deferred could provoke the greatest pain ever discovered especially, a dream rooted in the most sensitive spot in your heart. The adversities that engage us and almost rip us apart beyond repair hold within 'em the seed of our ressurection.

It's impossible not to feel injured when all you hoped to achieve shipwreck inches from the shoreline.

Some come out of the fire, squeak and clean, others just crash and burn still, some step out unscathed but lose everything they invested an entire life to build to the fire.

The pains uncovered are the footprints of unfulfilled dreams; the agonies of darkness visible; the frustrating emptiness of might-have-beens.
     We grasp for a reality that blurs into fantasy before our very eyes; to substance swallowed up within a shadow and step out to face the days of our lives in defeat. At this point, the soul is deprived of every single reason to wrestle annihilation. Time crawls, eternity speeds along and life through your bloodshot eyes is a blur of rage.

We are made to concede defeat; made aware that some of the stuff we lost will never be regained-a loved one, opportunity to go to college, friendship that never was and prospects that fizzled away on the fringes of dawn. But the glory of life is not in recapping a trove of hurtful memories but in purifying them to the point that they act as catalysts to personal excellence.

Life, living, must be perceived as one constant sacrifice. And that gives the impression that at some stages in life one must be willing to let go of something, (precious, yes! But that's the point of sacrifices, isn't it?) to offer up something in the game of life.

Things that we lost to the fires of desire often help us, drive us to the limits of our genius. And concealed in the disguise of pain are the blessings of sacrifice!



Akpan






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Wednesday, October 20, 2010

Bestseller



How many a writer perch at a desk
By a window looking over nameless shrubs
And struggle to squeeze out a sentence off his sweat,
While nursing birth pangs of a plot.
He wouldn't believe it for a second if I tell him
That in the acts sown seamlessly into the scenes
Is the subtle unfolding of my becoming.
Do you marvel when you glimpse my glory?
Could it possibly be you do not know my story?
I hide in the moments that take your breath away,
Like a plume of whisper riding the alpine echo,
I am a best-selling story.
                       
Perhaps, you have witnessed my daily walk,
Or maybe, ya'll heard the simpleness of my talk.
Yet, know not an inkling about the myself of me.
Let me put you through with an allegory:
I am a pick of poetry spotlighting a piece of plain prose,
Like a wink of sunshine busting on a thousand prairies.
I strive for the fullness of an exceptional life:
I'm a million tiny drops building up a tide.
You would never know for sure what you're missing,
Until you look me up on the bestseller list.
Anonymous, unknown and unbeknownst to you,
I am a million-copy best-selling story.
                       
When I exhale it's a unique story,
Challenges are my entourage to the threshold of HIStory.
Skim through your newest writing project,
What you see between the storyline are prospects
Of an ordinary me living lavishly legendary,
Still standing strong in one beautiful black body.
Posterity mines the archives to glean my magic,
And witness there ain't nobody betters my story,
That the life I live today is for real
And endures like bite marks on fossil.
Eternally, I am rebirth splintering husks of sun baked
raisins,
I am a best-selling story.
                       
                       
Eneh
                       
                        

Monday, October 11, 2010

What Success Is




This article was formerly titled, Success is Liking Yourself. I kind of thought this title more self explanatory so I used it. It’s still the same story and hopefully the title might help you view it in a greater, broader light. (If you happen to be one of the ones who have read this before.)


How many times have you heard people measure wealth by the ability to come up with some stack? Okay, lose the flowery language. How many times has anybody around you or you at that, evaluated your worth by the size of your pocket? Does money really have a role to play in the process? Of course, you can succeed in making money but does that make you, the money maker a success story?

Life, we will find out is a blend of processes that makes a demand on our courage at every turn. Who we are is called upon to take on challenges or face consequences if we don’t measure up. We could achieve a college degree, afford a drop top or come up with enough dough to buy the town and the maturing of the inner mystery is not accomplished during the course of achieving and we turn out the worse for it, eventually.

‘Success is liking yourself, liking what you do, and liking how you do it’ - Maya Angelou

We grow in degrees and through the different levels of progress; we come to agreement with the reality of who we really are. The things that make life worthwhile, the ingredients that bring quality to day-to-day living are the minuscule million, simple moments that present us with needful things which are vehicles of growth. All the same, the effects of the material without the development of the individual housed on our insides are for the most part, distractions which slowly but surely stifle the stages of inward progress.

It’s you, it is not the money. You, not the thousand and one material things you achieve. It is you, not your stories. Liking yourself, what you do, and the style you bring to it.

And until we accept this as reality and nothing less, our real selves, the children inside every one of us will remain naïve, timid and shamelessly ignorant of a more splendid alternative.


Akpan

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