Summer Mayhem, Summer Poems

It’s been an unusual summer.

Unexpected expenses come up, and there’s a lot to be done – but only 24 hours in a day; too few to be worrying about things, though the worry likes to creep in anyway. Sound like anyone else? I’ glad I’m not the only one – whew! 😉

I am altering my path again to give myself more opportunities for employment, as well as have the money to continue funding our business. No one said it would be easy but at this point, I’m still ok with that. Should everything pan out, I will be back to earning some dinero more this Fall.


So IF all goes planned, I will be enrolling in training this fall and blogging about how that goes. I will continue building my vector skills for making apps for Android and Apple, keep writing poetry for my ebook, and blogging about whatever other topics seems interesting at that time. I’m sure a little bit of that time will include Diablo 3 and Minecraft – ya know, as a stress reliever ^_^.


Although this is not a place for critique of poetry, I want to share some of the poems I’ve been working on this summer as I’ve been dealing with my own summer mayhem. I am sure scores of you have had to deal your own summer mayhem – if so, I wish you well on finding an outlet to express it as well!

Thanks and take care of yourselves! ❤




Break from Tutorial – Poetry & Publishing Detour

Decided to take a break from working on the Inkscape tutorial as I’ve been fighting a deliciously annoying migraine these last few days.

Been a while since I posted any poetry here, so I’ll post a few recent ones at the bottom.

I’m not really sure how much of my work I should be posting online though (I post most of mine on DeviantArt) – I’ve heard conflicting opinions on how much you should display publicly if you plan to publish anything in the future. Anyone have any experience with this?

I’ve been engrossing myself if learning about the self-publishing process after reading a blog written several months ago by James Altucher called “Why Every Entrepreneur Should Self-Publish a Book”.

Altucher’s blog got me started on researching options, % royalties depending on which sites you choose to self-publish through, and other publishing guides. Some of which I found interesting are posted below:

(lol – yes, I really did read all of these – best to get a lot of different sources of info/opinions/experiences before you ‘go for the gold’ i.m.o) 

Although I am neither a trained author or poet, artist, or entrepreneur, I started to think, “hey, this is something I can do that will allow me to personally fulfill a goal, gain legitimacy as a published author, learn more about the kindle device and publishing, amazon/creatspace, smashwords, etc.

As a bonus, since funds are limited for us at this time, if I ever could make a dollar at publishing a poetry book, then it was at least worth the attempt and the experience gained from it. Naturally, as my husband is quite the gabber when it comes to talking, blogging, and being active on bulletin boards and forums, I suggested that he might want to save his posts and tech rants and publish a small book himself.

I think another side bonus to self-publishing is content generation, which may help drive site traffic to our company site, blogs, fb, google play site, etc. Any way that we can drive SEO (search engine optimization) and SEM (search engine marketing) might just help us get the word out about what we do and what we sell (hopefully not coming across as just another spammer though – ick!).

*Android Developer KreCi did this by publishing a small how-to guide for Android developers on Amazon, on top of blogging about his process, monthly and annual income reports, and thoughts on using ad revenue generating tools such as Leadbolt.

*Fantastic information that really helped us with planning and making some decisions about our next steps. If you are a smartphone app developer just getting started, I would recommend reading his blog and reading about other people’s experiences and reports.


I haven’t quite got so far as to actually put a book together – just assembling an old-and-new collection of poems to see if I have got enough relevant material to work with that I think might be ‘self-publishing material’.  It will likely be some time before I muster up the courage to go for it, but for now, I’m intrigued enough to TRY.

Plus, it’s kind of a nice break from working directly on our business, and helps keep me sane! ❤

When that time comes, I’ll do my best to document what decisions I make, why, and the resulting outcomes (income reports, if any – lol!),  and let you other self-publishing hopefuls (perhaps as timid as I?) decide what path you want to choose.

Thanks and good luck to you too!


Morning Morner

Traci’s Current

Fort Omaha NB


Found this old piece I wrote during a music appreciation class in 2008. Without giving too much description of the sounds themselves, I wanted to describe a scene – or rather, an event which took place over a period of 7 weeks – attempting to summarize memories with quantifiable information.

Kinda strange re-reading old forgotten works – perhaps it’s b/c my memory isn’t that great – or perhaps I have changed in a way that makes it difficult to recognize my own thoughts on paper!

Well, whatever it is, it’s been fun digging through the old scribblings and finishing them! XD



60 pairs of boots scramble into place on the linoleum.
Echoes of angry voices bounce off of walls.
Second hand of a wall clock ticks heavily and slowly.
Angry voices chase 60 pairs of feet up metal trimmed steps.
Sirens sound every hour, fading in and fading away.
Small intercom blares Taps.
60 are nervously trembling.
Light switch clicks off.

Sheets and wool blankets rustle.
Hung canteens rattle painted steel frames.
Half of 60 plastic torches click on and off for several minutes.
Metal lockers and drawers creak and slam.
Bare feet tiptoe back to bed.
Writing utensils scribble feverishly, crinkling the loose paper on pillows.
One hour later it is quiet again.
The air conditioning kicks on, like silverware rattling in a box.
Another hour – early birds chirp sweetly.
Another hour – roaring sirens.
Another hour – Reveille plays on the ‘giant voice’.
Light clicks on.

60 are startled by heavy boots stomping up the metal trimmed stairs.
Muffled yelling through the door becomes louder and louder.
60 pairs of bare feet hit the cold linoleum floor.
60 toothbrushes scrape across teeth.
8 shower heads squeak while turned on; water splashing against cracked tiles.
11 toilets flush over and over again.
2 are pounding on the steel door,
Shouting at 60 to hurry up.
60 run to lockers – clothing rustles around hungry bodies.
Sound of old door hinge lets in the muffled angry voices, now clear and strong.
All else is inaudible for 15 minutes.

At least 5 are crying hysterically at any given moment.
The zip of hard laces through metal hooks follow.
60 pairs of boots tromp and trip downstairs, chased by the 2 angry voices.
Outside, small raindrops fall steadily on the metal and concrete roof.
60 march away on the asphalt, disappearing into the mist-lain fog.
The cycle repeats daily for 7 weeks, until the final Reveille…

60 warm coins drop into in front-left pockets.

All sixty of us sigh in unison.

PMOaka Ponix7/Pepperonymous
(original: 1May2008; updated: 21Feb2012)

(also posted at: [link]

Missing Stranger

For my father, who passed away on Father’s Day, June 17, 2007 at 44 years old.

I wrote this poem months later in order to sort through my feelings about his life and death, his absence from my own life, and general confusion about how I was supposed to feel and what I should and should not do.

Today, the memories of him are all good ones . 🙂

Missing Stranger

Oh, how I searched for you,
familiar stranger,
for you captivated my heart
years ago.Oh, how it still cries for you,
sweet stranger,
reacting to fuzzy images I can’t
let go.

Oh, how angry you made me,
foolish stranger,
as I tried to make you

Oh, how lonely you must have been,
timid stranger,
for you could never reached out
your hand.

Oh, how I longed to call for you,
distant stranger,
as you let others take
your place.

Oh, how my guilted soul questions,
elusive stranger,
if too soon I gave up
the chase.

Oh, if you could feel my heart,
misguided stranger,
you’d feel only love beyond
its door.

Oh, if you could hear me,
wandering stranger,
I would call you “Daddy”
once more.

Oh, what a painful memory,
slumbering stranger,
when you passed on the ‘day
of Fathers’.

Oh, how I wish for your happiness,
eternal stranger,
and that you will one day call me

March 17, 2008

The Power is out in Bellevue

Exploring styles again. This time, in the style of Dylan Thomas.

Also – true story! ^_^

The Power is out in Bellevue

The power is out in the Bellevue today
All things electronic are a blunder
No more computer games for you to play.

The sirens roar in a high pitched way,
When the lightning strikes before thunder;
The power is out in Bellevue today.

You glance out at the sky – dark gray,
Armed with a mouse and time to wonder…
-No more computer games for you to play.

Hail pings off of cars to your dismay
Your plans for the day, now torn asunder
The power is out in Bellevue today.

Oh, so desperately hoping for the sun’s ray,
Your patience begins to buckle under
No more computer games for you to play.

But you failed to ‘save’ so you must pay,
Can’t blame the lightning’s successful plunder.
The power is out in Bellevue today.
No more games for you to play.

by P.M.O./Ponix7

 Link: DeviantArt

Letting Go

Attempt at a poem with a similar style and format as another poem by Nancy Willard. I think I was having some trouble with syntax here, but decided to leave it alone for now.

Letting Go

When the small child cried on the beach
and her tears turned into the ocean
and her hair turned into the seaweed,
she was taken by the churning waves
which my thoughts brought forth blackened clouds
which my fears brought forth rolling thunder

which my exhale brought forth glimpses of sunlight
when I heard an echo of laughter
when I awoke upon the sand.



Pair of sad, lonely, and confused brothers back home in AZ – for so long I wished I could help them, until I realized that sometimes the best thing one can do to help another is just to let them be.

I have no doubt that someday they will find their way 🙂


by ~Ponix7

There stands the long shadows of two men –
similar stature
similar appearance.
Trace the top of their shadows to see whose feet
they cling to…
Your eyes do not deceive –
they are the prepubescent feet of young boys.

How do they bear the shadow of ‘man’
whom stand so tall against the setting sun?
Two puddles of muddy gray
side by side;
Two boys – brothers
stand solemnly,
side by side.
They, too, a deep, muddy shade of gray,
whom seem to be yearning
for something…

or perhaps –
someone who will come with sticks and grass
and an earthen palette.
Someone who will come
to fill in their muddy gray bodies,
their ever-stretched, dreary shadows;
who shall paint them and paint them
until even their souls are saturated…

Who will rise to fulfill their wish?

You cannot.
I cannot.
if we could reach them –
to give them their own brushes and palettes,
then they,
may choose to paint themselves into the men they wish to be
and resolve the emptiness and sorrow
of the child inside of each.

31 May 2010

(This one also located at:

The Aging Italian

The Aging Italian

The aging Italian

finds time for a jig,

and celebrates with

energetic limbs like twigs.

Although his students

snicker and jeer,

he chuckles, ‘they won’t

understand for many years’.

So he dances and smiles

for the joy of being alive-

not to waste a moment

to bounce and jive.

23 January 2008


Hola! Again!

I decided that I should try to get my ‘blog on’ and write something again. I’ve been feeling a bit of a block with writing in general, so I’m hoping to reinvigorate myself by forcing myself to get back on task before procrastination becomes a convenient excuse not to do anything.

Poetry is a passion of mine, though I have no formal training. I don’t claim to be the shizzle, but I do think that poetry is a fun way to pull thoughts and feelings outside of oneself – for the sake of both pure expression and learning about “us” – people, places, cultures, idealogies, objects, and all things that the mind can conjure up.

I’ll include a random sampling of poems I’ve written over the years – some common themes range from happy times, to humor and mischief, to sadness, and ’emo’ before the emo was cool (lol – or existed).

My other poems may be found at: under the pen name PMO or Ponix7.

Thanks and enjoy! 🙂