Fog Over My House And My Brain: A Poem and What I’ve Been Doing

Fog and Me

I’ve been everywhere with fog.

It creeps up behind me like a

playful jaguar and pounces,

wrapping around me and tugging to pull

my spirit out by the arm and take me along.

Riding in, upon, and beside her,

perched on top and holding misty reigns or

flying next to her and exploring.

One creature here,

existing in another dimension so that

even though she appears blocked or broken

she is everywhere.

Playful, alone,

it’s always just fog and me.

Looking at each other,

whether she’s embodied in the foghorn,

her voice to her silence in creeping up to envelop,

or in angry blue rain clouds high away from me,

too mad to socialize,

it’s like we share a secret,

just fog and me.

She’s my BFF and sister,

always there and waiting

for that simple understanding of the other’s feelings,

always,

no matter what and even though

we can’t comprehend each other’s shape;

to each, the other “isn’t physical”, “isn’t real”.

And she can be he too,

secret love–

it’s confusing when your BFF girlfriend is also

your boyfriend,

isn’t it?

Oh, sorry, I forgot that

you wouldn’t know.

You see fog?

Hmm, well,

you know, I see fog too,

but I’m sure that she no esta as they say in Spanish,

genderless third person,

no she’s not what you think.

Because fog and I are on the best of terms,

we’ve been everywhere, are everywhere, together.

Sometimes me in her, sharing her world

of rolling mist and shapes that do not restrict her,

sometimes she in me, sharing mine,

of solid things that do restrict me.

Whichever, it’s as

it’s been always:

fog and me,

me, and fog.

 Writing about my fog is really quite my thing. I have maybe five to ten poems about just fog, so when a friend of mine gave me the prompt, “choose something you write about a lot and write about it in a way you’ve never done before”, it was hard to find a way to look at fog that I haven’t before. Well, it turned out that this was the perfect poem. A couple of times I’ve tried to capture this idea that it’s just me and fog, but I’ve always failed to find the right words to describe it. Those of you reading this who are writers probably understand this. For those who aren’t, getting the words right is the hardest part of being a writer.

Speaking of writing, I’m sure that you aforementioned writer-readers have been wondering if I took part in NaNoWriMo this year, since I’m a writer and all. “What the heck is nano-reamer?” you might be wondering. The easy answer? National Novel Writing Month, all of November, where participants spend all thirty days writing 50,000 words. The more difficult answer? Seven hundred and twenty hours of writing mayhem composed of writer’s block, struggle with word count, and lots and lots of Red Bull (or highly caffeinated coffee, take your pick) I actually did step up to bat to face this challenge and came away with a half-inch thick manuscript (missing the final scene, of course) hefting fifty thousand words, rounded down by a little. The insanity of it all was overwhelming! Trying to hit one thousand six hundred words a day? Sometimes it was easy, but most of the time it was nigh impossible. Daily as my progress was charted on the website (they use a nice regular slope to show how many words you should get in each day) I was constantly going under and struggled to stay within the same ten thousand words. During Sunday nights I would race forward in my Maserati in the shape of random scenes and inexplicable conversation to beat the day’s tally by three or four thousand words, but during the week I’d stall again. Until…I somehow linked together my scenes (mind you, I wrote in a patchwork and sewed it together roughly with hemp) and powered through to the end. I would like to thank the writing prompts on the website…the prompt “Include some serious conflict due to a cinnamon roll…” really helped me add two or three thousand words to my novel.

I hope you non-writers aren’t falling asleep back there. The good news for all is that my life is back again (even though it’s mid-December. I’ve been working on editing my novel) and I will have somewhat more time to spend writing blog posts rather than a book.

And now I salute you with honor and dignity and inform you that the rainbow unicorn-ponies have sent their best and wish you a merry Christmas and happy Hanukkah full of joy and friendship.

–Aidyl (and the rainbow ponies)

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