poem, Poetry, writer

Monastic Dreams

Monastic dreams

concealed love

there in the solace

an intricately inscribed quill.

©️Jay Mora-Shihadeh

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poem, Poetry, writer

“Under the Lotus Moon”


Love is to the spirit

what a moon beam is to the night

A smile so bright 

darkness hides under a rock

defeated by the brilliance

of the white-hot light

dancing on the stars

staying awake all night


darkness runs

to the corners of the earth

escaping the wrath

of its’ competitors heart


Love is to the spirit

what a moon beam is to the night

reflections of galaxies

upon the oceans bright

mirrors of adoration

adorning faces despite

the darkness that challenges

loves white-hot light.


Art and Poetry by, Jay Mora-Shihadeh

© Jay Mora-Shihadeh

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book review, Poetry, writer

Poetry For Sleepless Nights

I’ve had many a night duking it out with my bed. Insomnia is a problem for many of us, especially creatives. Often, I turn to the ‘tried and true’ Book for calming my mind and seducing me to slumber. The blue light from my iPhone keeps me awake, so I prefer to go back to basics with an old-fashioned book.

Poetry is a great choice for perusing, as our minds are the most creative in the wee hours.

I have several poetry books to choose from, however, this is one of my favorites: Acquainted with The Night, Insomnia poems.

Edited by Lisa Russ Spaar and published by Columbia University Press

This is a fine, did I say fine, collection of some sweet-little-gems by some FANTASTIC Poets. Some of them well-known and some a bit more obscure (well, at least to mwah)

Inspired by this little book, I penned this poem in the throes of my sleepless agony one night, or shall I say one morning!

Insomnia

My heart is racing, tap

tap, tapping on the moon

this night is a bore

the quiet stillness

I abhor

forget the blinds

up in the sky, pull-

pull them down

around, around

silly night, you cannot serenade me

seducing me into your spell

I fell-

I fell into my mind

to forget to sleep in time, not mine.

Forever, ’til the end

only this silliness

to contend

around, around

forever and more

the quiet stillness

I abhor.

©Jay Mora-Shihadeh

 

Here’s a list of some of the Poets who reside under the covers of this sweet little book.

  1. Elizabeth Bishop
  2. Joyce Carol Oates
  3. Dana Gioia
  4. Charles Simic
  5. William Shakespeare
  6. Umberto Saba
  7. King Tran Thai-Tong
  8. Emily Dickinson
  9. Robert Frost
  10. Walt Whitman

 

Jay’s Poetry Pick available on Amazon 

Click image to purchase

 

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Career, Reblogs, writer, writing

Freelance Writer vs Blogger

I lean towards blogger but also want to write and learn this craft as much as possible. I am a mix.

MiddleMe

Due to the rising work of LadyRedot.com and MiddleMe.net, I have no choice but to recruit freelance writers for LadyRedot’s travel articles.

As I interviewed some of the freelancers, I noticed that there is a great disparity between a writer and a blogger. Leave professionalism aside, I have encountered both noobs and experienced writers and bloggers. Many whom I realised that they don’t know the differences between these two: freelance writer and blogger. I’m no expert here but I’ve engaged enough clients and freelancers to perhaps throw some light to the differences.

quill-175980_960_720

Content
As a freelance writer, you will probably write in different genres. The popular genres you will touch on are romance, mystery, adventure and mystical. However, there are other genres that widely sought after in the commercial market such as advert writing, IT articles, eCommerce descriptions, SEO write ups, rewording, thesis and biography. 

As a blogger, you…

View original post 551 more words

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Poetry, writer

WORDS

write words

Photo by Ylanite Koppens from Pexels

Words

spill onto the page

with fluid abandon

 

Reaching

grappling

touching

delicate impressions

 

Shaping

smoothing over

astute interactions

 

Sculpting images

that emerge

unexplained yet

graceful

 

Suffering

knowing

 

you are almost there

 

Always.

 

©Jay Mora-Shihadeh

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Cartoon drawing of fear and panic
abundance, art as therapy, Artist, clarity, Psychology, writer

Fear and Panic are the Enemy!

Don’t Panic, Instead, Live a Life of Truth, Clarity and Calm – and Abundance Will Prevail.

I believe in the cliche’, if you build it they will come — gasping? I know…wretched, but true. I believe in this overused term, of course, until my own panic sets in and fear leeches into my psyche!

I battle this most everyday. Artists and writers everywhere face this demon.

I recall one of my favorite cartoon characters, The Great Gazoo from The Flintstones. Gazoo represents this emotional, spiritual, crises of the conscience. A little space alien, appears above Fred’s shoulder. He’s lecturing him on — what’s right and wrong/good and evil — evoking fear and panic in Fred’s mind, playing upon his guilty conscience.

Abundance comes in many forms. One thing is certain, if you panic, abundance becomes restricted, delayed, suppressed. If you start the day with clarity of purpose and faith in your ability to remain calm, things begin to manifest. Abundance presents — not as money (however, it can and many times does) but as flow.

What is Flow?

It is the excitement and expectation that what you create today is good, purposeful, beautiful, delicious, charming, in fact —  it’s great!

Haven’t you had this experience?

When you paint, write, sing, cook and everything you create is amazing!

That’s flow –that’s abundance — that’s money!

Photo by David McBee from Pexels

100-abundance-achievement-730564.jpg

Abundance shows up as a peaceful knowing that your spirit is free. Creativity is purpose and innovation. You will have gratitude for your clarity, joy in your creation — that’s the ultimate reward!

When the juices are flowing you feel the most alive. I do.

Panic, worry, doubt and fear — these feelings present as a spiritual crises of your soul. Your flow stops, sputters, chokes, and your creativity/abundance — stifled.

These feelings happen to me on a regular basis. Anxiety sets in — am I wrong? Should I, would I, could I? — blah, blah, blah. This is the look on Fred Flintstones face, the anxiety and panic. He thinks, am I making good decisions? Struggling to regain his sense of clarity, his sense of spiritual truth.

Truth is… making art/writing/being creative, sets my personal point of reference back ‘True North’. I wrestle with my anxiety by creating my art. If I surrender to the flow, the spirit, the force, the magic — however you want to label it — abundance prevails. Making art/writing/being creative, has been the ‘set point’ in my life. Without this clarity, this purpose, I would fail miserably in life.

I struggle with this strange notion that if I’m not working a job, bringing in lots of money, then, what I do isn’t legitimate. After all, society perpetuates and rewards this ideology. This truth has been hard to digest at times. However, by seeking calm and clarity (and most important) by keep building and tending to the garden of my creativity — I know the fruits of my flow is the reward. 

Like Fred, The Great Gazoo is with me. As good spiritual leaders do (okay, okay he’s a cartoon character) but I like him, whatever it takes… Gazoo is with me, helping me to find clarity, calm and truth. I won’t surrender to panic and fear, rather, I will use it to forge a path to greatness, a path to abundance.

Photo by Frans Van Heerden from Pexelscolorful-colourful-outdoors-830829.jpg

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Memories, Poetry, writer

Here I Stand On Torrid Land

 

Torrid land

Photo by FAICAL Zaramod from Pexel

here i stand on torrid land

my spirit wandering the dusty sand

of fig trees, khubz (bread) and floured hands

i stand just

foot driven deep

in the earth’s crust

sure-footed grip of rocks and mortar

my soul ripped in two

by grief’s torture

small hands grasped lightly

by the remembrance of her

soft dough-baked grip of salt, of land

ancient yet present her cherub eyes danced

table-side love she spoon-fed her clan

with grape leaves and olives

and (not so dainty) meat pastries

prepared from the vines toiled by cede’s hand

his backyard bounty, his dreams — their dreams

of their homeland and my dreams of

hot cement days and barefooted children

pretending the dawali (stuffed grape leaves) are stacks of cigars

stuffed, rolled, stacked high on big plates

the dawali grows high

creating bigger heaps of make-believe

fun time with cousins

longing for the smells of dusty left behind relics

that bespeak of them, their belongings

the hookah, the 8 track tapes belting out loud arabic music

the robe and headscarf my grandfather wore

in ramallah, the curious one that later became a halloween costume

worn by a childhood friend

and that old oriental rug beaten by history

splayed across the living-room floor, adding an air of the exotic

to their mundane – colonial – suburban sofa

the lamb and garlic stained air smelt early at daybreak

seemed always there lingering about

oiled hot pots full brimming with tomato broth baths

and grown ups lamenting the evening news, the war, the fight

for the return of their land, usurped by foreign man

those that had suffered atrocities of their own

have turned ugly heaping nails, spitting bulldozers

claiming god has promised this to them

easily they slipped between tongues

english and arabic at once

they were here/there simultaneously

they had created a new language, one easily understood by us

and me, absorbing all this with my round brown eyes

unaware of my future task

silently inhaling the smoke of my

family’s lingering rage, the kind of rage

that clings to the walls, to the curtains, to the furniture, to me

to my stuffed pink panther

the one i loved so much for its unique shape and color

the color of bubble gum and pink lemonade — but the rage!  

the rage had to be scrubbed off the walls, scrubbed off the furniture

scrubbed off my clothes, scrubbed, scrubbed, scrubbed!

and i –  inherited this task unknowingly.

© [Jay Mora-Shihadeh] and [thepainterspalate.wordpress.com], [2012]. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material, artwork, or photo’s without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to [Jay Mora-Shihadeh] and [thepainterspalate.wordpress.com] with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

 

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Artist, clarity, Psychology, writer

AHHHHHHH — Frustration is Frustrating!

 

adult-athlete-concert-763219

Photo by Genaro Servín from Pexels

Frustration is an unsettling feeling, undoubtedly.

For years I’ve dappled in poetry and blogging. I’ve been skirting the edges of this craft (this art form) since my early days in Art School. Today I feel a calling, a force within, a palpable frustration in my need to write. Why?

Perhaps it is the voice in my head shouting at me to speak! Periodically afraid to voice my opinion in written format has been directly linked to my fear of commitment. AHA!

I literally was just informed of this by that voice in my head again. LOL! I perplex myself at the same time as finding myself quite brilliant. Seriously, I fear committing to an opinion or “story” as I might have to act on something. Well, at least that is the silliness I tell myself. I want to remain open I think, as an artist I should be open. This is the battle, the battle for clarity and fair-mindedness that stalks my psyche. Strange? I know. Stranger things there are though, ’cause people are their own worst critics.

And storytelling (by the way) is an ancient art form that has been handed down through our bloodlines, our bones. It’s a natural human condition (in my belief) that relay’s messages from within. To seek and tell one’s story, or to be sought out by our inner voice to tell one’s story. Poetry grabbed a hold of me the same way. I heard voices in my head (over and over) that wouldn’t shut up. I felt compelled to grab a notebook and pencil. Lo’ and behold —  poetry spilled out. I felt possessed. Mesmerized, I didn’t stop for several years. Same as my urge to pick up a brush and paint suddenly — telling a story visually, expressing an emotion, depicting a scene. No different.

adult-athlete-concert-763219

Photo by Genaro Servín from Pexels

Back to Frustration. Frustration about pivoting my art form. Where do I start? I know other artist’s and writer’s have the same problem. Painter’s stare at blank canvasses, as writer’s stare at blank pages. So it goes. To pivot or not to pivot? That is my question.

I want to master my pivoting. If I can master the pivot, I can effortlessly succeed. Right?

Frustration will cease to exist if I just pivot from it — Ha! (In fantasy world) Frustration is key to understanding my story — understanding the road to take, the story to tell. Pivoting is part of creating. Sometimes tackling the beast of frustration to the ground is how I proceed with creation. Frustration/Creation. Sounds good to me. I’ve learned to listen to the voices in my head. So, I forge forward. I write. I paint. I pontificate. And I frustrate. But I create, and that is what I live for. Now…what should I write?

©Jay Mora-Shihadeh

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These are the the veggie’s I had in the fridge this time around and I also had some beautiful bright mustard greens as well.

Together with some select spices and flavorings I whipped up a bountiful dish that fed me quite well.

Allspice and cinnamon  pairs well with the apple, carrot and onion. Both of these spices are also used often in Middle Eastern dishes which I grew up eating. The apple cider vinegar enhances the apple flavor and produces a nice tangy taste that adds to the sweet spiciness of  this meal. I chopped the trio of carrot, onion and apple and sautéed with spices first, adding salt and pepper to taste.

Then I incorporated the greens into the saute’, carefully adding the cider vinegar and some Tamari.

I then put on some millet to boil to go with the veggie’s. Millet is a great grain that is quick and very good for you, it has a nutty flavor and good protein. It is also a budget friendly grain that packs a punch of nutrients instead of white rice which is cheap but lackluster in the health department. I’m not totally knocking white rice, I love me some good Jasmine and Basmati rice, but millet is healthier and delicious. I always boost my grains by adding some type of seasoning. I put in some cumin seeds, salt and white pepper.

I packed the millet in a measuring cup, 1/2 cup, and spooned the veggie saute’ around the mound of millet. Beautiful, but I didn’t hesitate to devour it!

I then had seconds, always!

Yum Food!! Yum Art!!

© [Jay Mora-Shihadeh] and [thepainterspalate.wordpress.com], [2012]. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material, artwork, or photo’s without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to [Jay Mora-Shihadeh] and [thepainterspalate.wordpress.com] with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Artist, Food, writer

A Few Veggies A Meal Makes

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I love my cast iron skillet. I cook mostly everything under the sun in it. This is a farm fresh potato hash made with organic Yukon potatoes, peppers, grape tomatoes, radishes and radish tops. Finished with fresh Parmesan cheese. Simple hashy goodness! Yum.

Yum Food!! Yum Art!!

© Jay Mora-Shihadeh

English: Easter egg radishes, just harvested

English: Easter egg radishes, just harvested (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Food, writer

Farm Fresh Potato Hash

Good farm fresh food on a budget-Skillet Hash!

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