how winter escapes
my attention this cold night
snug in my warm bed
J M Lysun
The mirror of my heart,
Always lies next to me.
She eats and breathes poetry.
With her passion clear,
Her words sincere,
She whispers this wisdom:
“Say what you must”
“Your heart you should trust.”
Hearing these few words,
I do great courage find,
How they inspire me to share,
The contents of my mind.
With mind and heart now clear,
And ready to embrace my fear,
I reach and grasp a pen, so I can,
My thoughts to you now send.
J M Lysun
It’s been a while since my last chat with all of you. I really can’t believe I’ve been blogging for 5 months now. It feels as If I’ve been doing this for years…Ha!ha!
As I’ve mentioned before, trying to reach out to an audience is an incredible experience. Although, my focus is still for self pleasure, it’s impossible to ignore the addictive nature of blogging and trying to echo themes that an audience is tuned to. For
” the sound of silence,
is often louder than words,
the blogger knows well.”
Anyway, I just thought I’d write a few words to share my writing experience so far and to thank all of you who are participating in my writing explorations.
The words of support and appreciation, I’ve received, are part of what gives me strength in my development as a writer.
Some of you, who have read my home page, might be wondering what is happening with my much announced Children’s book project. Having made the bold statement of getting a book published before the end of 2014, I am beginning to feel a growing pressure to match my words with action.
When I first announced this, I wanted to set a goal, which I thought would be demanding enough but not totally unachievable . My view was quite simple at that time; to take a story from my children’s early childhood, evolve it a little, produce some illustrations and compile everything on Ms word and voila, a freshly baked book! Of course, I wasn’t that totally naïve, but I was confident I would muddle my way through all the challenges, as and when they occurred.
Suffice to say, the journey to self publishing a children’s picture book is proving to be a lot more challenging than that I had expected. Although, I am concentrating my efforts to getting the book complete, I may miss my set deadline.
After countless versions, hundreds of sketches and many hours of revisions, it’s only now that I am beginning to see the light. As both writer and for the main part the illustrator, I am constantly evolving my ideas; using the feedback from my support group, to help steer my creativity towards making something that will be both enjoyable to read and visually a bit different for a young audience.
The quality of what I produce may not necessarily match, totally, the more expensive, professionally published books, but I am determined to produce something of quality to the best of my abilities.
Without giving too much away, the story is for an audience between the age of 5 to 8 yrs. It’s about a greedy King “who has everything” and wanting more, who almost ruins his kingdom in his pursuit of his neighbour’s wealth. He eventually learns the value of friendship.
It has a bit of humour and magic thrown in.
These are examples of types of illustrations that will be found in my book.
Below is my sketch of the Warfoo King expressing his anger towards Ringu.
I am currently playing with “Calibre” trying to work out how to use it to load my work and create the desirable format. Once that’s done, I will produce a version that I can have reviewed.
That’s it for now. I hope you are all having a wonderful weekend!!!
J M Lysun
Let not time on you bestow a heavy heart
From your soul let these thoughts depart
Hearing the endless knock of great remorse
Heed the message and change your course
Keep clear of deeds that will sadness feed
In your mind they’ll linger as an endless seed
Try we must to live a life of no regrets
Try we must to stay free of worldly debts
If an error we make or even a promise break
This we should quickly seek to shake
Do good deeds to help clear your heart
Such actions will help regrets to part
If this measure proves not enough
Don’t lose hope, just be tough
Always try to be good and kind
From such deeds great strength you’ll find
J M Lysun
speak of what you see
miss the beautiful moment
nature in action
J M Lysun
The inhumanity of our kind is legendary
So many wasted lives scattered in the wind
To fulfill dreams verging on madness.
For millennia, we have deceived ourselves.
Harnessing the politics of ancient maps and gripes
“In the name of God and Country”, rivers of
Blood we allowed to flow; through inexcusable
Callous acts only a messed up human mind,
Not God could dream. Often deluded and
Armed with misguided thoughts we seek
Retributions from others. We claim equal
Measure of blood for blood caring not for
The innocent. Our conscience, if heard,
Would weep at our acts of pure savagery.
Even aware of this, we still allow our souls
To be tarnished, as we seek to harness
Sadness to unleash unwarranted brutality
On our fellowmen. “By the will of God and Country”
We say over and over again to conceal the extent
Of our insanity. It says much when even the
Human mind cannot knowingly endure this
Degree of evil without invoking others to take
The blame. We rationalise our actions not
Because there is reason to be found but rather
To wash our hands of our misdeeds. We even
Invent words to absolve our race from sin, labelling
Such acts as “inhumane” as if this evil is not part
Of our collective nature, not part of “humanity”
When in truth it lives in all of us. The sooner we
Accept this and learn to address it, the sooner
We can claim to be truly civilised. So let us
Never forget the sacrifices, the tears and blood
That was shed in countless wars and those
Who bore the brunt of our collective wrong.
J M Lysun
So much is said and written in haste,
With meanings lost in cocooned words,
That has never felt tears of sadness,
Nor tasted love, happiness or joy.
Being merely strings of letters, bound,
Imbued with only a simple kiss,
And lacking the fullness of emotions,
They pale compared to night and day.
Unable to fathom the true depth
Of sorrow, they only reflect,
An image of the ocean, a moment,
A vision, of what maybe but never
Rich enough to capture pure essence.
Never to know the glory of the sun
And the elegant beauty of the moon.
Being only cast out of straw, they will
Eventually dissipate in the mist of time.
Even when beaded together to shine,
However beautifully they may be,
The fate of words is not to be
The ocean but merely the pond.
Not to be the master of the sun,
But to live in its eternal shadow
And point towards true beauty.
J M Lysun