Prose Poetry

Sitting in bed after midnight in those black hours where the lamp goldens the air, sometimes I find inspiration there. I turn to a pen and a journal because my mind I want to bare. A hand moving across paper laying down ink seems more connected to me than an electronic device manipulating ions.

However, when I bring it here, you freely see those mistakes I make. It is a bit scary, but I have never wanted much other than to be real. It is as I have almost always been before.

A discussion today involved imperfection being an element of our ideas of value in arts. Another was how freedom undiluted by opinion, especially in arts, allows us to be true to our ideals. So, I hope you like what I do, but I have to let my attachment to your opinion go. I know that is not popular, but it is how I must roll.

2020.01.09 - Prose Poem

I used the scanner today, the clarity seems much better than my phone. I am actually better with the more fundamental forms of technology.

If you only use devices now, as a prompt, try writing by hand. You do not have to share the handwriting, but see if your mental connection is different. You may find your production increases in freshness. Not being able to back up, erase, and edit can hold you to a standard that may be unfamiliar.

I edit better on-screen, but sometimes words line up in more musical ways when I write by hand.

I practiced handwriting extensively throughout my life. My writing hand, the right, is giving me some problems, I have arthritis, but I am keeping it active. Working very hard to retain my legibility so I can keep doing things like the above is essential.

I believe as we age, staying creatively active is a gift to help remain mentally agile. The small motor motions also help brains maintain robust neuronal, axonal, and dendrite activity.

I am thankful for the many blessings given to me. I am amazed at the gifts of which I partake in existing. I hope everyone can find beauty in their lives.

Be well, be you, chase your joy, create!

© Jo Ann J. A. Jordan






There is a silence
Speaking a symphony, loud,
So many voices
Unheard within the clamor
Of a cold unheeding world.

Knowing, unknowable,
A puzzling undefined, left,
To find a pathway
Where the signposts are missing
And the emptinesses full.

A Tanka is a syllabic form with counts 5-7-5-7-7. Often they provide an opportunity to paint with words. As a prompt, you may wish to write a few. Or you might take time to take photos of these lean Winter times.

Best to all.

© Jo Ann Joyce Anita Jordan

Creative Variety

Day Seven – 2020 Creativity Project

Wookie watching Wick

Wookie raptly watching a movie. Edited version.

I have been on the internet since 1991. Creatives are among my favorite people. A baseline normal between creatives, we are all original individuals. Our personalities, gifts, characteristics, styles, spirituality, beliefs, all those, and more make us unusual, and yet we are alike. There is a spark in the room when creatives meet. We chatter, and we immediately find something which we can relate to within one another.

Many of us are introverts, we will find ways to sequester ourselves in privacy. Though we can lay that aside long enough to perform something we believe in. Sometimes, this is almost too hard. What should we write, draw, paint, photograph, what tools use? Is art worthwhile? Is the meaning and connotation of a word correct? Is it perfect, or close enough, no one can see the seams, the erasures? The picture, should it have been edited, or was the original better? Will anyone read, will they care, will someone?

Uncertainty seems to come with the territory, but we can stand loud and proud when we feel we must. Our hearts are open, our minds malleable, our work forever with us. Dreams are waking us to grab tools of record in the dire hours of the night. We study, then find it not enough, and explore more.

When the curtain draws down, we will be begging long enough to get the current work complete. Dame Death can wait…

Maybe I exaggerate, I am a poet who writes stories, essays, and attempts books. I do these Creativity Projects that tax me beyond belief. I believe in making myself work because if I do not commit, I might crawl into a cavern and secret myself away. Figuratively speaking darlings, if I had a cavern, we would have sleepovers on crisp nights.

I did poems today, but I am not satisfied with any of them, then when am I confident of the writing I do? I think it is why I read so much. I can twine my mind in someone else’s creation. Anyway, you are warned.

Down, Upsideways

Touched by the feather
Of a snowy dove named love
My soul reaches up
Toward Heaven way above
Then stretches out and abroad.

I inhale the breeze
Breathing out weighty worry;
Then again process,
Exhaling stores of kindness and joy
Praying health, happiness, prosperity to all.

I hope good fortune
Will find ample opportunity in many lives;
People who shall discover
Grace as comfort always
And fullness of faith as a living fire.


Can I be you now?
I know I should not ask,
But you seem self-assured,
Only for today, until
The time day goes undercover
Where we can dream mysteries
We might never encounter if
Our lives did not intersect,
Combine, entwine, meld,
Like no one knows but we
In on the secrets only we two may
Comprehend, understand;
How will our hearts ever beat
Quite the same as prior, after
Sharing who we really are?
Do you realize how precious,
Surpassing grand are the gifts
You within yourself do own?
We might be explorers, ah, home.


Let us live forever
Remembered by generations
Whose opportunity to know
Us is only in the creations
We leave behind in time.
What we share with others
What we release from within,
Those  bits and pieces of thought
Captured in any set form
Can transmit over eras
Perhaps helping someone grow
Into a person better suited
To survive whatever may
Become their experience
In living a maximum life.

I hope you found something of worth, I have not felt like I could do this today. The Quits have set in. You know that saying, “You should not be doing this. It is not any good. Give up.” Yeah, my brain has not yet learned, “Never Give Up!” is stronger. Anyway, thank you for visiting. If you wish there is a follow button, or come back when you like.

All the best to you, and keep reaching for your goals, I believe in you. I thank God this marvelous tool brings us together. I hope I did not go over long today. Sometimes, if you knew, I have lots to share.

Wookie watching television, movie. Less edited version.


© Jo Ann J. A. Jordan


My son, Alex, who is an adult, has been visiting since mid-December, except for some weekends he went to visit others. He is making a move back here to Georgia from out West.

Things are different when your child is an adult, it seems I get corrected more than ever. It is bearable, well, we are still speaking to one another.

One thing we had discussed accomplishing while he was here with me was dealing with all the things Mom left behind and other clutter I am so adept at accumulating. Picture border-line hoarder, here. I collect things and collect things and more things. I can admit I run amok.

We got Mom’s room under enough control that he can sleep back there, and we carried off an Explorer load of clothes to GoodWill. There is still so much.

If you are a person like me or are dealing with someone like me, strap on your patience good and tight and stay hydrated. This declutter crap is harrowing and no wimps need apply. I can only take it in spurts and even then I have rip-roaring headaches. Most things he sees as just junk, I know all the history about and could spend significant time explaining. Yeah, cue the Eagles, “Get Over It!”

I worked part of the kitchen today. It has not been a blue-ribbon day. I did make admirable progress in my estimation, clearing some counters, moving things, rearranging others. The really dismal thing is I am not a fast person, I am meticulous. Not exactly the best trait when trying to throw away a lifetime of collected stuff (for you enlightened beings, that probably translates as JUNK.)

Dishes that are of the original or close to that pattern of Corelleware can probably leave. The stuff Mom brought home from yard sales that I wished she had never seen, those go too. Where did all these margarine tubs and lids come from? Mom never met one she did not like. The bowls with all the pretty colors and patterns, we are not doing so good over. Ever heard, “I might need it someday?”

The worst of it is he wants me to get rid of some books. To say I am attached to ALL my books would not be overstating my situation.

Anyway, I think I raised a drill sergeant in disguise, recruiter duty did that set of pipes no justice, none at all.

He is working on his novel when I am not on his radar for repudiation. I am working on this when I can get to it. I need to HideAway as Mick Jagger sings about so well.

Things are looking better. I have to admit that, just the process is so painful I would like to get the heck out of dodge.

I hope all of you are meeting your goals, beginning 2020 right. I have high expectations for everything we can accomplish in the coming weeks. Life is such a blessing and flees from us so soon. Every day is precious and we should spend our time improving lives with love and being who we wish.

A river running
Throughout space and time, all us
Loving, living, wise.
As a prompt, look at the poem above. It is my favorite type of poem, a Haiku. It is syllabic, where you count syllables, first-line – five syllables, second-line – seven syllables, final line – five syllables. Write some of your own, they are excellent creativity warm-up exercises.

Gratitude is a balm to the soul. If you will regularly make lists of the things for which you are thankful more happiness and blessings will find you.

I am grateful:

  1.  It was not raining so much today.
  2.  I made progress in the kitchen.
  3.  I have adequate medications.
  4.  My son is visiting.
  5.  I came into this year without being alone.

Thank you for the time you have taken to visit Haphazard Creative. I hope you found something to inspire, entertain, or just make you think. There is a follow button or come back at your whim. God Bless You and Yours, Always!

© Jo Ann J. A. Jordan



Exit 2019, Welcome 2020


As we wave goodbye
To what we became and know,
We still share enough.
Our burdens we strip away
In effort to grow, survive,
Escaping the trap
Left behind like a list made
In haste, featuring
Doubt, observations obscure,
Uncertain meanings, some unknown.
Praying a grant, gift,
Of blessings, we tell ourselves
Focus, start this moment new
Build reality
From cherished dreams, independent,
No longer neglected, precious
As the life pulsing through us
Each one making our hope,
Love, present in human form.

© Jo Ann J. A. Jordan
Sunday, December 29, 2019

This poem is in answer to The Sunday Whirl. In the past, I did a lot of such work, but it has been some time. As a prompt, you could trek over there and participate.

I again changed some site settings. I was not happy with the lack of a pictorial header.

I am writing a decent amount now, here. I am thinking about taking up a 365 Creativity Challenge like I have done in the past, but it is a huge commitment. There does not appear a level of interest here to encourage that much engagement. It is rolling around in my brain like a marble in a pinball machine, though. So, it may or may not happen.

I am grateful:

  1.  My son, Alex, has been home over the holidays.
  2.  His two excursions away in my Explorer have gone well.
  3.  I am adept at working around my technology’s pitfalls.
  4.  We have made some little headway on getting my home under control.
  5.  I am optimistic about the opportunities for the coming year.

I appreciate your visiting, Haphazard Creative. I hope you will follow the site or come back as you have time and interest.

All the best to each of you going forward.