Please accept my submission for the writing challenge due 1/16/2025. Thank you
carolyn

DIETER’S PLIGHT

Help me, friends, make me trim,
Let me enjoy milk that’s skim.

Hide the rolls and extra butter,
Even though I may mutter.

Pass the eggs, forget the jelly.
I don’t want a big fat belly.

Give me juice and cottage cheese.
Take away the ice cream, please.

Close my mouth, seal it tight,
Keep those candies out of sight.

Shut my eyes so I won’t see
All that food that’s tempting me.

I will get thin; I will get thin.
The battle of pounds I must win,

Or else I’ll have to give away,
The size 3 dress I bought today!

Start of the new year, time to set some new goals,

What do I want? Most of all to be whole:

Being wholly holy, tending to my soul.

Choosing to engage instead of to scroll,

Stepping more wholeheartedly into this role,

As a beam of bright stardust, wonderfully made,

As a light in the darkness, dispersing the shade,

As a brilliant blade of grass, yet part of the glade,

Rising and dying, and never afraid,

Finding my center while the wheels spin around,

Saving space for silence amidst all of the sound.

Speaking to my maker with each morning sun,

Giving praise likewise when each day is done.

Knowing I’ve come far yet only begun,

Knowing I’ve fallen, and also, I’ve won.

Remembering my weakness is what makes me strong,

Minding my missteps while moving along,

Being a being so wondrous and bold,

Willing my blood to turn my heart into gold,

Remembering the hurts that I bear and I give,

Believing that love and forgiveness always outlive

The sorrow, the shame, the fear blocking joy

Those demons and dangers who drive to destroy

Our peace, our connection, the sameness we share,

Our communities, closeness, and hearts full of care.

This is the call, that’s the bar, and it’s set high,

But I can do it, yes, I believe I can fly.

So long as I’m strong, and remember my why,

So long as I give this livin’ a try,

I can get past all falls and visit the sky,

Get there real high, where all wonders I’ll spy,

Posted above, view like the bird’s eye.

That’s the place
where I’ll see all of space,
And I’ll remind myself…

To bring healing to my wounds, and tend other’s hearts,

To strive continually to play my small part,

To speak, to write, to sharpen my arts,

To create, to play, take it back to the start,

To remember the wonder, of life as it dawns,

To make my young self into my icon.

To soak it all in, each moment I get,

To remember where I come from, never forget,

To fully and freely release my regret,

To put all my money on myself for a bet,

Not to gain profit, but to be sure to set

My eyes on the horizons, and also to let

Myself know my worth, so I can give it to others,

To sacrifice self for these sisters and brothers.

To recognize the gift that is the druthers.

All in all, I anticipate with hope all this year may bring,

And with this poem, I throw my hat in the ring!

I come from broken windows, broken doors, and broken domes.

I come from broken hearts, broken trust, and broken homes.

I come from broken words, just trying to help the children sleep at night,

Hoping that my careful words were not completely lies.

I can’t believe I’m still alive,

Scars like poems written from the night,

I can see from the fire burning in my eyes,

There are still stars in my sky.

Year two thousand and twenty-five,

I want to come home to fixing drywall, fixing leaks, and fixing lights,

I want to come home to fixing the pieces that were broken all my life,

I’ll tell the children to hush now, that they can close their eyes,

I’ll sing them quiet poems and make up lullabies.

I come from making mischief, making fun, making trouble.

Since I was the second child, trouble turned to double.

Silly lies, secret spies, cherry pies, and starry skies,

I didn’t understand this world, but I didn’t care to try.

I come from faded paint, faded wood, and faded jeans.

I come from faded hopes, faded wishes, and faded dreams.

I come from faded pictures, never as colorful as they seem,

My parents as faded as the promises they didn’t intend to keep.

Year 2025 I want to repaint my life, too long it’s been so blue.

This year I will not dwell, I want to become something new,

My child has so many dreams that I will never crush or bruise,

My child has so many gifts that I will never hide or use,

I hope the only thing that will fade will be her smile as she falls asleep,

I hope the colors in her world will always be hers to keep.

I come from the darkness, catching in my throat like thick pounds of smoke,

But I have caught my breath and spoken: “I am not a fucking joke.”

I will take steps every day to making everything okay.

My only goal for 2025 is that this year I will finally be awake.

100%

For 25′ I want to be AL(I)VE;
AL(I)VE in my fullest expression without self-suppression;
In 24′ I learned a great many lessons;
I was hesitant to embrace SO(U)L and L(I)GHT and as a result I was the culprit behind the robberies of my opportunities and blessings;

I left things undone, continuously making a bigger mess;
Yet I accomplished , more or less, just not at the level that I desired;
At times I questioned whether or not I was equipped with enough willpower because I often found myself dropping the ball when it mattered most;

A light shines bright inside that EYE was blind to too, not just the ones EYE wanted to really see me;

But how could EYE expect others to see me if I didn’t fully utilize the courage to truly be me;

L(I)FE starts through a single spark;
From a spark I came and a spark I AM;
I desire to know what it means to be AL(I)VE in 25′;
I no longer want to hide what’s (I)NSIDE;
So that spark within, that spark that I AM, I set ablaze until my entire being is engulfed in flame;

My only goal in 25′ and in L(I)FE is to experience the L(I)GHT that fills my world when I choose to shine

Dear 2025,

Hello, there! It’s me, Heather. A woman who each year has so many dreams and goals to accomplish for the new year ahead. A woman that always walks with her head held high and mind set to open. The woman who each year makes a personal goal to better herself. Intellectually and sentimentally. This year though, it’s more about health and taking care of the body in a physical matter.

This year, I want happiness. Not just for my outer layer, but for my internal layer as well.
I want laughter. Not just from social media or television, but from reality. From sincere places.
I want clarity. Not just from words from others that are relatable, but from my mind and soul.
I want adventure. Not just with familiar faces, but with just mine and the open road.

2025, it’s you vs. me.
Your experiences vs. my courage.
Those reminders you send out vs. my achievements.
It’s your arms with the fastballs vs. my open arms, ready to catch those throws.

2025, I’m ready for your experiences.
Ready for your daily reminders.
I’m ready for your fastballs.

I. Am. Ready!

Writing style: 100%

What are my goals for 2025?

To dig my toes into the sandswept shores of the Pacific Ocean

To feel gentle waves breaking and the cool water against my sun-tanned skin

To see sunsets with colors that can only be matched in Heaven.

To sip Cabernet in a Californian vineyard while a sommelier teaches me and my sisters about the wine we are drinking and how it was made.

To see the Golden Gate Bridge in all it’s grandeur

To explore underground caves taking in the beauty of stalactites and stalagmites

To watch seals as they lazily sunbathe as the waves crash around them

To take in the sights, sounds, colors, and culture of California.

To be carefree and in the present moment with the ones I love.

To snuggle up so close to them that I can hear each beat of their heart

To soak in every moment

To travel

To achieve these results will take sacrifice

It will require saying some “no’s,” so I can ultimately say “yes” to time with my family

Will take a re-evaluating of my spending habits

Will require learning to distinguish a “want” from a “need”

Will teach me different ways to save.

This year my goal is to be financially responsible so that I can spend the thing that is most precious

Time with my family and those I love.

I made a pact with the mirror one day,
To stop hiding my dreams, to clear the way.
Pen to paper, my soul I’d bare,
Not just for me, but for others out there.

For the foster youth who feel unheard, I’ll give them a voice, I’ll honor their word.
A guide, a light, to show what’s due, to teach them the power of “I deserve too.”

This blog, this space-it’s more than a goal,
It’s the healing of hearts, the mending of souls.
A place where stories rise and thrive,
Proof that every struggle means we’re alive.

I write my truths, I ink my fears,
Short stories, poems-through blood, through tears.
I signed a contract, sealed with resolve,
to grow through creation, to steadily evolve.

They say I’m late, but I know my pace,
Dreams ain’t a race, it’s a journey to grace.
Even blooms in winter can break through the frost,
No time is wasted, no dream is lost.

So here I stand, a see reborn,
A life once frayed, now no longer torn.
For those who need hope, I’ll always scream:
Even the late bloomer can chase their dream!

What is a book?
Is it just a collection of letters,
Sorted into words,
Arranged into sentences,
Grouped into paragraphs,
Bundled into chapters,
Bound together by a central theme?
If that’s the case,
Then I’ve written a book.
A couple, actually.
But it doesn’t feel like it.
My books are digital only.
That’s the way to go these days,
Isn’t it?
Print is dead, right?
Then why do I feel as if
I have NOT written a book?
Maybe I’m just being foolish,
But I want more.
I want my book to occupy space
On my bookshelf
Next to the fireplace.
I want to be able to read the title and my name
On the spine of the book as it is
Nestled in the bookshelf,
Uncomfortably squeezed literally and literarily
Between classics like Ulysses and Moby Dick.
I want to physically hold the book
And curl up in a comfy chair with it.
I want to riffle through the pages,
Creating a breeze I can feel on my face.
I want the tactile experience of the printed word,
As I rub a page between my thumb and forefinger.
I want a book that can be ruined
Should a page be torn from it.
I want a book that has some staying power,
Whether on a shelf or in a storage box gathering dust,
While the owners forget what’s inside.
I no longer want my book to be only a digital file
That can be deleted with a click on a trash bin icon
Or lost forever at the next hard drive crash.
I want a sense of permanence for my book.
At least I want it to outlast me.
Perhaps this may be a flight of vanity.
I prefer to think of it more as a legacy
That proves I was here,
That I had thoughts,
And that I recorded them for posterity.
For those reasons and others,
I will publish a book in print this year.
I will riffle the pages
And breathe in the smell of the newly printed paper.
Then I will place my book on my bookshelf.

My goals in 2025 include healing and allowing myself to move forward. Here is my poem of hope.

Can you take an axe
A pick or a maul
And hollow a space in the stone the width and breadth of two
And I will use the hand plane and the lumber and I will use bolts and braces
To fashion a door for the hollow
Latch it
Strongly.
Once we are both inside,
And the world is fully outside
We will cry the racking sobs that have nowhere else to go
Held back fourteen years and some
Odd months or so
When we emerge
You will be iron and I will be alloy
And the sun will warm us
And can you
If you are able
Undo the lashings holding this pack
It is heavily filled and spills over
With sorrow and regret
Causing me to stoop
Can you if not such an imposition
If you have the strength
Help me drop it in the river
Then
We will build a table of oak and maple
And we will set it with all good things
And eat our fill of it
Til joy happiness mirth and innocence
Are the only things we can hear ringing in the forest

Wow…it’s already 2025…
Yet my brain still feels like 2020
Is shifting into a winter’s breeze
Welcoming us into a New Year’s kiss
And a hopeful embrace hidden in the folds
Of snowy blankets stretching out once again… I wonder

Will this year be kinder to us?

The onslaught of tears pool in my eyes
My throat tightens, and my hands grow cold
Yet they won’t fall.
…because you wouldn’t want that…
Locking myself in the past would do me no good.

I can hear you now…
“You’re a writer, aren’t you?”
…Telling me to write about it. (Is this what you meant?)

I remember you asking me
for a new story (I’ll get to it…I swear!) …
Just like you once asked me for longer hair…
To take better care of myself…
And to see what you saw in me…

You amazed me…
Your warm smile, generous heart
And brightening soul…accepting me without an ounce
of your blood running through my veins.

I’ll take your words to heart
And start believing in myself
Just like you did until
I see what you see within
The mirror you gave me.

And yeah…I might as well try to finish that novel.
It’s 2025 after all…new year, new me?
Hopefully, I’ll believe in myself enough
To submit it this time
Just for you, so I can grow…
To be at least a bit like you come 2026
That is my goal.

2025 is going to be My year, sadly my mom passed away December 22nd and We ARE ALL STUNNED, but my Mom taught us TO NEVER GIVE , she taught me that NOTHING IS TOO SMALL for me to accomplish it, I just have to go after it, so my goals this year to ENJOY LIFE, smile and CHERISH EVERY MOMENT, there’s good if we look for it( just like bad) I am NOT GOING TO COMPLAIN about the guy cutting me off or losing a football game online, my other goal is Macy’s Thanksgiving Day parade, I have always been told I CAN’T DO SOMETHING, you should try smaller, well I don’t believe that, I believe I have to give my all and I at least TRIED, ( I would rather try and lose rather than to Never try at all) So this year I plan on being MORE POSITIVE and Macy’s Thanksgiving Day parade is the ONLY PARADE, I want to be in this year. Stay positive and remember Luke 1:37 For with God nothing shall be impossible

Another year is knocking,
But I am not ready to answer.
Don’t they know rebirth doesn’t happen in winter?

I am still unbecoming.
I am still busy undoing.
My bones are still tired.
I don’t feel like pursuing.

I will leave the Christmas tree up.
I will continue to rest.
I had to learn this the hard way:
There’s no use trying to be best.

I do not plan to start anew.
I do not wish to have a goal.
I will not write out things to do,
Or make a vision board of it all.

I have done enough.
I saved more than money.
I saved my life a few times
And still haven’t tasted honey.

It is not me who needs to be sweeter.

I do not need to be better.
It is the years who need to be better to me.

Keep going, the theme of 25
We didn’t think we’d make it, past 25, let alone to 2025.

Keep going.

A Goal is nothing without a plan.
2024 was spent planning,
2023 was spent learning,
2025 is filled with goals

Goal 25,
Be around more people.
Goal 24,
Advocate for me more.
Goal 23,
Make more memories.
Goal 22,
Learn freedom without a car.
Goal 21,
Finish my book.
Goal 20,
Make amends.

Keep going.
Goal Post 25.

But remember,
Life is the journey, not the destination.
Allow the goalpost to change and give yourself grace in the face of it all.

Goal Post 25

I don’t have to be anyone but myself.
This year, I am reassessing my goals and balancing ambition with rest.
I will look into the mirror, meet my own eyes with grace, and declare, “I am enough.”
In 2025, I will walk boldly, my hands open to possibility, spreading seeds of love wherever I’m planted.
Friendships will bloom like wildflowers, beautiful and unexpected.
I will chase justice with steady feet.
Though I am among many, I will be a beacon, a lighthouse in a storm, lighting the way for others to feel seen, to feel safe.
I will live fearlessly, propelling forward with purpose, even when the ground shifts beneath me, even when I am unsure of my next step.
I will change my mindset, shifting from fear to freedom.
I will choose myself as an act of healing, a soft rebellion against the urge to shrink.
This year, I will be safe and comfortable in my own company, without judgment, without apology.
At the end of every day, I will ask only, “Do I approve of me?”
2025 will not be perfect, but it will be rooted, honest, abundant.
This year, I am becoming my favorite self—whole, fearless, healed—a life in bloom, rooted in acceptance.

Make reservations for a weeknight,
at the new restaurant in the next town over,
where they serve drinks in silly plastic bath tubs
with rubber ducks floating on curaçao-blue bath water
and the smoke from searing cuts of steak
perfumes the couples in corner booths:
L’eau de garlic.

Call in sick when the sun rises,
and I’ve not gone to bed,
kept awake through the witching hours by
the tale of a land where there are still dragons
and a knight who falls for the lady
with a skilled sword hand and
a sharp tongue.

Turn off my cell phone and
spend twenty unmoving minutes
in front a pond that Monet painted
until my eye lose focus
and the light tricks them into seeing
ripples move around the waterlilies.

Lay on the rocks that line the water’s edge
where the sound of the waves rises and falls
like breathing,
while the sun warms my back
as if I were a lounging lizard,
rather than a woman
with responsibilities.

Why does every new year
come with the pressure
to reinvent myself
through resolutions?

What if my only goal this year
is to be authentically me?
Or what if it is to laugh
until my sides hurt?
Or to stop and notice
the little things that bring joy?

What if I don’t become
someone else this year
and just enjoy the beauty
of all that I already am?
What if I don’t give in
to the pressure?

Adulting
Last year was here to support me,
This year is here to let me go.
Last year came with unimaginable pain,
This year approaches me with surprises and rewards.
Between I want to stay, but I know I better leave.
‘You’re a quarter, 25!’ they say, but forgotten by twenty-six.
‘As this year goes by its going to be exciting!’ but nothing is ever going to be the same.
Nobody said mourning the past was going to feel so weird, but
eager for what’s to come this year.
100% done on the original goal I’ve had for years.
Graduating in May,
Becoming an aunty by August,
Having the honor to say, ‘I got accepted to universities!’ and wondering which one I’ll choose.
Slowly maturing and leaving the nest.
Adulting before my very own eyes.
Perhaps a bottle of Wine & Moscato instead of Tequila this year.