nikki diekemper

Words Run Out

I don’t know what to say
My thinker just isn’t thinking
I’ve got so many things started
But the words run out before it’s completed

There’s gotta be something to give
Some inspiration I have tucked away and hid
But I stare at the screen and sigh
I’m not really feeling that high

Take a deep breath and another
Figure out what thought treats you like a brother
But my shoulders do ache
And my arms don’t want to lift

My bed comes to mind
After the weekly grind
Just melt in the covers
Not worrying about others

But there’s got to be something
Some little inspiration
Perhaps that’s what it is?
That strength has limited duration?

Take a deep breath and another
It’s okay to finally relax
Be sure to rest
So you can be at your max

The words will flow again
The Light will shine
Take care of yourself
Give yourself time

One.
Not bad, we can handle one.
Roll it off the shoulder and we’re done.
Two.
Wait. There’s more of you?
Why is there confusion in the room?
Three.
Uh, this isn’t our usual cup of tea.
Can we just go back to one?
Four.
Not enough people are coming through that door.
Don’t tell me we’re short-staffed again.
Five.
It’s a hundred and eleven degrees outside.
We’re all getting cooked alive.
Six.
What’s the most efficient way we can make the best of this?
Don’t forget we have to feed the chicks.
Seven.
Stay on the bright side. At least it’s not eleven.
But I am covered in chiggers again.
Eight.
I totally forgot the date.
I think we have to be here at this time today.
Nine.
Everything is fine.
And, yes, that was totally a lie.
Ten.
I’m exhausted.
When will this day finally end?

An Old Poem

Familiar. The breeze of a tongue.
The warning of the storm to come.
A shelter long built. In time made strong.
Keeps the feelings away and the tears long gone.
To stand a receiver of frustrated blows.
Give nothing back. Don’t let anything show.
There is no reason. Not even the truth.
It’s only taken as a worthless excuse.
Let the storm run it’s course. Don’t get in the way.
Else your shelter will surely pay.
Just be a rock. It’ll be over soon.
And life will go on like there was no monsoon.
Watch for the signs. Don’t be lazy.
It will come again and it will come hazy.
A fresh new storm. It’s warning sung.
Upon the harsh breeze of a tongue.

Don’t Ask

Don’t ask a zookeeper why they’re crying.
Most likely, they won’t be able to answer.
Pay no mind to the sobs on their lips.
Don’t acknowledge the tears on their face.

If you have to ask
Then you didn’t wonder
Why a caretaker would break down
Perhaps it’s all the stress they’re under
Or perhaps a goodbye caused their frown

To be a keeper, it takes a lot
A lot of days and a lot for naught
Lots of laughs and smiles
Friendships and rivals

We may never gain an animal’s trust
And they may never know how much we care
But the important thing is that we’re there.

So when you see our tears
Or the puff of our cheeks
It’s best to just let us weep

We’d like to tell you
We appreciate the concern
But to share the news,
We have to wait our turn

Just offer a smile and if you may,
Tell us which animal was your favorite today

At the heart of it all
The job never ends
There’s another animal just around the bend

So let us weep so we can move on
And help all our animals carry on strong

I can promise you all, that we’re certainly trying
Just don’t ask us, zookeepers, why we’re crying.

Two Little Turtles

Two Little turtles

Going for a swim

Both smaller than my hand

And green at the rim

Two Little turtles

Pecking at debris

Looking for something tasty to eat

They kick and they swim

In clear calm water

Passing by trash and someone’s lost bobber

Not a care in the world except to find their next meal

Find a warm rock to bask and heel.

Swimming among reeds and an old Gatorade bottle

Passing wrappings and foam that’ll be here a while.

Two little turtles call the lake their home

Wondering when humans will leave nature alone.

Too Many Notebooks!

UGH, I know I wrote it down somewhere. Was it on a paper? A notecard? My Google docs? No. It has to be in one of my notebooks. Yet, I have a heavy sigh when I stare at my bookshelf. Which notebook is it in?

I’ll flip through one. It’s what I’m using currently. Of course…there’s no rhyme or reason to what’s inside. I just write, after all.

Oh, look. I forgot about that scene. I wonder if it’s any good. Well, there’s my notes for the proposal. Been wonder where those were. Hey, I don’t remember this title. What’s this one? Oh, yeah. I didn’t finish it cause I didn’t like it. What am I looking for again?

Let’s try a different notebook. Where’s that one, little one? It had this pattern, but that’s not the right notebook. Maybe it’s–no–that one is an unfinished story. Ugggh. I know it’s here somewhere, but what did I do with it? I bet this one has–nope. That’s work stuff. Wait. This one is empty? Why is it in this pile?

Oh, good. There’s the conference notebook I was looking for. Oh! Is that it?

Nope. That one’s empty too…

Where. Did. I. Put. It?

Those are folders. That one is empty. Wow. I’ve had this other one forever and I haven’t written in it yet? There’s so many empty ones. I need to write more, but where is the one I’m looking for?

Oh. Legal pads. Those are fun. What’s underneath it? Loose papers. Weird, and this notebook starts at page thirty-nine. What happened to the first thirty-eight? Oh, well. It’s all blank anyway. There! That has to be–nope. I already looked at that one…Where else could it be?

Not in the art cabinet. That’s for sketchbooks and art supplies, but maybe…?

I think I’m going crazy.

I was right. Just sketchbooks and art supplies. That was a waste of time. Oh, more loose papers. I’ll just stick them in those folders. Heh…ha…what did I do with the folders?

Oh, there’s more notebooks in the closest? What’s in here? Man, I forgot about these. I need to go through them. Condense the information and what I’ll need for the next novel or three.

HEY, I FOUND IT!

Yes. Yes! This is it! Not on that page. Not on this one. That’s a pretty picture. Oof, scratch off that review. Did I use this scene? Oh, it’s chapter 20. I’ll have to come back to that. Hey. My sci-fi. Wow, that note is a name, but I know exactly what it references. Huh.

Agh, stop getting distracted. You’re on a mission.

Oh, come on. All that time trying to find this one notebook and what I need isn’t even in it…What did I do with my list?

Well, this is a super old notebook. It won’t be in here. You know what? I give up. I’ll start the list again somewhere else and try to remember where I put it this time.

Season of Hope

Daily writing prompt

What is your favorite season of year? Why?

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My favorite season would have to be spring. I’m not a fan of cold, and I love watching the world wake up to warmth. My job requires me to spend a lot of time outside which means I get affected by the seasons. I’m out in the scorching heat of summer, I wonder at the vibrant colors of fall, and I trek through the heavy snowfalls of winter. I see it all. Yet, my favorite thing to see is the new growth of spring.

In winter, the trees are a bunch of sticks, dead looking fingers sticking up to the sky. Melted snow makes everything mushy and the brisk wind makes it uncomfortable walking from one building to another. Yet, when spring comes around, you see life budding on the trees. The cold wind is banished with the hug of warmth and flowers make themselves known. There’s new life and the reminder of new beginnings, new hope.

Then, there’s also the storms.

Spring time is a season of storms and I come from a family that enjoys them. Heavy rain, rumbles of thunder, and lightning dancing across the sky. It’s another sign of change from the cold winter and rainfall quenches the thirst of the land.

I enjoy looking at the world after a springtime rain. I remember several times walking dogs at a previous job where I’d take the long path to enjoy the color change rain did to the trails. When it rains, it darkens the bark and branches of trees and other plants. The sky is still an overcast gray, so the world would seem gloomy and dim; however, in the bloom in the spring, colors pop.

With the darkened bark and the gray sky as contrast, the colors of leaves and flowers stand out. My favorite tree to find is a redbud at this time, because the shades of purple on its petals stick out like medieval royalty. Then there’s all the dandelions looking like little suns against the dark of mud. It’s a nice reminder that in the midst of a storm, you can still find beauty and hope.

That’s what I love about spring. Summer is fun and fall is beautiful. Winter’s too cold, but spring is hopeful, and the world could use a little more hope.

Heart of a Warrior

Daily writing prompt

Do you remember your favorite book from childhood?

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My favorite books when I was younger was definitely the Warriors series by Erin Hunter. I started reading them in Jr. High when my library ran out of the Guardians of Ga’Hoole books by Katherine Lasky (another series I thoroughly enjoyed).

You can say I became a little obsessed with the Warriors series. I mean, it’s a series about cats surviving in their own clans in the wild. I got a lot of the books, drew the characters in my schoolbooks, checked out the original website where you could figure out which clan you belonged in and even made my family do it to. Based of their results, I started writing my own fanfiction. Then, I learned about the online writing roleplay and I got hooked into that.

I enjoyed the series and not because it was about cats, but because it involved characters becoming warriors. Characters that stuck to their code or followed their heart. There was a lot of potential for conflict and the first series does a really good job making a zero a hero. Jr. High to high school was rough for me, but it was nice to read about these cats who always had each others backs or followed their ambitions or put their clan before themselves. My favorite characters were the most loyal ones.

This series also helped me become a better writer. By joining the online, writing roleplay, I was able to hone my skills in description and story development. I even learned leadership skills when I created my own online clans for others to join. I would roleplay as the leader of the clan and I found it enjoyable when new members would spring new ideas into our ongoing stories. It was exciting not being in control of every variable and having to adapt to the responses of others. I’ll always be grateful for that roleplay I made and learned so much from.

Now, I must be honest. Warriors by Erin Hunter has many different series or sagas to it as well as branch off novels and graphic novels. I could only make it so far in the series as, in my opinion, the series has gone down hill from the first two sagas. It’s a whole can of beans that I won’t bore you with. I may not be a fan of the series today, but it was that series that led to my roleplay characters and their conflicts that helped me want to grow and face everything with the heart of a warrior.

Daisies in the Grass

Daily writing prompt

Describe one simple thing you do that brings joy to your life.

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In a far corner of a zoo along, a long gravel road riddled with potholes, you find yourself at a few African bomas. They’re just simple, round buildings lined with sticks, but they keep the animals safe when not on exhibit. There’s five buildings in total–though you wouldn’t think them as such. Each has their own yard–or yards–for the animals, but it’s hard to see with all the overgrowth.

It’s that time of year–again–when all the plants come back. Bushes grow through fences. Trees drop their branches. The grass grows taller than the animals and the whole place looks like a swampy jungle. There used to a be a tree here and there, but a storm took them out–do be careful, though. There’s poison ivy all around.

It’s a lot of work to maintain. Trust me. I try. Yet, daily tasks come first. You want to know why? It’s because the animals are most important. Chores come second or third (or fourth). There’s not a lot of time in the day, and I have to make the most of it. Of course.

As overwhelming as springtime yardwork is. You want to see what I’m most proud of? I didn’t plant them. I don’t know where they came from, but there’s daisies all along these things. There’s a bunch by that boma, and along that fence. Even down in the stork yard–it doesn’t make sense.

Such beautiful flowers, growing in all this mess. Don’t touch. That one’s surrounded by poison ivy. Wouldn’t you guess? They make me smile for more reasons than one. I try to take care of them. Make sure they’re getting sun. They’re a bit sentimental for me, you know. I had a dog named Daisy and they’re my mom’s favorite things to grow.

Yet, despite sentimentality, I love the lesson. Such beauty is growing in these hard rock formations. Even when the bad things start piling up. Tangling your fences and blocking your view. There’s still a reason to hope, something to pick you up. Beauty grows in the midst of a mess. You just gotta see it. Do your best.

No matter the day or the never-ending tasks. I hope you find your daisies, hiding in the grass.

I Want to be on the Dock

I want to be on the dock. Put my toes in the water.
I want to see ribbons of silver dance on the waves.
I want to lay back on the stone that’s been warmed by the sun.
I want to see the swallows dive through the buoys and hear the ducklings chase after their mother.
I want to look out at the moon and breathe in its light. Sit in the cool night, sunburnt and light.
I want to be on the dock every part of the day.
I want the sound of the waves to wash my cares away.
I want to look for treasures along the shore, and skip rocks from the boat ramp.
I want to look for turtles, sunning on a log.
I want to shout out “snake” when it come along.
I want to guess the birds and walk barefoot.
I want to breathe in the peace of being there at the lake.
Just a moment of ease to bring a smile to my face.