Thursday, September 26, 2013

Poem - Autumn

I love autumn so I wrote a poem about it several years ago. However, I recently tweaked a bit and thought I would share.



Autumn 
by Krystina Grant

The evening air grows crisp
The days become short
An the nights longer

Green leaves on trees
Give way to brilliant shades of color
Reds, oranges and golden yellow
Falling down like gentle snow
To cover the ground

Apples and pumpkins are everywhere
A reminder the Holidays are coming
Ghostly goblins and turkeys
Signs of Halloween and Thanksgiving

But for me, I smell the cool air
Scented with cinnmon, apples and pumpkin pie spice
 welcome the change in season
I welcome the days of Autumn . . .

September 26, 2006

Wednesday, September 25, 2013

Dynamics of a Fight - Flash Non-Fiction

This is my recollection of this event. When faced with trauma the mind's memory makes it fuzzy, as self protection to go on with life, or it did for me.

Dynamics of a Fight
by  Krystina Grant

It had been a yelling match at first. The computer room was supposed to get turned into a nursery and the computer desk was supposed to be moved into their room. But help left and she was furious that it didn’t get done. Plus the argument continued on.

“I’m calling my mom!” she said and went to the phone in the computer room.

He tried to stop her and supposedly had pinched his finger. But suddenly he was hitting her back, her shoulders . . . She was too stunned at first, but it wasn’t long before she tried fighting back, but she was facing the computer. The memory was blurry on how, but she was able to get out of the room. However the fight continued. She was no challenge for someone that had been in the military and she struggled against him as much as she could.

Eventually he had her pinned to the floor, holding her still as she cried hysterically. Finally, he let her up. Barely remembering what she said.

“Hit me again and you will never see this baby. The court is not going to give visitation to someone that would hit a woman who is six months pregnant.”

She went to the bed, laid down and cried more. But he never touch her violently again.

Monday, September 16, 2013

Flash Fiction - Is Tonight the Night?

Is It the Night?
by Krystina Grant

Bryan was thrilled to be able to hold Marissa so close as they sat on her couch watching “Sherlock Holmes.” That was something he appreciated about her. He had been willing to sit through “Letters from Juliet,” because he knew it was one of her favorite movies. But she loved action movies more than chick flicks. 

She snuggled closer to him and tenderly she kissed his cheek. He smiled and turned his body so that he could kiss her in return, but on her lips. Surprisingly, the kiss grew in intensity and his fingers wove into her hair, pulling her gently closer to him. He loved the feel of her body against his. He had wanted her so badly and now he felt as if he could finally make her completely his. His hand started roaming down her side and touching her breast.

“I want you,” he whispered in her ear.

“I want you too . . .”

“Then let’s go to your bedroom,” he replied.

“We can’t,” she said softly.

“Why not?” he said with surprise. “Are you afraid?”

“No,” she replied with a shake of her head. “I started today.”

He groaned.

(Flash fiction is a short story of 300 words or less. It also has to have some kind of twist to it)

Sunday, September 15, 2013

Poem - Blessed Life

Blessed Life
by Krystina Grant

September 15, 2013

I wake up and smile,
Like I have never smiled before

Every day brings something new . . .
Something to love, learn or appreciate . . .
My life once so dark for so long
Has exploded with light!

Never did I imagine my world
Would be so bright

So blessed am I for every moment
For every day I live . . .
I feel as if I am a rose
Blooming in the sun
After a long, cold winter

The frost is gone
The pain has ebbed away

What’s left
Is a beautiful life

Saturday, September 14, 2013

Poem - Bipolarity

This was written from the experience of  my mood swings since I am Bipolar II. I wrote this a long time ago before my meds were working as well as they do now.


Bipolarity
by Krystina Grant
_________

Up and Down
Up and Down
Around Around Around

Up and Down
Up and Down
Spiraling to the ground . . .

One moment up
Flying high in the sky

The next crashing down
Hitting the ground to cry . . .

Happy
Sad
Angry tears
Laughs, Cries, Shouts
On and on it goes

Up and Down
Up and Down
Around Around Around . . .

October 28, 2008

Friday, September 13, 2013

Poem - Childhood Dreams

Childhood Dreams
by Krystina Grant _______________


Golden light dampened
By the actions of others

Childhood dreams
Of perfect parties

Dashed . . .

By two selfish girls

But light prevailed
Dreams achieved
The party saved!

The Golden light returned

Even those who chose to bring darkness
Cannot snuff out
The endless enthusiasm that is

Childhood dreams!


November 17, 2008

Wednesday, September 11, 2013

The Day That Changed America - Poem

The Day That Changed America
by Krystina Grant
__________________________

I remember this day
So long ago

Planes
The Twin Towers
Fire
Death

But what was meant to break us apart
Only strengthened us
Our flags flew everywhere the very next day!
Reminding us that we were a country
Meant to stand together
And we did . . .

9/11 our Patriots Day
Will never be forgotten

September 11, 2013

Tuesday, September 10, 2013

The Price of Life - Poem

Price of Life
by Krystina Grant
__________

For everything there is a price
A cost of mind, heart or soul
Friendship, love, life . . .
And sometimes
The Price is darkness . . .
Pain
With no way to escape . . .
Is the price worth the pain?
Is it worth the darkness?

December 5, 2008

Saturday, September 7, 2013

A Writer in the Works by Olivia Stark

A writer in the Works
By Olivia Stark

There have been many stops and starts, not to mention set-backs, for this aspiring author; but she continues to endure.

Born to a young mother, and adopted at three days old by Harold and Helen robinson, Krystina Grant grew up in San Diego, California as an only child. She had four older siblings, three brothers and a sister, who had already grown, at least physically.

She never quite fit in with her adoptive family. She also wondered why there were never any pictures of her mother pregnant with her. Yet she didn’t learn of her birth parents until age 28, when she discovered a legal document of her father’s, which listed her as an adopted daughter. “It never came up, and when my nephew told me I was adopted, I apparently flipped out,” Grant said. “I’m thinking this was around the time my friend, Diane, was in the foster care system, and the people that were taking her in decided they didn’t want her and sent her back.”

Later in life, she started to believe she might have been the product of one of her father’s many affairs. But at 28, the truth finally came out.

“I was house-sitting with my then husband and our children, and they had a living trust done for them, and it was delivered by one of my brother’s girlfriends at the time. And I thought, okay, I don’t know what this is about and I don’t  care if I’m in it, but I wanted to find out how these kinds of things break down, so I decided, okay, I’m gonna read it.”

That was when the revelation came. “My name popped up on the first paragraph, and it listed me as “an adult adopted daughter.”

This time, her parents had no choice but to tell her the truth. Within a month, she found her birth mother. Within eight months, she located her birth father. She re-united with both parents, at least temporarily.

Grant’s passion for writing began at age 11, when she was assigned a two-chapter story. She wrote a twist on “Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs” called “The Nine Critters. The characters were based on the stuffed animals on her bed.

The following year, she and a friend were roll-playing a story. Her friend suggested they write it down. From there, she began script writing. 

“I could write for “Fantasy Island”, I could write “Battlestar Galactica”, I actually combined the two of them – it was a lot of fun.”

At 15, she began writing free-verse poetry, along with a comedy play she wrote with her best friend, Nicole Renee Bissett, that could have earned the two of them millions. It was called Love On the Socks”. Sadly, it never made the stage – yet.

Later in high school, she tried her hand at romance novels. She amused her class mates by writing short romance fictional stories coupling them with their favorite musicians or movie stars.

“I had a mad crush on Tom Selleck,” recalled her long-time best friend, Nicole Renee Bissett. “She wrote a really cool story about how I was a journalist and got together with him writing a story on him. Ironically, that was long before I ever even thought about becoming a journalist. Those were some fun times, and we needed fun times back then.”

Grant’s nine year marriage, which was stormy from nearly day one, ended in divorce. But out of it, she got two grown children, Jordan and Cassandra. She is currently living with her good friends, Jason and Susan Schneider, and her daughter, Cassie, in Spring Valley, California. She continues to edit her first novel, and is excited about the prospect of publishing.


To chat with Grant personally, you can email her at lillyblade@gmail.com  

Monday, September 2, 2013

Writing Exercise. Word Ice Queen


She couldn't believe it! The man actually had the nerve to call her ICE QUEEN?! She was stunned and furious. The man had been nothing but abusive during their stormy 10 year marriage; yelling, name calling, verbal put downs, emotional abuse . . . and even on occasions he'd hit her.

Emily Grant had stayed through it all, even though, if she'd been smart, she thought, she would have dumped him years ago. But then . . . she wouldn't have her children and she couldn't imagine her life without them.

But ICE QUEEN? It wasn't exactly unexpected that he'd try to instigate a fight with her upon bringing the kids back after his weekend visitation. Usually it was something to do with the kids; like spots on the clothes, or that she didn't pack the clothes they needed or something or other. It didn't matter to her because it seemed half the things she packed didn't come back anyway. So why send more??

But ICE QUEEN?? ICE QUEEN?? Over all the times he'd been an ass and had hurt her emotionally, verbally and physically, she'd NEVER denied him sex! HE was the one that wanted to jack off in front of his computer screen instead of coming to bed with her. So if she was the Ice Queen then he was the Court Jester, perferring images on a screen to her in the bed. What a boost to her self esteem THAT had been!

It was after the birth of their second child . . . a little girl . . . she decided that enough was enough. She didn't want her daughter growing up and finding a man just like her father. Emily didn't wish that for her daughter and she prayed that it wasn't too late for their son, who was six at the time of his sister's birth. Two years later, they'd been in court; court order for visitation and all that fun stuff. He had never gotten over the fact that she had DUMPED him.

THAT was what the continued abuse was all about. She knew it, but it didn't make her feel any better. He was sore that she left him. He was sore that she didn't love him anymore or want to be with him. 'Gee, I wonder why that would be,' she thought sarcastically to herself. 'Why wouldn't I want to stay with such a charmer!!'

Though he was gone, the tiff replayed in her mind. The bastard had the nerve to call her an Ice Queen as if SHE had been responsible for their divorce. It had nothing to do with him being an abusive jerk! Nope! Couldn't be!

Eventually, her daughter, who was now 4 years old came up to her.

"Momma?" she said with concerned eyes.

"I'm, okay, baby doll," Emily smiled as she picked her up and put her on her lap. "Mommy was just thinking about something. But don't you worry . . . everything's fine."

"Can we have pizza?" she asked.

Emily smiled.

"I think Pizza is an excellent idea! What kind do you want?"

"CHEESE!"

"Okay, we get half pepperoni for your brother and cheese for us," she said.

"YAY!!" the little girl squealed in delight.

For the moment, the argument was pushed into the back of her mind. She had more important things to focus on.