From Stephanie Platter

THE MUSE
Writing is instinct, impulse, catharsis. It’s wordsmithing the poetry of every day happenings mixed with the prose of perfect wonderment. How does anyone deal with anything in life without a pen in hand? Stephanie Platter is a teacher, writer, singer, film critic. She learned to love coffee on the rain-stained street corners of Seattle. She learned to love people in church. For her, nothing beats fresh mountain air and sunrises, except maybe a meltably well-crafted sentence or a movie that makes her cry. Visit her movie review site: splatteronfilm.wordpress.com

If I only had the nerve

The swarthy tones mingled long and loud over the packed multipurpose room that late Saturday afternoon for the boy who stood playing the Beast. It had taken him hours to assemble himself that day. Girls swooned in silent corners watching as the one lucky makeup girl, who had volunteered months before so as to simply…

Snap peas

Reject the notion that you are not enough. Or that you are too much. Or that you don’t have what it takes. Reject all the lies that you are tempted to believe, and begin the adventure of knowing that it’s okay to be you, exactly as you are now, in your shoes, in your skin,…

“Moonless Darkness Stands Between” 

In The Perks of Being a Wallflower, a small motley troop of friends offers gifts that prove they’ve been listening to one another, that they care about each other’s details and dreams. If only all gifts could say what we want them to, could show our deep affection, could bless and enrich another for life.…

I See Myself

I see myself in the stream up the mountain behind the log cabin in the drenched living woods of the Northwest.   I see myself in the standing wheat, long and perfectly even like matchsticks. The wheat becomes waves and I am both Midwest and west coast. I am warm wind and misty rain. I…

A cap full of coals

I had an unhealthy friendship in junior high, a girl called Kate. I think I was fascinated by her ability to wield popularity as power over peers. Like the kid with the fancy fruit roll up who can take the fruit cup kid out with a glance. Kate’s voice commanded dominance as she led her…

Forgive and forget…and dance

Todd was abusive. Kate was a gossip. Laurel was downright needy. Life was tough in the fifth grade. My mother hated the slang that came from having fifth grade friends. Let one juicy almost swear tingle on the tip of your tongue too long and she’ll sense it. “We don’t say shucks or darn or…

See those clouds over there?

In junior high I made a tornado machine. For the science fair, I was determined to do something showstopping, something smashing. No clay-made volcano of baking soda and vinegar explosions would suffice. Our summers growing up were often spent driving to and from Minnesota so my mother could help on the farm. I assumed in…

Shoot the Moon

Stay singleminded. Focus. Be confident. Follow the heat. Run like your life depends upon it. But don’t get cocky. There’s always going to be somebody better, but strive to be the best. Follow your dreams. If your tired of giving up, stop quitting and make your dreams come true. Shoot for the moon, miss and…

Hope is Gold

RETREAT IS ESCAPE from the clutches of have-to Indulgent reward for the business of must-do The harrowing footsteps down library corridors Chasing down knowledge from book binds and test scores     Success is revision of many mistakes So summer the swimming of so many lakes Retreat is retrieving the bygones and times Of floating…

What He Fought For

I WONDER WHAT HE THOUGHT as he walked onto that cold grey-washed battleship. The gangplank long and ominous from shore to dock to deck onboard with tiny windows evenly dotting each level. Smoke stacks tall and towering met rails with lined edges and rope cords hanging like jewelry.  The Pearl was an odd concrete brick block…

The One With the Steak Dinner

I love the Y. Early in the morning, almost empty, I’m the youngest one in the changing area and the first one in the water. They like to call me “little girl.” Could be derogatory. I choose to believe it’s endearing, that they think I am endearing. The water is cold at first. Slow wade…

I am the tree fort

THE SHIRE SITS mid-mountain on the rise, home to my sweet hobbit parents. It’s there in the woods where I learned to make camp, play house, and build four walls with my imagination into any space available. A giant evergreen grows in front, jutting out from the ridge. It used to scare me in its…

Keeping Time

WOE TO THE waiting The riskers for taking For thinking too seriously I’ve mustered and busted And cornered and clustered And wrestled with moments like these The stuff of life begs and it pleads for attention The thief steals creativity That cruel spy is timing To ruin and live by I’ve rushed and I’ve hustled…

Book Ends

GOG AND MAGOG. THE PORCELAIN NOSES of the two opposing lions posed staring at the ceiling for what must have felt a decade. Their postures sure. Their motives steadfast.  First and last, beginning end, alpha omega. Never the leaders of any pack, they preferred to sit and ponder the world. Philosopher cats. The interior worlds within…

Laptop Confessional

Confession: Facebook, Instagram, Snapchat, even Twitter. I can’t stop looking. I know in my soul that it’s so many baby pictures and SNL retweets. It’s rainbow pics snapped from the Ballard bridge and last night’s dinner. But I can’t help it. What if it’s more? What if that guy I liked in ninth grade got…

A Litany of Blessing

BILLY COLLINS WROTE A POEM about seeking or searching, something about a gorilla he discovered while reading a book about architecture. It’s kind of about seeing details, finding something meaningful when you least expect it. I know I shouldn’t, but I see all of his poems like this, hidden deep metaphors below layers of sarcastically painted…

It Started on Tip-Toes

Well, you have to begin sometime. I think you’ll need practice in order for it to look real. I’m sorry to do this. I know you’ve been homeschooled and I bet this is your first kiss. Isn’t it? Yes, I nodded in disbelief at my beloved drama teacher. Homeschooling comes with some well-earned stereotyping for…

Belonging

“You belong. Strong people moved to this land, worked hard, and struggled so you could live, so you could belong.” Each summer my mother said this over the gravestones of her ancestors, honoring those who went before us, were buried deep under the land they loved, and left a legacy for us to live up…

Harry Gets a Pedicure

Harry lingered over the single serving TV dinners and pondered the colloquial reference to TV dinners and how they must have come up with that in the 50’s when families first got tvs and would sit in front of the only shows that aired. The Ed Sullivan Show. Maybe I Love Lucy. Harry knew he…

Toothless

I would touch my tongue to the metallic spot in my mouth over and over. The hole was like a Sandcastle moat filling up with the tide. For three days straight I think I spent every second in my second grade class steadily wiggling that front lower tooth. While Amy Johnson galloped an endless merry-go-round…