Archive for the ‘Creative Writing’ Category
Revisiting: Afternoon
This afternoon we reach the autumnal equinox, marking the transition to the half of the year when days are shorter than the nights. Summer is over folks. Move along.
As IF!
Nope. Today the forecast is predicting high heat and humidity. Near record temperatures, in fact.
No flannel required.
I stumbled upon my Words on Images called “Afternoon” in my media library last night. I’ve decided to reprise it, in tribute to the delightful days of summer we’ve been blessed with this year.
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Words on Images
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Hmmmmmmmmm.
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Again
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now what is happening
to make everything alright
to change the outcome
to illuminate the night
in lieu of alternatives
in light of more spite
take this little guitar
or it might be a uke
that thought it was a violin
not made out of wood
more like an animal skin
rounded out hollow
one song still within
that it played by itself
oozing memories for others
with fragments that make sense
mostly people
not the places
a door slams me awake
and it’s over
without warning
leaving the sound of the wind
and an endless drone
all crickets and frogs
the very place things begin
there’s a sheet
under there somewhere
bunched and tangled
I smooth it out
then pull up the covers
I’d like to start over
again
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Three Chicks
With John and Cyndie still up north, the chickens will take their turn at guest-blogging for a day. Hold your applause until you’ve actually read their scratching.
Still Surviving
Barred.1: Is this thing on?
Buff: We are typing this out silly, not clucking.
Barred.2: Run away!
Barred.2: Oh. Never mind. Thought I saw the dog.
Barred.1: Please don’t keep doing that. You trigger memories of the massacre.
Buff: Do John’s blog readers know about six/sixteen? Oh how we miss our lost sisters.
Barred.1 & 2 at the same time: [unintelligible]
Buff: But we still have each other.
Barred.2: And we have our safe tree over John’s compost piles, despite their efforts to convince us otherwise.
Barred.1: Why won’t they let us roost there over night? It saved me back on six/sixteen!
Buff: I think they are afraid that snazzy coop John built might go to waste if we don’t sleep in it overnight.
Barred.2: Seems like as soon as you convinced me to join you in that tree they started knocking us out of it with brooms.
Buff: I heard John and Cyndie talking about getting more chickens. I’m not sure what I think about that. She raised us since we were a day old. How do we just accept a flock of strangers into our space?
Barred.1: But maybe they will know how to lay eggs. Then maybe Cyndie would take out those neon plastic ones from the nest boxes that she thought would help us figure it out.
Barred.2: Eggs! Do we have to? I thought we were just supposed to eat bugs. Lord knows, they have enough of them.
Buff: OMG. I can’t eat enough to give those horses a break. The biting flies were harassing them something awful the other day. Legacy almost squished me when he was stomping to shake them loose.
Barred.2: Well, Cyndie has been trying to coax us to the coop at dusk with so many raspberries, I worry about my figure if eat insects all day too.
Barred.1: [squawk!] Hah! I know! But she’s so cute with her sweet little-girl cooing voice, I can’t resist.
Buff: Were we supposed to be writing something for the blog?
Barred.1: What’s a blog?
Barred.2: Some relative thing John does in his spare time, I think.
Buff: They are supposed to be home tonight. We can ask him then.
Barred.2: Can you wait until Cyndie serves up bedtime treats before you ask?
Barred.1: You’re such a chicken.
Barred.2: Takes one to know one.
Buff: [buc booaaaack!]
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Dog Speak
John is out of town for the weekend and has asked the animals to fill in for him for a few days. Today, Delilah gets a chance to “bark,” and to do so without John or Cyndie hollering, “NO!” at her every time she does.
I Didn’t Mean To…
First, I just need to say, that joke about, “Squirrel!!,” …it’s really getting old. I’m sorry if we canines have a heightened sense of chase instinct. Other than that, hello! and consider this my face-wash of a happy dog greeting! There is so much to tell you about now that John has given me this unprecedented access to his blog thingie.
Did you know he asked the cat, Pequenita, to write for today before he asked me? I think he was just trying to be nice to her, because he sees how smitten she is with him. He absolutely knows I totally own her. That’s why he always feeds her first, trying to show me how high and mighty the little meow machine is around here. I see right through him. I can drape my paw over her back any time I want to and she just sits there with a stupid cat expression on her face.
She thinks she’s all that because she gets to roam free all night when I am imprisoned in my crate. Whatever.
What can I say? Dogs and cats. We are what we are.
Now, dogs and chickens… That’s another thing altogether. I didn’t mean to end that chicken’s life when I raced up and grabbed her with the soft grip I’m so practiced at using. When I do that to the baby rabbits around here, they never seem to have a problem with it.
I think the bird probably had a weak heart and couldn’t survive the excitement of seeing me up close. I’m a lot to handle, I know. I get that.
Hold on a second, I need to go bark at the window again. There’s nothing out there, but I still need to do this regularly to make a good impression. I mean, what if there was a rabbit/bird/squirrel/deer/cat/another rabbit/raccoon in the yard and I missed it? What would that do to my reputation?
I’m sorry if I’m panting too much. It gets to be a habit in the summer, between this thick coat I wear all the time and the pent up energy from confinement. Yeah, I brought that full-time leash rule on myself. I admit it.
A girl’s gotta run, you know. And when you’ve got legs like these… combined with my nose! Oy! I don’t blame John & Cyndie for their precaution. <yawn>
Squirrel!!
Dammit. Pretend you didn’t just see that.
I was doing so good for a while there, too. You should know, it’s taken all I can muster to paw out these human-like word sentence things and not just type, “Are they home yet, are they home yet, are they home yet…”
It’s a dog’s life, I tell ya. <bark! bark, bark!>
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Neighing In
John is out of town for the weekend, and he didn’t want to bring his computer –in order to keep his travels light for flying– so he has asked the animals to fill in for him for a few days. It’s the least they could do, in the face of all the loving care he bestows on them day after day…
The Herd Makes Themselves Heard
Hunter: I’d like–
Legacy: I’ll do the talking, thank you very much. [The three chestnuts instantly defer.] Since John is gone again, we are happy to cover for him on this crazy blog thing he is always pondering on. We can hardly get a word in edgewise through his busy brain when he is toiling away among us because he is constantly ruminating over what wild, exaggerated story he can make up about our behavior.
What? You didn’t think I knew the word ruminating? Flbbblllbbbbhh. Excuse me. I had something in my nose.
Hunter: Can I–
Cayenne: Pardon me, but are we going to graze out in the pasture soon?
Legacy: As I was saying, the stories John writes about us are all blown way out of proportion. The man has no sense of scale. If he would just quiet his mind long enough to recognize the simple intricacies of what we would like to teach him, the tall tales he spins would come back down to earth and finally speak to the wider audience we think our messages deserve.
Hunter: Don’t you–
Dezirea: I just noticed some movement up on that hill beyond the neighbor’s outbuildings. Are any of you concerned?
Legacy: If John would spend a little more time making sure our hay was out here before we want it, and not after, I wouldn’t have to spend so much time staring him down when he walks by. And what the heck is it about his fascination with our feces? But enough about him. I can’t say enough good things about Cyndie. Imagine the things we could accomplish together if she would stop asking all those doctors to do surgeries on her joints. I worry that she might run out of limbs to repair and decide to start in on my aching knobby knees. <cracking sounds>
Hunter: I–
Legacy: Honestly, I’m not the complainer this is starting to make me seem. It’s been a while since I had access to such a wide audience and some of those issues hadn’t been purged for a while. I guess it’s time I should get the herd back to grazing. This place really is a paradise. [Nickering of agreement from the chestnuts.] If you ever have a chance to visit here someday, we would love to meet you. Wintervale is radiating with love and affection. We, the herd, are thrilled to be a part of this great adventure John and Cyndie have going.
As John might be heard to mutter on occasion, Namaste. If I could bring my hooves together in front of my chest, I would. Just picture me nodding my head up and down at you, with emphasis.
Hunter: Bye!
Legacy: I heard that.
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Relative Something 