Archive for the ‘Creative Writing’ Category
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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Slowly Motioning
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At the lake
moving slowly
family
generations
friends
food
fun
laughter
stories
memories
hugs
tricks
napping
dogs
noise
sunshine
water
wind
clouds
sand
birds
grass
games
plans
groceries
treats
books
cards
chips
Tripoly
ice
cake
snacks
cookies
revelry
teaching
telling
talking
walking
waiting
reading
grilling
steak
smoke
barking
driving
inflatables
towels
speedboat
waves
kayaks
paddle boards
photos
basketball
sleep
sweetness
whatever
writing
listening
and a whole lotta love
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Crazy
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yes
it feels crazy
like my storage is almost full
like my tires are getting thin
like grass growing faster than time
time that warps
unapologetically
the way water flows
unrelenting
the way love transcends
mysterious –yet not
not at all really
universal
like smiles
a language no one doesn’t understand
coming through loud and clear
without making
a single sound
unencumbered
by crass ulterior motives
seeking financial gain
just love
smiling
feeling
kind of
crazy
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The Lyrics
For those of you who didn’t have time to sit through the slide show of the song I wrote, and also for me, because I have a hard time remembering all the words… here are the lyrics to “The Middle of June.”
What if it fit in the form of a perfect song?
The trial of surviving a ride through a daylong storm?
Some things come ’round only one time a year
You need to grab and hold tight or chance missing the magic parts
That live in the stories and sweet spots of our minds
You know so many friends who can’t fathom that you do this
And fashioned a bond with the rest of us
Who’ve joined you once again
It’s the middle of June
And here I go again
I’m getting back on my bike
To go Jaunting with Jim
You might call it neurotic, that pallid look that arises
When all too quickly I discover my time for packing has expired
And I’m suddenly in some form of campground in some outstate small town
The faces are familiar, though sometimes names come too slow
A ritual of pack and lock the auto, a parting glimpse to ways of yore
You can watch it as it blossoms and the trip so deftly is born
It’s so great to see you, tell me how have you been
I want to share within your laughter and bow my head to hear your tears
Who is it brought a new bike there, who hasn’t changed theirs in twenty years?
If you put a piece of tape there it might work fine, just look at his
Can I be your tent neighbor, will you snore more than me?
Once I’m packed in the morning, I’ll have much more than I meant to bring
How can that be Jim’s whistle? Good morning right back at you
Do I wear the new tights yet or will it be 95 degrees?
I can’t see yet if it’s cloudy, nor discern if there’s any wind
Where’d I put my water bottles and oh my god do I have to pee
We thank you oh Conductor for this special opportunity
Please forgive me if I waver and consider a jaunt to a B & B
We eat like we think we have to, then have some more when it tastes so good
Wait in line to use a restroom and see our bottles all start out full
Then just repeat Jim’s instructions, did he say 59 not 23?
We’ll snack in eighteen hill-free miles, can it be this easy?
The road just rolls past our tires, “On your left” so you say
Who’s that singing while they’re riding? Haven’t you passed me twice today?
We fan out across the horizon, dodging roadkill and debris
Shouting Gravel! Hole! & Bump! while speaking with whomever we happen to be
We notice wild flowers ‘tween the farm fields, gaze on lakes as well as woods
Wave at gawking rural town folk and race with dogs past the point they should
It isn’t always smooth sunny tailwinds, yet it always ends up manageable
And we should out the joys of elation the sight a water tower can tend to bring
Soon one day gets confused with others, it’s hard to say where we’ve been when
I remember bits of one funny incident, though in which town I can’t quite claim
Shared meals more than nourish us, joint accomplishments give common bond
Communal showering to humbles us and ties like family are coming on
Mere words can’t describe it, when you ride with us then you know
After years of having done this, it gets more important for me to go
All too soon the trip is over, the time just comes, the dancing’s done
Bittersweet to reach the start again, don’t want to stop, can’t wait to get home
What will it feel like back in my bed again, how’ll I do riding on my own
I’ll pretend to hear a morning whistle, the sound of tent poles breaking down
But I’ll rarely find convenience, such as the freedom from planning out
All the details of my day’s plan, as on Jim’s annual ride around
It’s the middle of June
And here we go again
We’re getting back on our bikes
To go Jaunting with Jim
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Mood
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maybe it’s this mood I’m in
that has me feeling this way
falling head over heels
for another character
Anna Kendrick played
in a movie
and getting floored
by every song
on a John Hiatt album
from deep in the stack
when did we get this old
that we look like our parents
or some of us
like our grandparents
slogging away
at the day to day
letting time sail past
unaware how it pulls
us along on the crest
flying through moods
as they materialize
conjured from unlikely sources
a dream
a picture
a thought I once had
a dog I just remembered
from a long time ago
it’s all Jello
in different colors
before photo manipulation was all the rage
but it can’t be retrieved
no matter how long we wait
so we wrestle with the trick
of figuring out how it’s still connected
with this particular minute
and I wonder what it has to do
with this mood I still find myself in
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Value
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If I’d had a chance
to think of that
maybe I would
who can say?
a picture on the wall
painted as art
worth more than the house
to the right beholding eye
a simple line
and a dot
some colors
not all that good together
from what I could see
but somewhere along the line
the painter became a name
and value simply followed
like rain drops rolling together
into larger and larger pools
into streams flowing down
dollar signs piling up
suddenly a picture
becomes like diamonds
a fancy kind of watch
melted bars of gold
they are things that don’t really matter
unless people decide they do
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Relative Something 