Archive for the ‘Creative Writing’ Category
Whatever Happens
.
whatever happens
don’t look down
past the unintended consequences
of all those forgone conclusions
left undone
time and again
while the evil genius villain
wraps his ultimate plan
around our world
despite our best intentions
for good to dispatch evil
once and for all
.
Tight Corners
There is something right around the corner and you can just sense that it will influence your otherwise uneventful experience of late. But there is no corner. Why do we say things like, “The corner of my mind?” Metaphoric corners are rolling around us all the time. The word “corner” looks just fine until you focus on the word “corn” and then you get that strange feeling that it doesn’t look like a correctly spelled word at all. How is it that our mind can suddenly see a group of characters of the alphabet in such a way that the word formed looks totally nonsensical? I have found myself pausing in disbelief at the word, “then” as if there were no way it could possibly be a word, even though logic led me to carry on as if it must be legitimate. This might explain why I have neglected to master a second language all these years. I can hardly maintain order in my head with the words of the language I grew up speaking.
Any credit for understanding the English language should go to my ears and the blessing of having parents who spoke properly. When rules of grammar were being taught in grade school, I quickly discovered that the correct answer was simply the one that sounded right to me. Unfortunately, that means I didn’t ever really memorize the actual rules of grammar. That will be visible in my writing style, where I often opt for choosing to lay out a sentence in a manner that reflects how it sounds to me when spoken, which sometimes turns out to be grammatically incorrect.
I still find myself occasionally choosing to follow a few grammar rules that result in written sentences sounding different than the way I would actually say things, but it is because there are times when doing so just reads better. I credit that to the reading I do and how I ‘hear’ the words written by professional journalists. I don’t know if everyone ‘listens’ to the words and sentences they read in their mind to the same extent that I do. (I think it makes me a slower reader.) I have a tendency to mimic what I see and hear, for better or worse. My writing will tend to reflect the writing of others that appeal to me.
When I edit, I don’t always know what is correct for a given sentence, but I usually sense when it just doesn’t sound right. I credit my parents for the way they spoke and also for their habit of having a radio or television on where I heard broadcasts of WCCO and dialects that most closely matched what I found to read in published works. I have no idea what led me to start thinking about things like corners of a mind or why I see things from a somewhat skewed vantage point at times. I guess it’s just a relative point of view. Relative to something.
A Rich Life
.
what did I do
on my day off
that started this holiday
weekend early
other than waking up
at the crack of dawn
to drive to the lake
with a stop at the bakery
arriving in time
to catch the second half
of a World Cup win
that shook things up
when a favorite fell
then head into town
to find out who owns
all those acres of woods
north of our place
where I love to roam
and have for years
but that now are posted
with “No Trespassing” signs
and while in town
stopping for a pizza
at the best place around
returning in time
imagine this
to see more World Cup
while playing guitar
and a game-ending drama
too wild to believe
so we took all that energy
down to the lodge
for games of our own
of classic ping-pong
then we fiddled about
nieces and nephews around
bringing full belly laughs
while the summer wind blew
floating sounds of the loon
such evocative tunes
and the table was set
as the grill charcoal primed
then a dinner feast next
more divine every time
it’s hard to conceive
how the same food again
tastes more fine every time
but that’s indeed how it goes
every day at the lake
where paradise glows
and divine defines life
yes that’s how it goes
richness of life
blessedly flows
.
.
Simple Acceptance
.
.
the simplest of simple things
sometimes slip
they sometimes slip right by
unnoticed
until later
why is it always later?
after the time is right
flowing under the bridge
a hope can fade from view
but simple things remain
flashing such brilliance
with understated flair
the downbeat of life’s song
a smile of genuine vision
an authentic happy thought
luminous radiance
accepted
some simple things
just deserve to be
simply accepted
.
.
Perceptions Past and Future
There are times I feel that if I became aware there were 10 minutes left in my conscious existence, I could sit in one place and allow the final seconds to pass without even realizing it. I find it interesting that having such a thought doesn’t awaken the least bit of inspiration to act toward altering the likelihood of such an outcome.
Meanwhile, looking at past evidence of how many times I haven’t failed to act on life situations tells me my perception and actually reality are not entirely aligned.
There’s always the future to consider. The following is an excerpt I wrote for a nonsense item of silliness where each post begins with the words, “In the future…”
In the future, when people’s opinions about themselves happen to approach an order of magnitude either above or below the opinions held about them by their immediate audience, the tiniest hairs on the backs of their main sensory processing lobes will warn them that if they continue to remain oblivious to the obvious evidence bouncing back at them from said audience, the good judgment of the incredibly reasonable people of the world, which as luck will have it – will have combined into a free-floating cloud of goodness that roams the planet as an incredibly helpful resource for just these kinds of situations, will strike in a lightning-like bolt of insight that stings like the dickens up and down the spine, and the inside of the eyelids will appear a blazingly brilliant, almost florescent pink on each blink. It will be great for those who have already mastered command of detecting their standing at any given time or situation.
Days
.
.
light rain
far from over
useless art
painted softly
mixed with time
under eaves
where leaves pile up
for days and a year
stretched tight
in a frame
a portrait
that captures
an edge of the wall
a pattern
of stain
a lifetime
of tears
.
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Relative Something 