Archive for the ‘Creative Writing’ Category
Editor Letter
when you write down what you think
in a screaming diatribe
about insanity running rampant
like a hurricane of class 5
and you notice people bristle
like the seeds of a prickly pine
it behooves thee to then ponder
if what happens is a sign
bringing you a simple message
is your logic there contained
to further an agenda
with a bellow so sustained
when a calming incantation
earns the pearl that can spell
greater glory and much brilliance
though it’s sometimes hard to tell
waiting for some little signal
of heads cooler that prevail
to prove to all concerned
the better choice will never fail
unless it’s overshadowed
by a craving with such gleam
driving all of your attention
toward some really fine ice cream
.
.
little teeny
bits of inspiration
float endlessly
by my eye
but sometimes
tend to defy
capture
landing just shy
my feeble try
to weave with words
a painting plied
with sounds as color
like a deep blue autumn sky
brown leaf that’s dry
intense red, but shy
for no particular reason
that would allow
logical explanation why
bother selling
something others
find simply hard to buy
.
.
Have You Ever Noticed
have you ever noticed
the energy swinging
around the space
that exists in the air
surrounding our heads
that enables the sound
of one particular song
to throw us back in time
to a room and its furniture
the window and those curtains
that have absolutely nothing
to do with the song
or the reason for remembering
how it sounded and where
we were when we heard it
that very time in which it clicked
and settled into some niche
within the catacombs of our mind
where we are whether we want to be or not
and no one else will see or hear
the totality of what is in there
regardless the methods tried
to share in story or song
or full-length feature moving picture show
the impressionist paintings
of dazzling detail we craft
in microscopic telepathic transcendental
neuropathic milliseconds for our
enrichment but also our personal hell
regardless the logic defying
reality of possibilities that our initial
perceptions were perhaps skewed
by the void we sensed
where pure sweet innocent love
was supposed to be shining
on its pillar of ultimate truth
but somehow
was not
Another Random Stream
The random word generator has been put into production for no other reason than simply the fact that there is no reason and therefore unmitigated silliness of the most nonsensical nature ensues for those of you with stomachs strong enough to slog through the seemingly limitless onslaught of useless rambling that is almost as painful as the wicked punishment unleashed by the television broadcast industry when it allows their all too valuable incoming financial gains from advertising to arrive via far too many versions of sales pitches associated with a certain holiday that happens pretty much most of the way into the month of December and far removed from the month of October when it all started this year unlike the smooth ‘less-is-more’ styling of years gone by which brings up the possibility that just because we are all one year older with each advancing year that goes by there must be some reason to always one-up the year before by trying more, sooner, longer, louder, bigger, faster and every other ‘er’ that relates in that regard and there goes the attempt to just leave out punctuation altogether here by needing to separate all those ‘er’s in making a point about why in the heck everything seems to need to out-do the time before and all too often folks can’t allow there to be the satisfaction of having something be just as simply good and fine as it was the previous time we enjoyed the pleasures of whatever it is we hold dear when all the world around us is crashing down in over-hyped melodrama because for some reason simply making a point isn’t good enough anymore without the extreme outlying fatalistic possibilities being threatened at every turn while the baby slides out the door with the bath water while we forget to sing together around the piano with a libation in worship of the humble act of fellowship with other actual human beings whose faces are seen not just on a book and people hold each other dear for years and then even decades from which threads become woven into a rich fabric with strength that supports in times when it is most needed like when the myriad of material possessions being hawked for our vanity finally proves entirely counter-productive toward soothing the longing that originates deep in a primordial place in our biology that was meant to drive our survival mechanism when there wasn’t anything but sticks and stones and carnivorous predators sharing the territory with our little selves to help us feel loved and worthy and hardly at risk of being harmed by someone else getting more attention than us especially when someone like Tina Turner can continue to entertain huge numbers of fans as if she was no where near achieving her 70th birthday this month which sure seems different than what 70-year-old women were doing when I was a boy and that sure says something about the fine art of keepin’ on keepin’ on if you know what I mean and I sure hope you do if you hung on this long to arrive at this destination which for all intents and purposes is in fact pretty darn similar to that place they call nowhere.
untitled, just because
and then
there was the time
and time again
when things didn’t go
quite the way
we did intend
as if what we are waiting for
isn’t simply hiding
just around the bend
in a place that’s twice as real
as the one inside our heads
unlike what we read in books
about any wild thing
never happening to us
that we compare with our life
of normal happenstance
harrowing familial dance
and every daily grind
to see the pieces we use
to frame our reference
to build a psychic fence
we know we have to climb
from which we then feel fear
for what we might see
on the other side
of the inside of ourselves
we hardly intend to reveal
even though we always do
every single day
by saying what we say
and saying it in a way
that paints us every day
with our own broad brush, okay
Normal Thinking
The difference between dysfunctional and normal is relative to how you frame it.
It makes sense that it applies to the usual, typical, or expected. How often have we heard a qualification about someone’s strange behavior being okay because they have always been that way; that is normal for them. But then the definition above goes on to reveal that when the word pertains to a person, it describes freedom from disorders, physical or mental. So, when someone is not free from making bad decisions, and they always do it, their behavior is normal for them, but it is not normal behavior for people in general.
Have you ever experienced the phenomena where a simple word you are reading or trying to write suddenly looks entirely foreign, like, “That can’t possibly be how it’s spelled?” Or, “Is that even a word!?” …Is that normal?
How come, during the work week, when I wake up, if I linger under those warm covers for just a moment, plotting how I will get a leg out and inspire the rest of me to follow, I can fall back to sleep in an instant, yet when I wake at approximately the same time on a weekend, my mind takes off on some amazing adventure-train of thought at record pace, leaving sleep behind in the distance? That’s normal for me, but is it normal?
Maybe I’ll go see if I can get the cat’s opinion on that.
Relative Something 