And now a word . . .

Well, Jeniuses, it's been a year---well, a school year---and I hope the risks and challenges of creating these many blog posts have helped you to grow in the writing direction you were aiming toward.

As we all know, my commentary has not been as rich and flowing as your poetry and prose. [I hate that last sentence, and I may revise this post later, but I think you need to hear from me.] My goal for this course was to provide a forum for free-form exploration. And I did that for a reason: My own experience in high school was to have my initial efforts at creative writing stifled and overcorrected by a pedantic teacher who consistently found my plots "contrived" and my characters "unbelievable." Clearly, the expectation of her class was that my writing sound like her writing.

I want my writers to find their own voices. To experiment with genre. To find a particular turn of phrase. To discover their unique styles. To write like themselves.

And I think you have. Well, except for the part where you got lost in the wilderness. We are just teasing you, you know. And you would have "gotten away with it, too, if it hadn't been for" that pesky salmon!!!! But, you know----this is the first time all year, you tried to "do an assignment."

But when you write as yourselves----James, you are funny and succinct and get at the heart of human folly. Sara---you are wise and deep---truly a poet. And you are both---both---philosophers. Your writing takes us on a quest for meaning and takes the time to experience the joy that is in the journey. Thank you for being my students. I'm proud of you.

Just then . . .

. . . a slightly stooped, elderly-looking woman broke from the forest cover and approached the group.

"I have been listening to you kids caterwauling all up and down the river for the past week, and I can't take it anymore!" She wasn't so elderly as she first appeared, but she was definitely stooped, if only to more easily bear the weight of a ridiculously oversized backpack.

"Who are you?" Erin started to ask--

"It doesn't matter. Just please, please, please--just don't talk anymore. And if I hear that shriek one more time, I'm just gonna snap!"

With that, the woman snapped a few twigs, grabbed some pine straw, and in minutes had a crackling fire going. Like magic, she drew from the pack a gourmet camp kitchen and snapped out a fresh white linen tablecloth onto the ground. Dishes, forks, spoons, napkins flew around the cloth and in minutes it looked like the table-top of a five star restaurant.

As she strode briskly down to the water, the woman cast a disdainful glance in the direction of Blake and Adam who were just getting pathetic now, still whining and moaning over their various contusions. She grabbed the branch of a nearby shrub and tossed it to the boys.

"You might want to put some witch hazel on those cuts, then go help the girls gather up some fire wood. Jeez."

"Who is that?" the boys looked at each other and shrugged.

Adam and Blake, as beat up and disoriented as they were, didn't fail to take advantage of the retreating beast and got out of the water as fast as they could. Blake could feel his pulse beating through the veins in his head and had to sit down; with each beat, the aching grew stronger and stronger. "Oh, Blake! I'm so sorry!" said Erin. "It's ok... it's ok... I'll be fine." replied Blake slowly. Adam had several cuts on his foot, but was certainly in better condition than Blake. When Adam had caught his breath, he said: "Wow... wow, that was crazy! What are we supposed to do without a canoe?" At this he groaned and laid back down. Erin and Caitlin had gotten the med kit and were now doing what they could for the boys. After the wounds of both were dressed, and Blake loaded with ibuprofen, Erin and Caitlin helped Adam and Blake over to the fire. It was time to eat, and most importantly, figure out what they were going to do next.

Blake tried frantically to pull the salmon off of Adam's foot but the thing was latched on tighter than Rut's hand in a cookie jar. The monster lashed violently, cutting Blake's cheek. With one humungous slap of its tail, the salmon crushed the canoe. It shattered and floated down the river, piece by piece.

Caitlin and Erin rushed down to the shore to see the commotion. Caitlin let out a terrible, Tony-like shriek as the salmon tried to eat Adam. By instinct, Erin snatched a few rocks and tried to hit the beast. Almost every rock hit Blake in the forehead. She picked up a larger rock, about the size of a bowling ball. Blake, with a look of terror in his eye, tried to swim away from the target, which was difficult in the current. Caitlin pulled the rock behind her head and flung it forward. Blake caught it in his stomach but was able to recover and smash it into the salmon's face. The beast retreated, but for how long?

Ever since Caitlin had sent the salmon flying, he had been plotting his revenge quietly in the river. Sure, the girl had sent him away to lick his wounds, but he knew he'd get them back in due time. After all, he had only wanted to play with them before. And how did they thank him? By nearly killing him! He expected he'd only have the opportunity to snatch one of their paddles away, or merely cause some turbulence in their travels, but this new development opened up a whole new world of possibilities. When he looked up and saw Adam falling at him, everything seemed to move in slow motion. His eyes widened, a true feat. for a salmon, and he knew this was his moment. The boy broke the surface of the water, and the salmon seized his opportunity, latching onto Adam's foot.

The morning came too fast for Blake. Without realizing it, he fell asleep on the rock as the group was stargazing. He woke up a little chilled and confused. A blanket of leaves, dirt, and moss mysteriously found its way on top of Blake. Evidently, the rest of the group didn't want to wake the sleeping babe, and decided to make him a makeshift bed sheet, instead. He rolled over, spilling his blanket onto the rock, and crawled to the edge.

He spied his friends, sitting around the fire, completely unaware. Like Tarzan or George of the Jungle, Blake leaped from the boulder and caught a tree branch. He pulled himself up and hid behind the leaves. The group below heard the acrobatics but disregarded it as any forest creature. Very sneakily, Blake hung upside down from the tree about 15 feet in the air. Adam walked by towards the river. In one swift motion Blake swung down from the tree, landed in a pouncing position, and tackled Adam into the water.

Blake resurfaced ready to gloat but Adam was still underwater. Puzzled, Blake stared at the bubbles floating to the surface where Adam would emerge. Adam suddenly popped up gasping for breathe.

"Something's got a hold of my foot!" he screamed as a fin cut through the surface of the water with a splash.

It was the salmon that Caitlin sent flying twenty feet in the air, back for revenge!

The quartet reached the opening, and it was quite a lovely place. There was a large boulder setting up along the hill, and Adam promptly bolted up to claim it as his own and check out the view. Blake proceeded to build a fire, Caitlin made sure that the boat and the supplies were all secured, and Erin pulled out a skillet to make dinner. They would have some of the fish they had caught earlier as well as a few provisions they brought from home. As they ate, they talked about the adventure the day had offered, how things were going in their lives, and made up crazy stories that made them laugh until their sides heart. All the while they could hear the wildlife hooting, stomping, climbing, scratching, sniffing, singing and calling all around them. It was peaceful, loud, calm, and exciting all at once; they just hoped that a bear wouldn't stumble upon them in the middle of the night. After a couple of hours at camp, the stars overhead captured Erin's attention. Blake caught her gaze and looked up as well. "Whoa," Blake uttered softly. Adam and Caitlin then looked up, and the same soft expressions of wonder fell from their lips. "We need to go up to that boulder I claimed earlier, the trees open up around it, and I think the view there will be absolutely brilliant." So, the four of them let the campfire burn down to embers so that they could keep an eye on it and it wouldn't burn completely out, grabbed a flashlight, and started for the boulder.

The quartet reached the opening, and it was quite a lovely place. There was a large boulder setting up along the hill, and Adam promptly bolted up to claim it as his own and check out the view. Blake proceeded to build a fire, Caitlin made sure that the boat and the supplies were all secured, and Erin pulled out a skillet to make dinner. They would have some of the fish they had caught earlier as well as a few provisions they brought from home. As they ate, they talked about the adventure the day had offered, how things were going in their lives, and made up crazy stories that made them laugh until their sides heart. All the while they could hear the wildlife hooting, stomping, climbing, scratching, sniffing, singing and calling all around them. It was peaceful, loud, calm, and exciting all at once; they just hoped that a bear wouldn't stumble upon them in the middle of the night. After a couple of hours at camp, the stars overhead captured Erin's attention. Blake caught her gaze and looked up as well. "Whoa," Blake uttered softly. Adam and Caitlin then looked up, and the same soft expressions of wonder fell from their lips. "We need to go up to that boulder I claimed earlier, the trees open up around it, and I think the view there will be absolutely brilliant." So, the four of them let the campfire burn down to embers so that they could keep an eye on it and it wouldn't burn completely out, grabbed a flashlight, and started for the boulder.

Blake began to daydream as he rested in the canoe. He thought of the last school year forever ago. He thought of all the people walking through the halls like mindless ants with one destination: their next class. He thought of his english teacher, who recommended Blake and his friends try writing an ongoing, collaborative series. Then he recalled the teacher never once commenting on the story and wondered if she even read the posts. A bald eagle overhead caught his attention and he looked towards the sky, the sun setting.

"We should set up camp pretty soon, here."

They'd been on the river since 3 p.m., after eating a late lunch. Adam turned the canoe towards an opening in the forest wall along the shore.

Caitlin erupted in a terrified scream as a salmon, the largest salmon any of them had ever seen, (which was quite a feat. because Blake had once won a fishing competition where he had caught a salmon weighing roughly thirty-five pounds) had jumped out of the water and latched on to her hand. Caitlin had been letting her fingertips glide along the water as they went, and this beast had mistaken them for some bug or another. The chaos that ensued was quite hilarious. Once Caitlin had screamed, they all began screaming, which soon turned to uncontrollable laughter by all memebers accept for Caitlin, who had just sent the monster flying twenty feet in the air in the opposite direction.
"What the heck is wrong with all of you?! That thing had my whole flippin' hand in it's mouth, and you're laughing?!"
This was all said in vain, however, because the other three were still laughing incredibly hard.
"Oh, it was so gross!"
This caused even more laughter to come about, and Caitlin finally joined in. Once they had regained some composure, they continued down the river in a very jovial mood and continued on their merry way.

The canoe glided down the river as Adam and Erin paddled effortlessly. The group was in no hurry. Blake and Caitlin offered to take the later shift and tried to find a comfortable resting position between the two paddlers. They soon realized, by tipping the canoe, there was no comfortable way to lie in a canoe without tipping. Blake instead sat on a bucket intended for the fish they would catch and Caitlin sat indian style.

Adam kept looking at the shorelines for giant rocks to claim. To claim a rock was to be the first to climb to the top of it. Once a rock was claimed it was by the claimer's invitation that one could join and jump from the rock to the river. This was a game Adam played with his older brothers. Adam, at this time, ruled over many a rock. Adam began talking the other's ears off about all the rocks he climbed but was interrupted by a giant splash starboard.

"Erin... why are we going on this trip?" The sudden question posed by Blake caught her off guard.

"Uhm, well, wasn't this your idea to begin with?" she replied.

"Well, yes. But, I mean, why are we really doing this? Is it for fun? Are we trying to prove something? What?" The slight urgency in Blake's voice surprised Erin. This was undoubtedly the work of Blake's father. He was always getting Blake worked up about things, even if he didn't intend to do so; Blake over-analyzed everything. Erin looked around her at the playful river, the sunshine, the forest stretching out along the banks that was undoubtedly full to the brim with wildlife, and then softly laughed when her eyes fell on Adam and Caitlin struggling with tethers on the canoe.

"Well Blake, I came on this trip to experience some adventure with my best friends who really know how to live life to the fullest. And who knows, maybe I'll learn something about myself along the way... Is that a sufficient answer for you?"

Blake smiled and shifted his eyes to the sky. "Yes. That is perfect."

Erin couldn't help but wonder what was going through Blake's mind in that moment; he was an enigma.

"Where do you think you're going?" His father's voice still rang in Blake's ears as he helped Adam get the canoe out into the water. The voice pierced his psyche. It wasn't that his father was too hard on him. His old man was always looking after for Blake, making sure his boy was growing up strong, healthy, and smart. What really troubled Blake about this question was he really did not have an answer.

"Why am I taking this trip?" he thought to himself. He looked at his friends, all anxious to start heading downstream. As soon as he proposed the idea of taking this long trip, they were all for it just like any good friends ought to be. Whether they were up for any kind of adventure or they had individual desires, Blake did not know.

     At the age of 17, Blake was young, adventurous, passionate, and not to mention a little bit reckless. His jet black hair and crystal blue eyes demanded anyone's attention, if only for a moment. To say he was the leader of this group would be an understatement. He had single-handedly convinced all three of them to come on this trip. Of course, none of them needed much convincing. Each of them possessed characteristics that Blake had always been drawn to, and each of them were all aware none of them could ask for better friends.
     Adam, a tall and muscular blonde of 17, was Blake's right hand man. Adam possessed wisdom far beyond his years and was often the voice of reason in Blake's ear. Even though Blake sometimes felt held-back by Adam, Adams wit, reason, and powerful brain often came in great use. Adam had also stopped Blake from doing things that would have gotten him into a world of trouble had he followed through. Blake knew this and, in spite of his faint annoyance with Adam at times, he was grateful to have Adam at his side. Adam and Blake had known each other since kindergarten and had been taking on the world together ever since.
     Erin, the youngest of the group but still 17, was a bold brunette who could take on the president in a debate if she wanted to. And yet, at times she was so calm that you would never know she was in the room. Erin wasn't bipolar by any means. In fact, her range of boldness and calmness ebbed and flowed together seamlessly. She knew how to handle any situation with a grace and a poise that few ever achieved in a lifetime. A fighter, a diplomat, a peace maker, and a breath of fresh air, Erin was the heart of the group.
     The voice that Caitlin possessed could set the actresses of broadway heart's ablaze with jealousy. A true dreamer, Caitlin possessed a passion for life that infused everything she did with joy. She brought hope to people in a very real way, and it was most likely in the way her green eyes radiated with the love that flowed in her veins, or the way she would hug anyone as if she had known them for years. Caitlin could win over anyone, and it would be in the utmost sincerity that she did it. Also 17, Caitlin had so much life ahead of her, and she would no doubt live it to the full. Caitlin was the dreamer and the joy.
     An extraordinary group indeed; it almost seemed as though, when they were all together, they were but one person. Each of their strengths complimented the others weaknesses, and they worked together in such a powerful way that no one who knew them doubted they could take over the world if they ever chose to. But, for now, it was the river that they would set out to conquer. The adventure that ensued would be one that they would remember for the rest of their lives. Then again, most everything they did was worth remembering forever.

Summer was ending beautifully. The sun, in full effect, warms the country but the nights are a bit chilly. Nothing a nice fire and a hand-me down sweatshirt can't help, though. These are the days kids spend as much time as they can outside for they know fall means less freedom and school. Most of the trees remain their greenish summer shade but a couple of the anxious ones were already turning. They freckle the hillsides, a dash of reddish purple. The sunsets of these days are the best all year. Especially on a river, winding, the colors streak the sky, mixing with the coloring trees descending down to the waters. The river meanders through the country, home to fish, ducks, and adventure.

Hey, why not?

Jeniuses: So glad to see you back on your game. I do so miss you when you're gone. Now listen to this----The Spektors and the Mutts have both tried writing ongoing collaborative serials with much success. In fact, the Spektors are at it right now! Their story is called The Game---you should check it out.

I thought maybe we could try something like that for a while. What do you think?

Pat is Superman

We put new gravel into our driveway

and now a pile sits by the basketball hoop.

I remember way back when we first got the gravel

my brother would hop on his bike

and start at the very top of the driveway.

Looking down the sloping smooth stretch

and the pile of gravel resting by the basketball hoop,

he would pedal as fast as he could

face full of determination and hopefully not ground.

He'd hit the pile of gravel and fly maybe 1 or 2 feet through the air,

but it was the most incredible thing I've ever seen.

Accidentally already posted as a comment . . .I'm sorry---

I can see that what I intended as a humorous post has ignited a firestorm of ripostes that I find myself unprepared to deal with. Jeniuses, I officially withdraw my pleas for posts, both direct and indirect and in the future will confine myself to only supportive and positive commentary such as---"of course, it's more important to focus on your REAL classes right now " and the occassional "wow, that's remarkable!"

What, What Is Wrong With the World Today?

bombarded with so many pitches
"you need this!"
"it's revolutionary!"
"this will change your life!"
"it's man-genic!"
who knew that consumerism
would run rampant
in an english class.

i think i'll just sit and drink (chocolate) milk
out of my plastic dora,
while i ponder this for awhile.
thank goodness my swop bot
will take care of the chores.

*Thank you to Flight of the Conchords for the borrowed title.*

Another Thing to Hate

A tumble weed rolls by and the dust is kicked up by a gust. It's quiet.

I stare down my enemy, teeth snarling.

I whisper the words, "Don't you dare."

But the flashing red numbers mock me,

and that pasty white plastic, so putrid and vulgar.

The serene, wonderful quietness will be interrupted, maybe.

For a few seconds I wonder, perhaps it is broken

perhaps I don't have to get out of bed.

But a wave of sound hits me.

Same old Bee Jee's beat startles me awake like an icy cold slap.

And I am helpless save for a lousy 7 minutes

my snooze button grants me.

Oh, If Only.

Forgive my inconsistencies.
I'm sorry I don't post
About how I'm graduating at the end of this year
In every other post
I'm sorry I don't talk about
How youtube doesn't load,
I'm sorry I don't write away
In a "let's insult the Jeniuses" mode.

Oh if only I had the brilliance,
That the Spektors seem to possess,
Maybe then Ms. Rut would like me,
And I wouldn't feel so stressed.

What gives? Seriously?

Okay---did the school year end and nobody told me? Somebody---and I'm not naming names here---Jamess and Sara----has forgotten to write for the last two weeks.

The Spektors have already declared victory!!!!! So sad that you don't care about the class.

What the?

And April 8th is even longer!

Sometimes when I miss you most

I miss you most when

you don't laugh

and don't show up

'cause you're in New York

and wander off

and go to gym class

But sometimes when I miss you

most there you are

right in front of me

as days go by

faces smiling

cracking wise

looking like everything's

normal

normal days

normal faces

normal laughter

normal normal normal normal

normal

April 9th

so far away

It's times like these

when I miss you most

I caught myself a' whistling

I caught myself a' whistling

a beautiful, American song

and low and behold my teacher

caught the tune and disappeared, gone.

And as I stopped at my locker,

the melody continued to ring.

for behind me, a couple kids

were walking and whistling.

From one to another the song caught on

like laughter, the flu or a yawn.

But after awhile we forgot the tune.

the song had disappeared, gone.

I walked home quiet and down,

the earth was quiet like a tragedy

But behind my green front door

my parents whistled the melody.

Excitedly I turned on the tube

and switched it to CNN

and low and behold the tune

was ringing out once again!

America for once was care free

the song carried on for miles

and upon the billions of faces,

I found my teacher with the biggest smile.

Surrounded By Greatness

Everyday,

I am surrounded by greatness.

More than I will ever be able to grasp.

Sometimes I fail to see it,

And sometimes I fail to appreciate it.

But I know it's there.

When I do see it,

When the revelation hits me from time to time,

I just have to stop.

I have to stop,

And sit in awe,

Of how blessed I am.

Because there are just so many people,

So many people,


Who have impacted my life.


Who have shaped the person I am,
Who I've become,


Who I will be.


And I am just so grateful,
So grateful,


To be in the presence of so many incredible people.


My life is so rich,
Because of so many.


Who am I to be so blessed?

Sorry Rut!

Oh my Rut,

I am sorry for my jokes with all my heart.

In choosing to be a jerk,

and failing to be mature,

I have offended you,

whom's class I should care about above all things.

I firmly intend, with your help,

to write creatively,

to be a tool no more,

and avoid whatever leads me to say, "Calm down."

I'm sorry.

Handlebars by Flobots

courtesy of youtube.com

This song is about the American dream. No matter how small you are or where you come from, you can grow up to be whatever you want. Corruption is a scary thing, though. Do we know how a person is affected when given incredible power? Do we know how we will act with that power?

Ode to Getting Deodorant on my Shirt.

From the haste after a short sleep,

the early morning following a late night,

stressing to get ready for the all important school day.

Stressed from having such a short sleep.

Like a freshly paved highway, the white strips of paint,

stretching for miles and miles through the magnificent country side.

The majestic hills and mountains, decorated by a ribbon,

The freshly paved highway and glistening white lines.

So much like the elegant forest creature,

its beautifully combed black hair covering its body

and that identifyingly brilliant stripe from its head to its tail,

just like that elegant creature.

And those old school chalkboards, blackboards,

the white chalk is an instrument for the wonderful art of the kids,

who so gleefully play tic-tac-toe and sketch monsters and bunnies.

The white chalk on the blackboard like that new highway.

My shirt, already raddy, could it take anymore carelessness?

My dexterity shot from coming across PA before a school day,

but I will take full responsibility for this horrid incident.

Oh my shirt, I am sorry.

In The Eight Seconds From the House to the Car.

As I left the house,

As I stepped outside,

Greeted with a subtle chill,
One that tip-toed up my spine,

I shivered.

Adjusting,

I breathed in deeply.

Smelling the fresh air,

Taking in its sweet taste,
Savoring every second.
It was the familiar aura of spring,
Of winter passing,
And new life entering the world.
A song then caught my ears,
One so spontaneous and sweet,
That I couldn't keep the smile from my face,
Or my eyes from the musicians,
Dancing and singing in their heaven.

Breaking away,
I looked up to to the sky.

To the west my eyes met the faint light,

Of fading stars.

To the east I was greeted with light,

Ascending over the horizon.


I paused for a moment,
To take everything in,
To appreciate the beauty and wonder,
Surrounding me.


A venture that typically took roughly eight seconds,
Turned into a moment that seemed to linger for hours.


Sometimes I open up my eyes to the world around me,
And experience life in its purest form,
Moments where I never feel more alive.

Breathing Easy

And as suddenly as it happened,

The boulder was lifted from my back.

The sun can shine directly on my makeup stained face

And I am able to relax and stand up straight

Without this burden weighing on me.

I'll spend the next few days on the couch.

A poem I wrote . . .

Reflection on a Dog I Saw in Sligo

A glorious sun surprise

After gray upon gray

Plays across winter worn lawns

Glorious

On Colerain Street

The usual route

To home and haven

Making my way through Sligo

Ironic little teacher’s-apple-red Jeep

Chariot to adventure

And back again

Or nowhere in particular

Trail rated

Good to know

Here on the trail

Behind the wheel

And suddenly

Out the right-side window

The grimy, grimy window

Pure exuberant joy

Prancing in the brown, brown grass

Now there’s something you don’t see every day

Beethoven wakes up

And actually plays that pipe organ himself

And the choirs sing

I roll the window down

And I don’t know

Is anyone behind?

Because someone else should see

A little dog frolic

All dressed up

In a rainbow suit

Fitting like a second skin

With sleeves.

KR 13 March 2010

courtesy of the youtube.

Tailgating!

Tailgating we will go

Oh tailgating we will go

Though the air is cold and all the snow

Tailgating we will go

Oh corn hole we will play

Yes corn hole we will play

And I will win and tony will cry

Yes corn hole we will play

The hot dogs we'll be grilling

The hot dogs we'll be grilling

We'll drown them in ketchup and mustard, oh boy!

The hot dogs we'll be grilling.

The frisbee will be soaring

The frisbee will be soaring

And hopefully not hit a car in the lot

The frisbee will be soaring.

And we will cheer for Ray

Yes we will cheer for Ray

To take our team to the champion game

Yes we will cheer for Ray.

Tailgating we will go

Yes tailgating we will go

Though the air is cold and all the snow

Yes tailgating we will go.

+1 for Junior Jeniuses

I was hit

By a freight train,

It struck me head on.

Like a fly and a fly swatter

I was consumed, overwhelmed, overpowered.

Like drowning in the Johnstown flood,

The murky waters reaching me, surrounding me, pulling me.

It surprised me

Like a gunshot in the woods.

I was disoriented.

And it never let up,

like the mist from the ocean waves

as they crash.

Remind me to never again

Walk by Room 115, 2nd period.

Those Night Spektors stink.

Someday.

Sitting on the corner,

The man knows no other home;

No other place of refuge.

If it can be called that.

The boxes, spoiled food, scarce change, and faces passing by,

Are all he knows.

And yet,

He is at peace.

He has his life, even if it's not much.

What more does he need?

He's surviving.

Out here he has family.

He never had that in "the real world."

And although he lost "everything."

He still has more than most.

He has his dreams,

And he still remembers how to sing;

How to hope.

Does he want to stay here?

No.
Someday he'll get out of this hole.
He'll remain optimistic.
If he ever gets the chance,
He'll work hard to change his life.


But for now,
He has to go find his next meal,
And see if he can get into the shelter tonight.


Someday he'll make it out.


Someday.

Dreaming of Summer

Clouds drift along in the sky.
I've always wished that I could fly.
The smell of freshly cut grass fills my nose.
The warmth of the sun sinks down to my toes.
Birds sing their songs, fly, and play tag.
I reach for the camera inside of my bag.
A butterfly lazily drifts along.
The radio is playing my favorite song.
Kites soar above the earth.
Beauty like this has such high worth.
Laughter fills the humid air.
Cold water splashes everywhere.
Wind chimes ring out loud and clear.
In these moments I know no fear.
I hold in my hand a sweet little note.
I think about words the great speaker spoke.
I'll be going out with good friends tonight.
In these moments I see that the world is alright.

Laziness

Another sleepless slumber wasted from the sudden chill.

I dread my constant shivering.

Oh how so very energetically I discharged

the useless blanket, so useless.

Silently I roll and crash onto the floor, shoulder first.

A strange realization occurs.

I have backtracked through evolution

to where I cannot stand up straight.

My body is too weak to support anything.

After a while of lying there face down, I am courageous enough

to continue my arduous journey to the kitchen.

Oh how so very lightheaded I felt when I finally stood up straight.

Another reason to stay on the couch.

And as if getting the toaster out isn't enough,

My eggo's are buried under crab legs galore. What a day.

Here Are A Couple More...

Cu(red)

They will tell you to be realistic.

They will tell you to manage your expectations.

They will tell you to set reasonable goals.

Refuse treatment.

Remain irreconcilably, incorrigibly in infected with hope,

and you will see things beyond your most impractical dreams.

* * *

Matu(red)

Every year, a tree draws a new ring around itself,

as if to say: See? There's more life in me than there used to be.

Maturity doesn't just mean you've weathered storms or survived drought.

It's about taking in more of everything:

more light, more rain, more of time's slow sweetness,

and giving something back.

If you've matured, you've expanded your circles.

I Miss You.

Once so full of life,

tragedy stole the light from your eyes.

You are so broken now;

a hollow shell of who you once were.

I can't blame you,

but I can't watch you destroy yourself in misery.

Sure, you say you're happy,

but your facade has always been thin.

Clinging to your bitterness and pain,
I'll leave you alone.


It's clear you don't wish to face your pain;
to overcome your strife.


The darkness brings you comfort now.
There's no room left for light.

Time Machine

There's nothing better than a time machine.

I go back where I wore tie dye tees.

Where rugrats and power rangers were king.

Where life was simpler, in the '90's.

There's nothing better than a time machine.

I go back where a man wears his first suit.

Where her dress is fit for a queen.

Where my parents were actually cute.

There's nothing better than a time machine.

I spy my dad's old baseball glove.

before he met the wonderful Pauline.

back to when he had hair above.

There's nothing better than a time machine.

Oh, how my mom has changed.

With braces and glasses, she was such a dainty thing.

It's no wonder she turned out so strange.

There's nothing better than a time machine.

If only the attic weren't so cold.

I'd stay for a little while longer.

And see what the future might hold.

When the Sun Speaks.

The sun's deep glow pulses across the sky,

and into my heart.

Deeper and deeper.

Into my heart.

He whispers this to me:

Come and bask in my beauty.

Let my soft warmth encompass you.

Soon, I will leave you for another night,

and the stars that you so desperately love,

will come and steal your wonder.

Gaze upon my canvas as I paint you a picture;

one that changes moment by moment.

Allow your mind to wander;

to seek out those deep and meaningful thoughts,

that set your heart ablaze.

The universe is at your back now; a glorious sight.

My time is nearly gone.

As I fade into the horizon,

take in the fullness of your heart,

and trust that I will rise again on a new day.

A day that brings a new story;

a fresh canvas all your own.

Just one moment more,

before you walk away,

and my rich glow fades into the night...

Until we meet again, my love.

Goodnight.

For Your Listening Pleasure...

Will there ever be . . .

another word

another phrase

another clever line or two

just one more episode

one more haunting poetic voice

or shared laugh

at times I think

it's all played out

the words arranged

in every combination

all the possibilities exhausted

at times I think

that there will never be

another word.

[This is just a little poem about writer's block and just being sick of it---I posted to all 3 blogs]

Because of Her...

Her body was old, but the life she possessed was invigorating.

Even I -the age of six at the time- don't know if I surpassed her.

Her strong faith was the fuel to her endless singing, her love for others, and her warm smile.

She showed me what loving others unconditionally looks like.

I was devastated when the cancer took her.

I dream of her singing sometimes when my mind turns dark.

I sing louder, and love deeper, because of her.

Quiet, sweet, and passionate about her profession,

this woman always cared.

She meant the world to me that year.

She listened, and I listened in return.

When I viewed myself as a lost cause,

she told me I brought joy to her life.

I desperately wonder how she's doing and where she's at.

I believe in myself, and in others, because of her.

A young and beautiful woman full of dreams, hope, and questions,

she opened my eyes to what was out there in the world.

I don't know if she knows it,

but I learned so much about myself while she was around.

The last time I spoke to her was nearly six months ago.

I miss her very much, but I'm thankful for the time I had.

I see life, and the world, in a different light because of her.

Genuinely caring about who she is as a person,

and those who she influences,

she has the power to impact lives.

She doesn't abuse this power.

Her optimism is so refreshing.

She is a true encourager.

I search for the good, and have more hope, in people because of her.

Loving me as one of her own,

I have been so blessed by this woman.

Her openness and transparency mean the world to me.

Unashamed of admitting her shortcomings,

she presses on with a passion to learn, love, and grow.

I could talk to her for hours and not tire of it.

Her passion and faith inspire my own.

I dream of a fuller life, and have a fuller life, because of her.

* * *

( ( In honor of a few -of many- women who have shaped -or are shaping-  who I am today. ) )

BE INSPI(RED) : Words of Hope and Courage

Introduction

If you ever doubt the power of language,

listen more closely.

Witness the magic the first time someone whispers "I love you."

Watch a woman put on headphones,

close her eyes, and have her life changed

by a lyric.

See a bad moment flipped upside down

by a well-timed joke.

Words propel us, empower us, make us human...

and more than human.

We constantly struggle to say what we mean

and mean what we say.

To "wrestle with words and meanings."

That's what T.S. Eliot calls it.

But as we whisper and shout, stutter and spin,

we create order out of the chaos around us.

We are built of words, and we live by them, too.

This book is about a few of our favorites.

* * *

The intro above is from a little book I found a year or so ago at Hallmark; BE INSPI(RED): Words of Hope and Courage. Let me tell you, it is quite the treasure trove of inspiration.The writers took what they called "red" words and wrote a few insightful lines for each one.

(Note: Assuming you're wondering what "red" words are... the book was produced by Product (RED) in partnership with Hallmark. If you've never heard about (Red) before, you can check it out here. But in all honesty, Bono - along with several other icons and huge companies - endorses it so if you haven't heard of it... well, nevermind.)

Every now and then I intend to post a word or two when things get a bit slow on the blog just to keep some creative juices flowing. I posted the intro because... well it just seemed fitting to do so, I guess. It also could have been that I love the intro and felt the desire to share it... Now you don't know what to think, do you?

Anyway...

In hopes that you can get a taste of why I love this book:

Ca(red)

There is love embedded in the subtle simplicity of every day.

Don't overlook its gentle magic.

Its life's gift. Take it.

Let it charm you.