Archive for July, 2016
POEMS & FLEETING THOUGHTS: A WRITER’S PLIGHT
A WRITER’S PLIGHT
You sweat,
You agonize
To provide words,
At some point after submitting
Time past with no response
You ask yourself,
‘Is anyone fucking listening?’
A writer’s life
Is a lonely one,
You may have friends
Others involved
With the same mission,
But when it comes
To work
You are alone,
POEMS & AND FLEETING THOUGHTS: MUSINGS OF THE ‘1%’.
These are random thoughts, judge them for what they are. I will never reach the lofty level of the ‘1%’, but I feel they make great fodder for stories, how they got there and who was destroyed along the way?
Here are my questions.
What do the ‘1%’ do with their time? Do they send it appreciating their wealth, or crave and work for more? Or do they relax, appreciating the world they created and the world around them? Do they still have the drive to go on? Finally, is their wealth a curse, denying them of the ambition they once had.
Now retired, I struggle to maintain a position in the middle class. But I am naïve, thinking that accomplishments mean more than wealth.
I pray that my kind is not dying.
STRUGGLING TO GET IT WRITE: WHAT DOES A DRAGON LOOK LIKE?
For those rare individuals following this blog (actually, they are not rare as opposed to not vocal) I know I have been off purpose for some time, but the world is so fucked up I had to voice my opinion. Will that stop, you can bet your ass it won’t. While on this detour, I have been writing, submitting and been rejected. Some of the rejections were good with constructive comments on my work.
But now I am venturing into unknown territory, picture books. After picking yourself off the floor, and are assured there has not been some shift in the earth’s orbit effecting of its inhabitants, (that might be a story), this is serious stuff.
The work is Dragon Eggs, a cross between Dr. Sues and Roald Dahl. I cannot share it with you, although I wish I could, for once work appears online some publishers won’t touch it. Therefore, this piece must wait for acceptance. As we all know, that could be centuries, but I’m a patent guy.
Here are my initial thoughts on how a dragon appears, subject to change.
First size, huge, its eye is beyond the size of a standard window. The color of the mother is a mottled green and blue. The babe is blue. When fully mature, the dragons are green. This indicates that the mother is young.
The dragon’s babies and adults have huge membranous wings capable of flight. When not being used, the wings are tucked down on their back. The wings are a deep red.
The adults somewhat resemble a T Rex, but the front legs are longer and the snout is more pointed than the famous dinosaur ending with a blunt snout. Upon both opening the mouth, both adults and babes have menacing sharp teeth. And when the adult opens its mouth, there is an occasional puff of smoke.
That’s it. Tell me what you think. And for those who have seen dragons, tell me if I am close.
RANDOM IMAGES: THE COMING STORM
I’m presenting a new category, mainly because it doesn’t fit with anything thus far presented in this blog. If you enjoy it, let me know. If you hate it, let me know, my skin is thick.
Day draws down as the beach empties, time to relax for the evening. Once at your beach rental, you sit on the sheltered porch and recall the release of tension the day has provided. Beer, cocktails and sodas are offered to those tanned and burned friends sharing this vacation day.
With the evening meal done, you all return to the porch and appreciate the view. Costal grass along with elegant birds provide a picture-perfect image.
Looking to the south and west you note dark clouds closing in. Flashes build within their ominous presence and dull thunder signals an approaching storm.
The turbulence of life is echoed to you as the storm draws near.
POEMS & FLEETING THOUGHTS: SPLITTING WOOD
SPLITTING WOOD
On a crisp
October day
I once split wood
The entire afternoon,
Never tiring,
Never straying
From the mission
To keep winter warm,
Now,
Many years later
Walking is sometimes
A chore,
But I remember
Those October days.
WRITERS CROSSING THE LINE
While attending a dinner with a friend, his wife said, “Glad you have a hobby like writing.” My then-wife saw me bristle and understood why. This incident occurred some time ago but not forgotten.
At the time of this event I had already been published and aware of the agony associated on being a writer on the quest to being an author. I have pondered the issues of writing and differences of the title as writer as a hobby or writer as a profession and arrived at the following conclusion.
My thoughts are these. As I went for putting words on paper to attempting publication, I felt writing could no longer be deemed a hobby after experiencing the rejections, multiple times of my work. After some thought, I realized writing can be a pleasant pastime; that some write for the sheer joy of the experience. Never seeking publication, only enjoying the mind wandering to places they would never have considered. Simply enjoying the process of creativity.
Writing is a hobby until you decide to publish. It is then you crossed the Rubicon. There is no going back. You crossed the line from hobby to profession, and God help you. For unless you are extremely talented, a writing gem hidden from the world, you will most likely experience rejection. The words you consider magnificence will push upon the brick wall of reality.
But if you goal is to become an author you will experience a level of doubt and rejection you never anticipated. But someday, if you carry on, your work will find a home and you are on the road of being an author. The difference between writer and author is perseverance.
You made it!
You’re an author now and the years of writing as a hobby are behind you.
LIVES THAT MATTER
With the recent event on both sides of the spectrum of gun violence I am lost in sadness and anger.
I could say I understand the sentiment behind ‘Black Lives Matter, but as a white man there is no way I can appreciate the tension the black man experiences walking or driving.
Our society has become a gun-toting society out of fear and hate. I’m sick of hearing about mass murders, people of color killed and now those with the mission to protect us slaughtered. Neither side is totally right or totally wrong. After all we are human, prone to mistakes and anger.
What it comes down to is the problem of the acceptance of guns in our country. Even when 20 six year olds were killed in Sandy Hook and robbed of their future, our government does nothing to change gun laws. The massacre in Orlando resulted in the same result. What does it take to make a change of us killing us?
There is a sickness in this country, one born hundreds of years ago and haunts us to this day. In reality, there is more than one sickness and what can we do to cure the disease our society must cure to remain the nation we once were and need to be in the future.
I pray that someday the dedication to ‘Black Lives Matter’ would transition into ‘All Lives Matter’.
Am I a dreamer, or is there hope?
LOIS LANE (NOEL NEILL) HAS DIED
Being a lover of science fiction from an early age, I, of course, watched Superman on TV during the fifties.
I just read that Noel Neill, who played Lois Lane, had died at the age of 95. I had to have watched every episode where Noel Neill playing Lois Lane appeared beside George Reeves playing Superman.
Here are some musings about how that past Superman would have a problem dealing in the current day and age. It struck me, in this day and age, with cellphones the predominate means of communication and phone booths a thing of the past, where in our current society could Superman change?
Also, a pair of glasses was his disguise. I must admit, when I remove my glasses people around me expect me to fly. I continually disappoint them, so far. And also, what would happen if Superman developed a super zit on the tip of his nose? Would taking off his glasses still conceal his identity?
Questions keeping me up some nights. I’m sure they have the same effect on you.
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