I was broken Lost my “Hope” Needed belief, Her face – That beauty – Unbearable To go on Without, Threw all Including Thanksgiving, Aside to go Rescue The Marbles That almost Demolished My physicality.
Today, truce, I never Trust her, She sometimes Believes in me, We love each Other with A dis-ease Like magnets Attracting Repelling.
She is A lunatic, I am mental, We suit One another Because We learned To trust Whatever We are It could get Better, It could be Worse, But who We are is Together.
I am thankful: 1. I have been waking earlier. 2. I am enjoying my corded keyboard and mouse. 3. I have recently finished several books. 4. I created art this morning. 5. I appreciate that I have a home.
Prompt Think about your life and the human condition and pick an instance that appeals from which to create a written or artistic work.
When words buckle beneath the pressure to flow, all I know is to let go. I have not found a magic token to purchase creativity’s flow.
I kept hoping that my Facebook account would be reinstated, but it appears I lost it permanently on August 5th. It is sad. Friends have told me I should make a new account, but I think if they take mine, I can not begin again.
Maui, Wookie, and Tribble
I am dog sitting Maui for Alex while he is in transition to a more permanent home. You might notice Tribble is least concerned and going her way.
I am not quite sure how I forgot in my troubleshooting to unplug the device, but I called Amazon for help. I felt about as dumb as ever.
The Samsung A32 is working far above my expectations. I love using my phone again.
Having a refrigerator is a blast. Almost three months without one, I am so glad that is over.
I am using Twitter a bit. My Facebook friends are not all on there, but it is okay.
Writing is an exploration of thoughts that come to mind when we march words onto the page. The war begins when we force them into intense sense by editing such that we bleed grammar and style.
Happy Labor Day! I hope you have time to enjoy a break.
Music became life On a full-size bed where dance Was called by my brother On his electric blue Fender With white highlights and magic. I was just little He was my hero, and is, Though we had our downs, He has gone ahead, but I Think of him often and all The talent carried In someone I could see, touch, Have play songs for me, I guess he jams with those who He could play in such detail. I still love the sound Of music turned up a bit loud My dancing is less Beautiful and precise, but The songs bring me back to life.
Beginning: I was love, Softness in words, deeds, Meeting incessant needs. Time taught: The world, A hard place to fall; My mistakes, misdeeds Caused cruel stinging pain. Learning: Reading, writing, Were who I quickly became. Maladies: Kept home, taught A body could be a traitor. Determination: A semblance Of the best salvaged from rest. Passions: Love came easily For music and dance, Building stories better than my life, Writing poems at every chance. World: Water was my element, I flirted with the hungry magic – Of fire, at many campsites. School: Lessons were not hard, I studied gruelingly, but kids, Were often less than kind, I hurt but pursued devotedly, A well-educated mind. Romance: When invaded, I embraced it and have Never really let it go, I have loved occasionally, And lost much the same, Only bits of my heart Have remained with those Who my passion claimed. Tragedy: I learned a mind Could be shattered and After, rearranged, though Never working quite right; Certain God does miracles, And pieces can be fashioned – Into something precious, if One lives long enough to grow. Mission: I try to learn how to Illustrate lessons I come to know, Loving those who cross my path But I often mess up on the way; I tried, learned it is okay to be me.
I wrote the poem above in my journal. It was much different.
As a PROMPT: Take something you have created, either long past or recently, and do a critical and exhaustive reworking. I usually say calm and ignore your inner critic, but you should allow it out to play at this time.
GRATITUDE: Time spent on the phone with my son, Alex. My being an editor. My ability as a writer. WordPress: It saved my MSN Spaces blog by transferring it to Chronicles. I woke up early enough to put the Explorer out of the rain so the leak would not cause problems.
Haphazard Creative 
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