Pens, Tanka, Joined Tanka Poems; & More

Most people I know who are writers are pen aficionados, and I am guilty. I have been collecting pens for an age. I like to put them at the top of my website, but their provenance varies. The one up there now is one of a bunch I picked up during the time Target had exotic pens. I could afford to spend very little on them, and there they were. I do not think any of them were over $10.

The thing about those pens is that many of them are just as beautiful as costly ones today. I try to control my obsession.

Behave, stop looking,
Now, do not go there, be good,
Avoid, remain free,
Go look at the collection
No pen do you need, require.

I once thought if I had a Mont Blanc, I would have arrived as a writer. Sam’s Club used to sell them in the 2000s. I had worked for a while, then wound up hospitalized. While working, I got my pen. My thoughts on arrival were erroneous. I begin to doubt ever arriving. My investment in becoming a competent and self-educated writer, though, has been intense.

Alex is after me to get rid of books and clothes, and I am not reacting docilely to the suggestion. He has not gone after the pens, though. I can hope he has not noticed, but more likely, being trained in military tactics, he is biding his time and wishing to obtain those other objectives before attacking another front.

He told me today, for the first time in my life, I wish you were normal. I wish I were normal, it would be so much easier. I have never been normal. I do thank God I am at least partially functional.

Today, I got the call par excellence, Monday, is my trip to the psychiatrist. As usual, I would love to instead send someone else, attend by proxy. All-day, it takes all day.

Love Holds

I think of you, blue,
The sky, sea, the heart of me,
Without an answer,
I think my incompetence
Yet I dream you, many things.

Did I say too much
Or provide you too little,
I was way off stride,
So much depends on the words
Yet, sometimes language evades.

I fought crystal tears
Light icicles, waterfalls,
Wonder if I am
Anything, anyone, one
Better than imagining.

I step back into
Shadows, blue-black and opaque,
If it is, maybe,
Time freely given, settles,
Around these forsaken feet.

Time is a captor
Of hearts, loves all meant sublime
Whatever will be,
Will be, times without number
At my organ, I sang and played.

I thought to have left
Uncertainties behind, but
I find the circle
Wheels round, round, over again
But I scarce remember why.

As a prompt: Our hearts and minds often overwhelm us. If you feel your emotions, thoughts, adrift in a whirlpool, put a hook in, and pull out something. Then take it, elaborate, gnaw at it, and create a work in your chosen art. Let it be random. If that means a computerized randomizer or a jar with slips of paper, it might be just what you need.

I want you to know you are beautiful, worthy, talented, and you have a purpose. Do not give up. Many people believe you are precious, even if they do not express it. You, you be the one to express love and sow hope. I believe in you.

When we open our eyes to nature, even the weeds are beautiful. God creates paintings if we choose to see.

Little Pleasantries

Nothing showy you all, just little things. Firstly, I did not want to go to town (anywhere not in the woods), today. Alex has been visiting his father and left Goobi, the cat, with my dogs and me. Goobi needed food. The city was necessary; I could not allow Goobi to starve.

It was not raining, which I have mentioned we are in the “rainy season.” The Explorer, though somewhat dirty, was not as bad as I expected. Alex and Maui have used it extensively. Mostly there are white hairs and footprints, but I was pleasantly surprised. The tank was almost empty, and that was about $35, but the station was not crowded, and it went smoothly.

I went to Kroger and picked up a few things, then got directed to the cat food. A three-pound bag was almost $12. Then I looked again, the tag said a limited quantity only this flavor was $3.60 per three-pound bag. This was Nutro Salmon and Brown Rice. There were two bags, but one was all the way at the back. My short self tried to reach it, a no-go. I walked up the aisle and saw nothing with length to it, and there seemed to be a shortage of available tall humans. I really like tall humans, they are handy. I keep one when I can. I looked the other way and saw some lint brushes. I was not sure these were sufficient, but anything is worth a try once, almost. I stood on the bottom shelf. You have seen short people doing this. I am sure I do not recommend it, but desperate times… I managed to snag the food. My way of seeing things, God set that up for me.

I went to Dairy Queen for an M&M Blizzard as a truly nutritional lunch. When the owner’s son gave me my receipt, he told me to do the survey, and he would give me a large blizzard for the cost of a medium, which is not what the paper says, but I know some people.

Alex was not with me, so I was not on a mission at Sam’s Club, and I browsed around as I do. Checking stock, checking prices, dreaming over books. I talked to a lady over the grapes. Sam’s likes to move things around and confuse customers. We talked about how their produce is superior to Kroger’s, and she agreed. I had discussed my theory on that with Alex, and without trotting it out, the lady’s experience agreed with my thoughts. We talked for several minutes, and it was delightful. Then when I went to leave, she said, “God Bless You!” I returned it with my own, but it felt so good to have an utter stranger bless me.

Another lady was looking at coffee, and I asked her which kind she liked. She said most anything, just not designer flavored coffees. She walked away, but when I came to the end of the aisle, she told me her real thing was creamers. We talked some more, and we were both smiling and pleased with the conversation.

The thing is I have severe social anxiety, and I am working on it by talking to strangers. It is fun, but the overthinking afterward, I could leave off.

I came home and got over-heated going in and out of a 57-degree house. Then I got cold. Because the propane will not deliver until Monday, I turned the central heat to 65. Then I decided to rock out to Newsboys and had to turn the heat off.

Life is amazing. People are so precious, beautiful.

God goes before us. We are loved.

Keeper

I ride the swirling
Ocean of unsought feelings
Forever wishing
I could harness the thunder
Of waves upon a rocky shore.

I, and me, argue
Individuality
No compromise becomes
Myself, for a writer, must
Continually create.

The self, a work left,
For God, in holy wisdom,
To manifest who
I may become through permit,
Gifted creativity.

I am haunted, chased,
By dreams unresolved, tossed,
Upon the heaping
Pile of what might once have been,
Bartering, to begin again.

This storm, this battle,
I in Him will place my trust,
Whatever comes, must,
I shall stand though opinion
May dissuade, I will believe.

There is, and now shall always
Be a future for those like me.

I originally came here this evening to inform you who read due to lack of response, 2020, has been canceled. Fortunately, that is beyond my power. However, my 2o2o Creativity Project – 365, can come to a screeching halt with the application of my intention.

Perhaps it would be better to do it privately, but I seem to dislike that idea. Here, you find me still.

I see all these things about giving up technology for money, but all are hypothetical. None really say they have the money. I think they know they would lose. My pets, pens, books, journals, and typewriter would keep me. Without cash in hand, though, best leave my stash alone.

Keep well. Find pleasure. Be better than yesterday.

See ya.

Squiggles

We always do this
Who write – put black onto white
The leaving of minds,
Staged for another to read
If we in labor succeed.

Most miserable found
Without an implement to
Scribe wayward thoughts down,
For the perfect line easy
Slips away, obscurity.

Sometimes ourselves are
Captured, hidden though written
With precise phrases,
All the hope, joy, light, love, is
To overcome mistakes made.

We know creation
Ushers in another world
Within the mind, heart,
Which may dispel the darkness
At least for a little while.

So merry squiggles
Honest, many, construct, make
The world needs stories
To break out of its prison
We free dreams, to breathe, become.

Write writers, show,
Tell, illuminate the dark
For people can grow
When they find treasures within
The pages on which you bestow –

SQUIGGLES!

Ladies and gentlemen, I urge you to create. It is a wonderful break from a world that all too often is heavy and dispiriting. In your process, when shared, you may lift some other life and encourage them to engage in creativity.

As a prompt, pick up a book or whatever you have been reading, open it randomly, let a word set you to thinking or verge off the word to one of your own.

Never let yourself become too busy to indulge in at least a few moments per day of creation. Your heart and soul will suffer if you do.

Thank you for reading Haphazard Creation. I hope you enjoyed your time here. Please follow or come again.

All the best to you and yours. Let love be your guide.

By the way, the poem is joined tankas, but for the last line.

Walking…

I do this thing; it is not an easy thing. I am on it, though.