Close Enough

The rain falls down
Your hand in my pocket, warm,
Somehow we have to
Get ourselves out of the storm,
The umbrella comes between
The closeness that should
Forever be you and me.

It is not our grandparent’s
Wonderful life, we must be careful
Round here, to succeed, to survive.

Fires, they rage, so wild,
Out of control, gotta set up –
Some smoke control,
Breathing gets harder, exerts,
Until it almost sets up hurt,
Clouds on the horizon, but no,
It is the fire’s dark exhaust.

It is not our grandparent’s
Wonderful life, we must be careful
Round here, to succeed, to survive.

Screaming fills in the streets
One says this; another speaks that,
Someone with matches, pyromaniac fun,
The other has a gun in a pocket, heat,
That one has a knife in a boot, treat,
Control fled, no one knows how to live
Everyone is subject to being dead.

It is not our grandparent’s
Wonderful life, we must be careful
Round here, to succeed, to survive.

Your hand in my pocket,
Please do not let me go,
This world is a desolation,
Join me in the isolation
Check the windows, the doors,
No egress for strangers
Can we now possibly afford.

It is not our grandparent’s
Wonderful life, we must be careful
Round here, to succeed, to survive.

Who have we finally become
Who cannot communicate,
Cannot show respect enough
To avoid a world that deteriorates?
Where did the love go, tell me,
We are all in this together,
If not, we will likely all fall.

It is not our grandparent’s
Wonderful life, we must be careful
Round here, to succeed, to survive.

© Jo Ann J. A. Jordan

The Well Is Deep

Feed and Upkeep: The well within, where creativity and imagination reside, relies on consistent and varied tasks to maintain function and outpour.

Reading most any material will do. I have a love of novels, instructional volumes, Bibles, reference tomes. Still, poetry books, magazines, newspapers, biographies, old, outdated texts, and anything else that comes within my reach are beloved.

Music lifts my spirits and stitches up the tears that plague my soul. Without lyric, melody, and harmony, life would be dark and dull. I listen to virtually anything. I am always finding new favorites that tweak my ears.

Pens are an unquenchable delight. Switching to a different one can somehow spur an unusual stream of thought, freed from wherever it took flight.

Art supplies can move me to discover parts of me for which I never knew there existed a need.

Cards, journals, paper somehow seem full of beauties I search for when I am distracted. I often find a binding peace in words that flow like honey from the interiors I did not know were waiting.

Time with Tribble and Wookie, my extraordinary dogs, grounds me and helps relax my hyperactivity.

Driving can be a journey into spaces between my heartbeats. The heart of me responds to the motion and the emotion of the music that usually plays.

I have to be cautious, for funds are few, but shopping with the beauty of acquisition and variety of choice bubbles the well.

Costuming within the wardrobe I chose also has a pleasure that suits me.

I am highly productive with creativity, so I slake my thirst at the well continually. No one can build without quality materials. Taking time to restore our power is an essential portion of the creative function. I hope maybe you found some ideas. May you always find what you require before you come to know your need.

© Jo Ann J. A. Jordan

What do you do to fill your well, or do you have other words for it? Can you increase your inflow so you have more product?

Do you have persons who encourage and inspire you to the point the well is filled?

Does conversation carry you to new constellations where you find true being?

Pondering Extremities…

Somehow, sometime, there
Is a chance of change, to be,
When happy becomes,
Taking over history;
Love, money, all the little things.
The smiles wild blasting
Able to overcome all
The mosquito troubles,
Discounted into oblivion;
Until they, undead, rise again.
I look, for once, at you,
Wondering, could we be real
Becoming something more
Than beneficial friends?
Remembering how I fail,
Time and time, always again;
I turn myself around,
Expecting to walk – because
I cannot survive another breaking –
Of my oft shattered, tattered, torn heart;
But this time, maybe, one time,
My dice roll different numbers;
The soul of love knows the game,
Infinitely well, it gathers and tells.
Your hand brushes my shoulder,
My leaving, I hesitate, wait,
You softly whisper, “Will you stay?”
Going no longer seems
The needful thing to do
I get a hopeful glimpse
Of what might happen if
I chose to embrace my dreams.
Life evolves from complication,
To a rising sense of simplicity
And living all on my own
Becomes a rumor overwritten
By secret looks, shared music, laughter,
Bathed in acceptance and respect,
Growing perhaps into love beyond
What mortal life can measure,
Something captured on the intake
And outflow of every blessed breath.

© Jo Ann J. A. Jordan

You did not have to
Be the who you have become,
But I am happy
You are precisely who you
Are, and claim yourself to be.

Thank you for visiting, please follow Haphazard Creative, or in your rambling find your way back here again. I hope you have a blissful weekend with plenty of time for creation, both the making of things and enjoying the gifts God so generously shared with us.

As a prompt, pick something dear and create about it. You may choose to share or keep it to yourself. You are the one in charge of how you interact with this reality.

I did something rare overnight. I watched an episode of one of my guilty pleasures. I had not done that since February. Maybe one day I will catch up the show.

© Jo Ann J. A. Jordan

Not An Average Fan

I have been crazy about music all my life. My “Bud,” big brother, James, used to play his sweet blue and white guitar, which may have been a Fender, and I danced on the bed. This as a toddler, and maybe a bit beyond.

I am sure the harmonica my other brother, Melv, gave me, was in use almost enough to drive my parents to send me off for adoption. They gave in to my constant pleas for guitar lessons, and I spent about three years at that.

School had singing, the church had singing in choir. Mom, Dad, and I did an impromptu concert of gospel music almost every night. Of course, I used it as a way to stay out of bed whenever I could. We could go a couple of hours when I was really good at thinking of obscure titles.

I had an impressive collection of Disney albums, the original scores to many movies. My Fair Lady and Tennesse Ernie Ford were also in my collection.

I guess it was about 1972 that they got me a Kimball Swinger Oprea edition organ because I had outgrown the simple plastic one. Again, they were kind to allow me to practice because I am a volume menace.

My brothers left their 45s when they moved out, and I was introduced to rock mostly on a red portable turntable first in the attic, then in my room.

There were Country Music Concerts in parking lots, concerts included with my Six Flags season pass, and later concerts in Atlanta.

Vinyl, eight-tracks, cassettes, CDs, and streaming, I kept music always, and because I hate commercials, I have often avoided radio.

My favorite band is The Rolling Stones. I think over the time since I found them in 1981, I have owned the majority of their work and much of Mick’s solo work.

My son says I am an extreme fan of The Rolling Stones, and I guess he is right. I took him to his first concert to see them. It is funny to me that he thinks me so far gone.

This did not come out how I planned, but honestly, almost nothing I do does.

As a prompt, what is your musical history? Create something about it.

I got some sleep that was deep enough to be restorative. I am ignoring the pain.

Who cares about pain?
We all have it, such a shame,
Try to stuff it, pain.


Take today under
Advisement, be open, beware,
Do not stare too close
At the presentation, be edgewise,
Try to share the beauty on show,
Do not let your reservations
Impair your ability to enjoy,
But remember there are depths
Not visible on the surface,
And you are a multidimensional
Creature in the process of being.


Thank you for your visit here. You may follow Haphazard Creative, or come back when you will.

Many blessings to all of you.

Watch out, Monday is on its way, speeding down a surface street riddled with potholes that may aggravate its temper. Good luck to all of us with that.

© Jo Ann J. A. Jordan


Be Encouraged

The gracious sun rose today
Its rays upon the earth to play
With life-giving light to nourish
And illuminate where it fell.

God loves you endlessly and
He is forever ready
To intercede.

Children and pets still
Find ample reasons
For JOY as they share
Themselves and their play.

Someone loves you more
Than it is possible
For you
To ever guess or know.

Flowers, trees, birds, bees,
Creatures, foliage, freely grow;
Rivers, oceans, streams, all
Manner of waters sustaining flow.

You have learned volumes
There is so much more to keep
You content in further discovery
As you gain wisdom, so you know.

Music and film,
Books and magazines,
Cater to every taste
And intellectual whim.

Be Encouraged,
You are ALIVE
And life, the living
Is precious.

Life; greater than
Any sum of money,
Or vast collection
Of priceless gems.

Lofty or lowly each
Has reason and purpose,
Station can change in the haste
Of a blinking eye.

Keep hoping, loving, trying,
Bring all you are and remember,
Your blessings always,
For Blessed Beloved You Are.

© Jo Ann J. A. Jordan

Years ago when I used typewriters, I used to play with creation in type. I rarely do it on computers and I have no answer why. I do carefully chose typefaces or fonts. Anyway, this is a bit different for me. Again, I borrowed the idea from the moderator in my Journal Writing group. 

I hope all of you are having a good evening, or day, as may be. Try to remember love, because love is everything.

Thank you for visiting Haphazard Creative. There is a follow button, or you may come back as time allows.

I am here each day, this is a 365 Creativity Project for the year 2020. I am pleased that so far I have posted at least once each day.