Apologies To Allen et al.

You sudden, wake up,
To find the world is not all
Things you had in mind,
But still, life beckons much like
A closeted skeleton,
Reminding you, “Time
Waits For No One,” exacting
Its toll on bodies,
Minds, the frolics of each day
Fading quickly now away.
You hear a whisper,
“I Can’t Get No Satisfaction,”
While the tears run down
Your face without any trace
Of the deeds, you are obliged
To do in your hurry
To become who you will be
In the darn, “Who’s Who”
Directory, which you have
Always wished to discover
Some method, madness,
To propel yourself to fame
Which is not tinted
By the same “True Colors,” as
Everyone who makes
Good the journey, slowly begun,
In the paltry neighborhood
Where we each were born
With not one shiny penny
To launch us into
The stratosphere, you will know
Of which I mention because
The tarry residue clings
To the racy wardrobe amassed
Along the way to the present
From the seconds of yesterday.
You shout, “Failure is not an option,”
While looking over your shoulder
To see hungry wolves clawing
Their way minute by minute
Through the balsa door erected
In haste to shelter your dreams
From the awful extremes of envy,
The monster that turns friends
Against friends and makes lovers
Into the direst of enemies.
You are reminded never
To settle for less than the best,
While begging an agent to take
Chances on a story you could
Hardly tell because of impressions
Which impelled you to recognize
You sold your creativity
Off to a lower bidder without
Believing you had “The Right Stuff”
And “The Matrix” could not come
Together in “The Field of Dreams”
For we are all just prisoners here
Captured by the devices that
Will not allow us to enter paradise.
Still, now, do not succumb
To that black-feathered bird
Whispering above the door,
“Nevermore,” for it has no idea
The greatness lying awakened
Within the love-lorn heart beating
Tell-tale inside of you
For you sail with the angels
Across an endless sea into
Whatsoever, however, whenever
Will come to be your slice
Of “Supernatural” reality.
At last, there is no peace
In which to rest, because
Debtors have no recourse
But to pay, and pay again
And so must go on writing
Even ever and evermore.

Sometimes I play, like the child I once was, left alone for a moment on a snowy day, when nothing could longer destroy who I believed I might be, given an opportunity.

Feeling a Bit More Me

Well, now, I am happier. I should have taken the time awhile ago. I feel fully alive. Thank you, #MadisonReed, for the best personal color ever.

I guess this is an expense worth every penny.

Welcome February

This is Goobi, my grand kitty. She believes she owns me, and I am a semi-obedient cat servant now, so maybe she is right.

There is a lot of material in the following pages, so please humor me and read it all. It has been a while since I have written much by hand, so my script is iffy at times. It will improve as I do this again.

I have mentioned I work slow, I have done all these since about 1 or 2 am, until minutes ago. The scanning process was a nightmare with the Dell. Do not get a Dell.

That last haiku is a tribute to Freddie Mercury, and someone, but no one.

I hope you are having an outstanding day. I have stayed busy. I may be back, but it depends.

There is a lot swirling around inside me right now, the thing is finding the right piece to begin assembling the puzzle and the proper color to paint it with.

God bless you! Create. Write your name bold across the globe. You are a masterpiece.

As a prompt, if you are brave – post a handwritten page or more.

AWay (Joined Tankas & More)

2020-01-26_A Way

This drawing was done last week, but I was not happy with it. Still practicing. I have to find my way in that too.

2020-01-26_Drawing

I finished the book, The Ten Thousand Doors of January last night. This book was a pure delight. I give it a five only because most ratings do not go to ten. I recommend you read it. Love, adventure, complicated relationships, the power of Words. I will not spoil it.

This is one of my current reads:

This is a fascinating book, maybe more than I bargained for when I bought it.

I am grateful:

For bananas: and learning, they can be refrigerated.
For coffee, you know, coffee.
For the things I own.
For the ability to read, write, and do art and photography.
For Alex, who means the world to me.

As a prompt, review something you have read, seen, or done lately. Share it, or just make it yours.

“A Rainy Night In Georgia”

It’s raining; it seems like it rains all the time. I tend to believe, partially facetiously, that Georgia is now part of the Tropics. We have a dry season, and then we have a rainy season. It was not this way when I grew up. I seem to remember, though my memory has compartments, that there used to be dew on the grass every morning. Mostly rain was at night. Understand the assumption might be fanciful. I have notions. At any rate, this drift into tropical seasons has escalated over the years.

Alex lived in Nevada for a while, near or in the desert. It rarely rains. We both tend to think and imagine better in motion, walking. He told me, “Thanks so much,” for bequeathing that anomaly to him. This evening, Alex went out in the pouring rain to listen to the novel Armada, and his writing block broke, so he began listening to music and continued walking.

He is moving back to Georgia after traveling the world since he graduated from Alexander High School in 2006. I assure you all his adventuring was not for pleasure. He has been far from a vagabond. Since he has been home, the rain has been pervasive. Rain in Georgia tends to be cold, and there is always high humidity, even when it is dry.

I walk, it is how I lost a significant amount of weight, which I have begun to regain to my chagrin. I do it mostly indoors.

Alex came back in totally soaked, and shivery. He brewed coffee, which we got at Kroger, and has been working on his novel with his headphones on.

Every time I tried to work with “The Dell from Hell” (pardon me, this is the only accurate description of the computer), it was slow as a sloth. I intended to do this post on it, but found, as I suspected that it wanted to update, so I pulled out the keyboard for my tablet and am finishing this on it. I have my headphones on and am listening to YouTube. The tablet/keyboard combination works reasonably well, but I keep wanting a mouse.

You should listen to the song, “A Rainy Night In Georgia.” Had things not become obnoxious with The Dell, I would have linked it. I do not trust myself to do it on this sweet tablet. I have never even used the keyboard with it before, but desperation breeds courage.

Many are the times I have wanted to chunk the Dell against a wall, or shoot it, (I have no gun for secret reasons), but the money invested in the piece of junk does not permit it. When it ate all my files made over two years, I had to talk to Jesus for a while to ameliorate my rage. I still do not have those files, that is why it has the unusual sobriquet.

I have been drinking coffee, even though I got up on Thursday morning and have not slept since, I am probably up as long as Alex is, and he is drinking coffee too. I finally left that lethargic state behind.

I am currently reading, The Ten Thousand Doors of January by Alix E. Harrow, and am enjoying it immensely. The cover is gorgeous, and covers can get me every time. This book is about Words, and I adore words.

I would write a poem, but it seems Shift+Enter does not make single line spaces on this device combination, so that will wait.

It looks as though I am rambling a bit. Often happens when under coffee’s influence. So I shall bid you adieu and find something else to entertain me.