Poetry

Resolutions – substitutions; Just say no to Resolutions

calvin-hobbes-new-years-resolutions 

 

It’s that time of the year again, time for Resolutions. I have posted many times that I do not make resolutions; I just plan and do the deeds. However, I say this every year and I do make a list of things that I have to do to keep my sanity, especially in the realm of writing.

I have been writing, but only posting to my blog. Why you ask? I gotta stop drinking, procrastinating and going onto Facebook, and watching sports, and…but I digress.

I am not going to get caught up in the hype of resolutions, on the first day of January. Besides, I think all resolutions are a precursor to failure. However, I personally find that there really isn’t anything wrong with failure, failure means, you at least tried.

What I am going to do, try and maybe fail, and or, try and succeed, well, there are a bunch of things that I must do for the year of 2017 and beyond. I really have to finish all of the below because, I am tired of eating PB&J every day, with water. I really miss eating steak, salmon, caviar, champagne…even though I am a vegetarian, I still miss em all.

My goals for 2017:

Finish the novel I started for NaNoWriMo, by at least by the end February, or at least sometime this year, “Marooned”. I am into about 10k words (that took me six days to write 10k words), and would love to end with at least, 60k – 70k+ words. I have had a cover created, which has inspired me to write the story, all of which is glued to a tiny portion of my brain.

 I have finished two books in my “fictional autobiography” series. Now I need to edit them and find someone to read them, for clarity. There are four more in the series to write. The main thing is to find a publisher. I would love to have this series published the old-fashioned, traditional, way. Self-publishing is not out of the question.

In past couple of months, I have come up a few new story lines, Time Sleeper, Day Runner, Comic Con and Surf’s Up. My plate is getting full, and I am hungry.

I started writing a new book of poetry, Haikus. The Haiku’s are in regard to the seasons.  I was taking pictures of nature, in the spring, summer, fall and winter. I think I have all the pictures I need. Of course, a few more won’t hurt, and I have written over a hundred and fleshed out many more haiku’s. However, I have over 500 pictures, which is about the amount I would need to finish writing.

In addition, I have finished two screenplays. Now that I found out about Amazon Storywriter, it should help me focus on my story with features such as auto-formatting, import/export of my favorite file formats. They have also announced that they are now welcoming online submissions of drama series projects and are offering new expansions to their open-door submission policy.

 

A new Web site! I took the last one down three or so years ago. My goal is to get one up and running in the next couple of months.

On 3×5 cards, I have written out 42 stories. Most of them I wrote over 30 years or so ago. It’s time to outline those stories and get productive this years.

I have so many other goals to accomplish this year, and as of the first of January, I can’t think of any resolutions.

 

A Study in Orange and Black

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Chaos

Fire and steel, molten

red malevolence poured

from vessel to vessel,

Chaos.

 

A river of steel flowing growing

smaller, pounded, beaten, flattened,

drenched, cooled,

Chaos.

 

A whistle blaring, a train’s

coming laden with ore splattering

its contents down the side,

Chaos.

 

Sparks fly like static electricity

dancing in the air, sizzling

aimlessly, alight near a flowerless plant

growing in the orange rust colored ground,

Chaos.

 

On that same plant, a butterfly

A spectacle beholding,

a Monarch, or maybe…

Chaos?

WHY?

Why?

Why me?!

Am I in control?

There’s a rip in the

fabric of time.

Shit Happens!

There is no control.

Life slips thru my

Fingers

like water through a

sieve.

An endless search

may find my destiny

wrapped up like a

ball of yarn, batted,

whacked, played with–

by a big scary

Cat.

Recovery is eventual

similar to ripping of

one’s pants.

Salvage!

Why me? Only I…

would

know.

Serenity

Serenity

Marbled Blue Skies
Green Grass, relaxing beneath
Bright Yellow Sunrises
Red and Orange Sunsets

Clear Waterfalls rambling onward
Brown Geese honking
White Swans swimming forward
Blue Jays singing

Roses tantalizing odors
Apples crunchy, tasty, sour
Wild Raspberries bountiful
Blackberry’s ripe for the picking

Trees bending slightly in the light breeze
Butterflies flitter along searching
Bee’s busy buzzing
Frogs croaking loudly

Dogs barking, playing
Children spinning wildly
Bubbles floating gingerly by
Laughter throughout

J.S. Bach softly playing
A glass of Red Wine
A Comfortable Chair
A Good book to read

Serenity

Meditation

meditation

I will relax I will relax.

I will take myself down to my state of relaxation.
As I slide down my brass pole to my state.
I will relax.

I drop onto my carved out tree stoop in this beautiful meadow,
Surrounded by Black-eye Susan’s and Daisies gazing skyward.
Their faces, tickled by long cheerful fingers of sunlight
Poking through a foggy morning sky.
I will relax.

As the fog starts to lift, I spy forest of pine trees.
Through the pine scented trees, I see a lake.
The deep blue sky reflects with perfection
On water as smooth as a pane of glass.
I will relax.

Beyond the lake, I can make out titanic mountains.
Lush green fills its muscular surface, and its broad sides
Sitting atop in all of its splendor, a scoop of vanilla ice cream,
Slowly melting as the morning sun bleats downward.
I will relax

My body is relaxed, my mind is relaxed, and my soul is relaxed,
I am relaxed
My body is relaxed, my mind is relaxed, and my soul is relaxed,
I am relaxed I am relaxed.

Serenity

Marbled Blue Skies
Green Grass, relaxing beneath
Bright Yellow Sunrises
Red and Orange Sunsets

Clear Waterfalls rambling onward
Brown Geese honking
White Swans swimming forward
Blue Jays singing

Roses tantalizing odors
Apples crunchy, tasty, sour
Wild Raspberries bountiful
Blackberry’s ripe for the picking

Trees bending, slightly in the light breeze
Butterflies flitter along searching
Bee’s busy buzzing
Frogs croaking loudly

Dogs barking, playing
Children spinning wildly
Bubbles floating gingerly by
Laughter throughout

J.S. Bach softly playing
A glass of Red Wine
A Comfortable Chair
A Good book to read

Serenity

Haiku’s of Spring

Image

Sitting with Spring

 

In a lush forest

Sitting under a fir tree

Its spirit talks to me


 

Image

Spring flowers

 

White flowers bloom over

Once green trees, fruit will grow there

Soon my mouth waters


 

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Above the Chaos

 

Above the chaos blight

Upon the desolate ground

One pretty flower grows

Love lost and Friendship

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Window to your Soul

 

I’ve opened the window to your soul,

divine as the mind’s eye you seek,

the spirit of your sensually of thee,

your gaze, opened wide, of me takes its toll.

 

Weak, not of me, your eyes seem to speak, a nexus

of my heart, the nature of inseparable

erotic bonds, held closely by a fine thread

stretched only by the distance of time.

 

I get closer to your beauty, reaching,

touching you softly with every word,

foreshadowed, lives beginning, teaching,

quixotic, effervescent, free as a bird.

 

I read from your eyes, your very most inner being,

and continue to read from the pages of your life.

You start with exotic fruits of passion, flowers

that fills me with a sense of nature’s divinity.

 

Soaring through your mind’s eye, Paradise exists,

fluffy clouds above give warmth to ocean’s blue,

the clamor of the ocean’s roar, so hard to resist,

The temptation within me, exulted and so true.

 

whilst lost in time and thought, I seek a place,

away from outside intervention, existing deep

within the recesses of the dreams I have of you,

You’re guiding aura, brilliant, and radiant at peace.

 

I fantasize now more than ever, a desire, evermore,

to open your heart, diminish our distance apart,

to travel the land and oceans to seek your love, before

the sun sets, closing your eyes for a nights rest,

silencing this thundering beat, until we finally meet.

 


 

Image

 

Friendship is like…

 

If friendship is like a shadow,

then what am I?

I take all my friendships

seriously.

I liken my friendship to a

large luscious tree;

encompassing all

who happen to rest beneath

its cool and peaceful

veil of green leaves.

The feeling of tranquilly

and trust you get

when you lean back

and let its bark massage

and relax you very inner being.

Its golden aura

surrounds then penetrates

your soul.

This is what I feel in my

friendships. To wrap my friendship

around your essence like the

shadow of a tree.

 

Finally I’m Finished!

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Today was a good day, as far as being a writer.

It took me 29 years to finish my first novel. That happened yesterday night. I almost broke down and cried, (don’t worry I played my man card). I felt that relieved, I felt that happy. Nevertheless, another feeling hit me just as hard. I felt hurt, not the painful whacked upside the head hurt, but emotionally hurt.

I find this troubling, because I am starting to doubt myself, fear is raising from the depths — what if I messed my story up, didn’t edit it well enough, what if it isn’t good enough. I really wish I had a professional editor go over it for me, but I don’t think I even have 100 pennies right now to get an editor.

Twenty-nine years. I totally lost that much time. About the time I started writing the novel my world was revolving around my children, home life, my job and I was going to school, studying journalism. I was writing for a few newsletters and a magazine, so I was busy.

I always had it in my mind as what I wanted to do and I had outlined, on a couple dozen 3×5 cards all the stories I wanted to write. In 1985, I started on my novel, SunRun. I ended up writing about 2/3 of it then life interfered. I then wrote an ending but couldn’t figure out how to bridge the gap between the front end and the ending of my story.

In the middle 90s, I took a couple of creative writing classes and figured out how to bridge that gap.  But, I put the book away because life got in the way. Moreover, my Credo, at the time was, “I’ve got a job and I am too busy.” And I had a lot of fun in the 90s, some of my best years were in the 90s!

But my writing begin to suffer, because I wasn’t writing enough. A long time ago, I use to write in a journal or on those 3×5 cards. I barely got anything done during those “fun” years. By 2006, I was given a buyout and the opportunity to retire and I took it.

About this was the time I had to find something to do or I would have to go and look for a job at Burger King or become a greeter at Walmart. None of those things were going to happen (they still might, I gotta eat, you know). So, I picked up pen and paper (really, I used a computer), and got to working on that novel.

I took some of the notes from that creative writing class and decided that I should revise my book and the title. As far as titles go, I am not that good in picking a title. So, I changed the name to Operation: SunRun. And of course I did more revising and editing.

In the meantime, I got more ideas and wrote three short stories and because my Mother had passed away, a little earlier, I wrote a book of poems in her memory. My writing then took a different course.

I was hooked on poetry, considering I took a couple semesters of poetry at the local college in the 90s. I finished My Mother’s Garden and had it published in 2010. Even that book of poetry took more time than I wanted to. Now that I think about it, I had about 70 poems already written, but when my mother passed away, I wrote a lot more for her.

Now is the time for me to jump on my writing, get it, and keep it going. I am still hurt and a little sad that it took so long. I know I shouldn’t say it but I am nearing the end of my life, okay, maybe not, if I am lucky I could get another 20 or more years to go. Longevity lives well in my family and I am looking forward to what they have achieved.

In the meantime, the printed version of my novel languishes over there on my desk. In fact, it’s still sitting there, on my desk, collecting dust, thank goodness for computers.