poet

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.

 

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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?

And, yet I wait…

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And, yet I wait…

 And yet I wait…with further passion-

knowing that we only met,

what has felt like seconds ago in time.

But, our time together, so short,

Has made me realize what I’ve missed

In my Futile attempts to dream of,

What it’s liked to be kissed.

 

And, yet I wait…

Fantasies of you dance in my head.

My anxieties struggle with me,

Filling me with dread.

Like a river flowing through my heart;

My patience…grows, hoping my

Feelings for you never part.

 

And, yet I wait…

As the clock moves further forward

oblivious to the chime or tick tock…

I feel my patience wears thin,

As I watch the clock’s second hand spin. 

 

…And yet I wait. It’s still early, though, and…

in my heart, I know, you won’t be late.

Thus closing my booth, shutting the doors. 

So, I may walk with you hand in hand again.

 


 

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BLACK AND WHITE         

 

I sometimes wonder why

in a time and place like now,

That love can be, should be true,

like black and white.

 

You peel away a thin mystical

vale from your eyes,

To hopefully reveal the inner

beauty I know, is you.

 

But…does conflict reside

upon the twinkling of your eye?

Behind that wanned and

plastic mask you hide?

 

Only to be offset by a weak

smile through full, parted red lips,

Of words deemed charming

you purposely let slip?

 

Or, was it I who besieged you

with words of romantic glory?

Who lead you up this

spiral staircase to perch you,

 

high upon a pedestal, above all,

in pearly white clouds?

Should love, our love, have been

written, in black and white?

 

Knowing what we’ve been through,

my only recourse…

Blow the clouds that hide

your beating heart,  then shatter your 

 

Stoic mask, break your morose

mood of black and white, then

wipe those tears that may

come and believe in you — us.

 

If love were truly black and white

Not etched in granites true might.

Could I erase all the ills that besieges us,

To have sweet dreams throughout the night?

 

Haiku’s of Spring

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Sitting with Spring

 

In a lush forest

Sitting under a fir tree

Its spirit talks to me


 

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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.

 


 

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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.

 

Love and Lonely

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Thinking of You…

 

 In the deepest corners

Of my mind

My thoughts

fill of you.

The pleasures of

your touch tickle

my inner soul.

I drink from the

spring of your

sweet, sweet youth.

This once unreachable

yet gentle milieu

grows closer as

my pondering lifts

my Spirit. My memories

of you dance in my heart,

as I celebrate the day we

reunite; I continue,

lost in time,

thinking of you.

 


 

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The Blues

 

The blues are playing on the jukebox.

Melancholy sounds swirl through the air.

Its monotone beat enters through my

fingers as I tap the red and white

checkerboard tablecloth.

My sadness a mystery.

But as I look around the answer is quite

clear. The faces I see are happy

and full. Wine and women, a folly to

watch, disregarding the blues as it plays.

Is that my answer I ask, to join in the

desperate search for this happiness?

Alone I sit pondering these events as they

happen. Alone, I feel as the blues continue

to play in the seemly distant background.

Ignored by others, but me.