Summer

Apple pies and blue skies

Kites flying and children laughing
Ice cream double dipped
Sunny days and warm breezes
Smiles meeting and friends greeting

Future brightly dawning
Oreos double stuffed and double dipped
Rides at the fair and picnics in the park

Yes things are grand
Oh we are lucky and we are blessed
Under our own canopy of hope

Stormy Day

Waves crashing
Heart pounding
Grey and black above
Grey and black below

Winds whipping 
Rain slicing
Hot and cold outside
Hot and cold inside

Clouds rolling
Tides flowing
Ebbs and eddies morning 
Ebbs and eddies evening

Hands gripping
Hair whipping
Cliff edge looming
Cliff edge calling

Tears streaming 
Lips trembling
Heart's cry screaming
Heart's cry ceasing

Hope fleeing
Dreams dying
Soul source bleeding
Soul source fading

If I couldn't be me with you.....

If I couldn't be me with you,
I wish to have been a cotton plant
grown and cultivated
to be the finest thread of Egyptian cotton,
dyed your favorite shade of your favorite color.
To be spun into the strongest softest thread,
woven into sheets that wrap around you each and every night....
keeping your dreams safe
surrounding you with love
The nights with you would be the most perfect
I could imagine or hope for.
I would be the envy of every angel in the heavens,
to be able to be so close to you
to feel your skin
to bask in your warmth,
not even heaven could compare to you.

From A to Z

Adoration is what fills me
Beside You I can be still
Compassion is how You react
Delightfully in awe is my state
Energy positively flows from You
Forging new ideas and options
Gaining strength in Your shadow
Home is not a place
It is how you feel
Just as reality
Keeps me tied
Limiting my movement
My minds forges ahead
Not minding the pull of the ties
Ore the distance
Pulling, pulling pulling me ever
Quitting never
Raising my eyes to You
Seeking Your light
Toward You I reach
Ultimately climbing to my desire
Vessel of my dreams
X marks You as my spot
You are magical
Zealous in You I am

Digging in the Archives of my Randomness.......

Part Three

Ok so I told you that I would think about what direction I was going to take and let you know.
Well, I think what I will do is give you the idea without spilling the beans so to speak.
I was, hell I am, somewhat intimidated by the idea of character development and even to a degree setting set-up makes me antsy. How much is too much and how little is too little? And either one can make the story really bad. So I thought that I would do something that would put the emphasis more on the dialogue than on the characters or setting.
For right now the setting will be one location — just a room, but you may not be able to pick up on that initially.
And the characters will be more like background noise — it will be more their dialogue that creates them, or the dialogue of others. Some characters will only be players because they are the topic of the dialogue at that point.
So we will have to see how this goes, the intent is to show some humor while addressing serious issues. There will be some randomness to the direction but that is intentional. My disclaimer up front is that this is National Novel Writing Month — Novel meaning a work of fiction — fiction meaning not real
Ok, I will be right back and we will get started………..
so did you miss me? of course not, because for you I wasn’t even gone.
I wonder would you have missed me if you were sitting here and saw me leave the room?
Probably not, why would you, what would there really be to miss, just another body, just another nobody, just another place holder. It is truly ironic that some people very sincerely and truly believe that the world revolves around them, that we would all be lost without them, that they really make our day, hell our life better just by their presence. And those same people are always totally and completely amazed, even crushed when we do leave their presence, when we — the nobodies — walk outta their lives. How can we do something like that? What are we thinking? Are we really that stupid? Do we not know how lucky we were to be chosen to be their follower, their door mat, their toy, even their punching bag?
Of course they are only responsible for their good actions, anything mean or abusive or destructive was all our fault. Their lies, their cheating, their drinking, their manipulation, their flaws, their whatever somehow all of it was our fault — for someone so perfect has no flaws of their own!
So no, not that you are that person, but you did not miss me when I was gone. And that is ok, I did not miss you while I was gone either. So while I should not be hurt over your insensitivity, you expect some explanation as to why I didn’t miss you……hum, maybe you are that person.
But, you have a different name, the color of your eyes are different, the sound of your voice is different, you smell different, you feel different, yet, the words are the same, the lies are the same, the actions are the same, no you are not that person, but you are just like that person.
“Here we go, round 2. How can someone with a gensis IQ be such an idiot? What is it about me that is, is …..I don’t know? I guess if I knew maybe I could prevent this mess.
Well, I know how to prevent from now on. It is not going to happen again. There will be NO MORE, I tell you. I won’t do this again. I’m done. Maybe a one night stand, maybe a short hot fling, but no more long term anything.
You know what I just do not get, what is so hard about being honest? Why not just say ‘these are the things that I want from you. And these are the things that I am willing to give you.’ ? And if the terms are agreeable to both parties then enjoy it, have fun, see where the ride goes. But if it is not then just shake hands and go your separate ways. No harm, no foul.
Why do people insist on being with people that they don’t like, that they don’t care about, that they have no connection with? I like football, but I want to be with someone who thinks the sport is stupid and is going to yell at me every time that I watch a game. I hate exercise, but I am going to fall for a gym rat. I gotta have my meat and potatoes, but that vegan is the one for me. I only want sex once a week, and then with the lights off and missionary style only, so I am going to ask the nympho to move in with me.
If that is normal, no wonder I need therapy!! If that is sane, no wonder I am considered crazy!!”
“Is that what you think? Do you think that you are crazy?”
“How honest do you really want me to be?”
“Well, that is up to you, but for this to work, you are going to have to be honest with yourself.”
“Oh, I think I am very honest with myself. I think that such honesty is how I can see the stupidity around me that the rest of the world seems to ignore.”
“And what stupidity is it that you see, that the rest of us ignore?”
“Wow, now I know why you charge by the hour. Just answering that question alone will keep you in business for the next year.”
“So is that part of the stupidity that you think the rest of us ignore? The fact that I charge by the hour?”
“Well, no but now that you mention it, it does seem kinda stupid that you charge by the hour, yet we are only in here for 50 minutes. So I get jipped 10 minutes and you get a 10 minute bonus. So shouldn’t you charge for 50 minute blocks or charge by the minute? But then again, you would still get the 10 minute bonus, because you would not lower your rates by one sixth, you simply divide your hour rate by 50 minutes. See that is part of the problem, we as a society measure every thing by money or material compensation.
Doctors do not become doctors to help people, they are in it for the money. Lawyers are not in it for truth and justice, they are in it for the money. Even shrinks, are in it for the money. Money, money, money. Do you realize that I can take all your money and all the things that your money bought you and light a match to them and they will be gone? Then where will you be? What will you have left? How will you define yourself then?”
“How do you define yourself, Laura?”
“I don’t.”
“Why not?”
“Why should I? To steal from William, ‘that which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet.’. And there is always, ‘beauty is in the eye of the beholder’. So, how I define myself is merely a relative perception of physical features, abstract context, and distorted visions.”
“So if I ask, ‘who is Laura’, what would you reply?
“Depends.”
“Depends on what?”
“Depends on who is asking, what they are looking for, why they want to know.”
“I am asking.”
“You know who Laura is.”
“Do I?”
“Don’t you?”
“You tell me.”
“How do I know what you do or don’t know?”

Digging in the Archives of my Randomness......

Part Two

Well, this is day one of our writing exercise. I am not sure that I will actually develop any story line or characters that could one day play out on the pages of even a bad novel, but we will just write and see where we end up.
I was actually still writing away when life got busy and interrupted my writing yesterday, which in and of itself I must say is kinda cool. Maybe there is room somewhere in the dark corners of my empty hall of imagination that might just be fostering some little idea.
I took a Classical Mythology class a few years ago and the professor is of the opinion, and I must say that on some level I do agree with him, that the best and only originals stories ever written were the myths. Everything since then are just rewrites of the old. For our final, to illustrate his point, we compared and contrasted The Odyssey with the movie “Oh Brother Where Art Thou”. Point taken!
I enjoy some of the myths, the shorter lesser known ones. I think that the stories of old should get more credit than they do. It often amazes me how we are so arrogant and egocentric in our review of the past. What give us the right to think that we are more intelligent, cultured or civilized than the ancients?
I cant say that I find us that way. I tend to think that we are not as smart as they were. There were more than capable of understanding the need for balance, they were capable of more happiness, and the show an amazing understanding of the world that they lived in, even on a cosmic level.
They were also great story tellers. Of course there was not much in the way of entertainment so story-telling became a true art form. And such an endearing form it was that it lasted thousands of years, much longer than the written word has been telling tales.
All that being said what a daunting task for us pions to come up with some yarn that will wrap itself so tightly around the reader as to encompass their very being. Aim high. Shoot for the stars. Or just write a good story. Now those are some lofty goals!
I must confess that the one thing that do seem to be accomplishing is the beating around the bush, the saying a whole lot without really saying anything at all. I have learned how to ramble on and on about meaningless thoughts and ideas and not even bringing the topic full circle. If you were sitting where I am right this very minute and I do mean very minute you would see that I have typed 401 words without saying 1 thing. Now there is enough talent to get me a good shot at becoming President.
Some how I have the feeling that the writing that we are encouraged to do for the NaNoWriMo is probably suppose to be a little more focused, with some goal in mind. So what goal should I set for myself to endeavor to reach this month with my writing and rambling? Not selling myself short, but I do not see signed, self-published, first editions under the tree for all my friends and relatives, which is probably a good thing.
I also do not trust myself to write any form of an autobiographical nature. Ah, what luck, a glance at the clock tells me that I need to put on my shoes and go get my baby. But I will keep in mind just what goal I will set for myself and will disclose it tomorrow, I suppose.

Digging in the Archives of My Randomness........

Part One....
I read a blog here this morning about November being National Novel Writing Month or NaNoWriMo for short.  So the challenge is to write a little everyday and then by the end of November we will have a finished book and all be best selling novelists by Christmas. Well maybe not all of us, but if you are an avid reader like I am then you know that sometimes talent doesn’t seem to have anything to do with success. I do not know if I will be able to accept this challenge, but I figure that I will give it a go.
Okay, the idea is to write some everyday. While I do think that writing is a great exercise as well as a great source of communication I am not always the best at it. I see writing as a very personal way of expressing ourselves at the deepest levels and since I am not someone who is very comfortable at divulging my inner feelings I seem to maintain a natural writer’s block. If, however, my writing is not of a personal nature but of a factual nature then I seem to find it easy for the words to flow from thoughts to what you see on “paper”.
I thought for a long time that I was not capable of writing anything worth reading, but I had the fortunate blessing of a very special person entering my life for a short time. Through many long conversations about our different cultures, different religions, different experiences and different histories, my respect for him grew to a level I had never experienced before with another person. With him I could totally be myself, I didn’t not have to worry about his perception of me. I wasn’t too smart, I didn’t know too much, I wasn’t too curious, I didn’t talk too much, it was a really amazing experience. I cherish every minute of it and there are moments still that I miss it painfully.
Since he walked outta my life there has been no one else that has come close to being the confidant that he was. There is no one else with whom I so relish engaging. There is no one else that I so hungrily devour every moment with. There is no one else that I so desire to speak to, whose voice I so long to hear, whose opinion I treasure so much. There is, without a doubt, no one else that I miss so terribly. There is no one else who has walked into my life for such a short time and left such a wonderful footprint.
And this — this is his legacy!
Every word that I struggle to place perfectly, every thought that I pain over expressing effectively, every single keystroke is his legacy to me. For he was the one that told me I should write. Ironically, he told me that I should write a book. I have not, as yet, found the courage to try something so grand as writing a book, however, how could I refuse him his request completely. So I blog; at least I used to. And I think, at least in my deluded mind, that I was getting pretty good at it. And then I hit a personal rough spot and stopped writing.
When that happened, when I put my pen down the strangest thing happened. I felt like a part of me had been ripped away, like I had lost a limb or one of my senses. How could I miss something that I had never thought me much good at anyway?  Why did I miss something that I didn’t think natural for me? What had happened in the course of the months that I had been writing? Had I actually developed a fondness for writing? Was writing not merely an exercise but maybe a recreation? Did I actually need to write?
So after a move that took me 3 states away, back close to my hometown and somewhere that I really didn’t want to be. After getting settled in and trying to regroup and regain some real life again, I decided that writing would help, that it would be like therapy for me. But I had been away so long that I was struggling. I could not focus, I felt no sense of accomplishment. The completed articles seemed lacking, deluded, boring.
I had always chosen my subjects based on what grabbed my attention, what headline or sound-bite had reached our and flipped my switch. So while most of my articles could be considered of military or international interest, I have thrown in some random rants about other things and once or twice I have even touched on the personal. But even when I found a headline or sound-bite that bit, nothing just seemed to hold me long enough for me to put some meat on it. So as the primaries were getting primed, I was getting discouraged. In January, I quit. I decided that personal issues had maybe taken too much of a toll on me. That maybe I would never get back what little success I had enjoyed. Could it be that I might never recover that maybe I had truly lost everything?
I guess we will see this month.