Tag Archives: Poetry

Writing 101- Day 17-Map as your Muse

Naval Aviators Lost In Haze,

Seaweed in Longitude/Latitude Splays,

Sea to Wildest Seas Traversing,

Seafaring Lines Ceremonial Crossings,

Tropics of Cancer and of Capricorn,

Straits of Gibraltar, Magellan Reborn,

Sailing From Pollywogs to Shellbacks in Mass,

Sailors Beware As the Serpents They Pass,

King Neptune the Ruler of the Raging Main,

Realm of Czars above Davy Jones Reign,

Golden Dragon Traveling Time,

Poseidon’s Trident pointing in line,

30th Parallel Circumnavigation,

Admiral’s Nautical Mile Celebration.

Writing 101-Day 13-Play With Word Count-Clay Pots


Rich dark soil of human history,

Like a mug of steaming love,

Served in heavy, clunky pottery,

And delivered from above,

Spun by nimble hands,

Formed in our lands,

From earthy hearty clay,

The patina of,

The fragile porcelain glove,

We could not spin away.


Only now our memories will withstand,

The kilning fires we all stoke,

By our own weak hand, a choking smoke is fanned,

And what we fear we will invoke.


What if our thoughts and actions now,

Gave back all we took away?

Glazed not just with good intentions,

But with real sacrifice today.


Rich dark soil of human history,

A gift of nourishing natural grains,

Grown in heavy, clunky pottery,

And throughout our worldly plains,

Farmed by nimble hands,

Harvest of our lands,

From the earthy clay it rose,

But we couldn’t wait,

So we tempted fate,

And we stepped on our own toes.


Withstanding only in our memories now,

The organic grace we sought,

What has come about,

With our spiritual drought,

Is our abundance left to rot.


What if our thoughts and actions now,

Gave back all we took away?

Harvested not just with good intentions,

But with integrity today.


Dark heart of human history,

Will we learn from what we’ve done?

Broken heavy, clunky pots of clay,

What we are, we cannot outrun,

Though created by the nimble fingers,

Of the potter we once adored,

Our careless nature lingers,

And the warnings we ignored.


We can still hold all the blessings,

Back to basic human grace,

We must heal our lands and control our hands,

What we must conquer, we first must face.


Humility withstanding shame,

All false idols left to past,

We can return today,

To the simple clay,

From which each of us were all once cast.


What if our thoughts and actions now,

Gave back all we took away,

Men not just with good intentions,

But with real brotherhood today.


Rich dark soil of human history,

contains the dust from past mistakes,

we can always start a brand new pot tomorrow,

All we need is a lump of clay.







Writing 101- Day 16- Mine your own material

paper bridgePaper Bridges

Paper Bridges Span,

But they do not try to reach,

From heart to heart,

We read the plans,

In our own unspeakable speech,

Delicate as glass,

We smash designs our piers demand,

Never to interpret,

What the hearts language understands,

We listen with our stubborn voice,

What our minds do need to hear,

Pilings sunk in sand,

Cannot withstand,

Paper bridges built with fear.

Writing 101 Day 7: Let social media inspire you

“I can’t decide if procrastination kills creativity or is essential to it.”

~Grant Snider


I am Feeling uninspired,

In my messy, muddled mind,

I hope I’ll focus my attention soon,

And catch up from behind.

I start too many projects,

And have way too much to do,

So I’ll sit here doing none of it,

And I’ll start on something new.

When my imagination takes me, on a journey till the end,

I’ll know I’m finally really over, my procrastination trend.

Day 5 Quote

“All that we see or seem, is but a dream within a dream.”

~Edgar Allan Poe

Parallel to what we know,  does another world exist? Natural order, ebb and flow, still symmetry persists.

If atoms burst outward as they meet when molecules collide, do particles react as they retreat to an equal and opposite side?

As elements extract moving energy and antimatter expands, we may find there is a path to synergy, a new universe to understand.

A Fictitious Writer’s Mind

2015-05-07 12.30.16
I wish to see the everyday monotony of life from a bird’s eye view by asking “who, what, where?”
The innermost thoughts of others’ are imagined with ease by asking “why?”
The actions and reactions of human nature are predicted with each monkey wrench scenario and ‘what if’ possible when asked “how?”
What is expected to happen is joyously twisted into what I want to make happen.
Like a grand puppeteer I thrill in mastering each turn of events, controlling with the flick of my wrist how it all makes sense.
Surprises are even more delicious when they make no sense at all until they are tied up into a tidy ball of revelations at the end.
Descriptive words are too easy and the greatest discoveries come in the form of unfamiliar phrases, similes, and symbolism that ring familiar and true to their describer in a perfect metaphor.
Beneath it all a constant inner monologue reigns king and it pours from my brain -to my hand -to my paper like tears turned to melted silver memories in Dumbledore’s pensive.
I long to express daydreams of what never was.writer1

Knowing You

What knowing you has meant to me, Your existence gave me peace, There is really good in the hearts of men and you proved it without cease. In my eyes the sun shines brighter now, and the stars do twinkle more, Just because you were here, and you were my friend, life is sweeter than before. The curtains all have opened now, the shutters all came down, The window to my soul is clearer, just because you came around. My fears, you make me realize, are my own invented game, They no longer plague me in my mind and no longer cause me shame. The voices are all silenced now that kept my dreams at bay, You believed every dream can come true if you want it to, each and every day. Your wisdom in your life and death taught me that love is all that’s real, Because of your example I will not stifle urges now, for saying what I feel. What knowing you has meant to me , though your leaving causes pain,  Today is all we really have, I will never be the same.

The Wild Blue Yonder

At once an undercurrent of dread and exhilaration,
Dangling on an eroding cliff immediately after being freed from bondage,
Falling into tumultuous waters and realizing how lucky you are to have cleared the rocks,
Surfing speedily through the sea of mysterious potential.
Changes will always come to your panoramic landscape,
You can choose to let the tide take you, or paddle like hell to the shore,
But there are no guarantees.
The safety of the beach can be a mirage of sand,
The waves might have pushed you to do something more grand,
Than drowning in the muck of mediocrity.

For Walter-A Place he would want to go


Tall reedy grasses conceal tufted treasures of downy fur and molting feathers
Dragonflies hum and soar through the remaining sky
Damp cool blades frolicking bare-webbed feet
Eyes focus on dwindling light
Warm breezes dance on shiny threads of silken web
Lush boggy waters
Croaking frogs and singing cicadas’ harmonize
Drowning out loneliness
Billowing tendrils of sturdy ferns whisper “HUSH”
Invoking peace, rest, comfort, and home.