Archive

Archive for the ‘Poetry’ Category

Uncle Sam and the Health Care Scam

July 1st, 2010 3 comments

I can’t really take credit for this, but I ran across it floating around on Facebook. A great hat tip to Bonnie Pharr and her friend Betty Johnson. My apologies for the small liberties I’ve taken with your wonderful writing – call it poetic license 😀

I do not like this Uncle Sam.
I do not like his health care scam.
I do not like when Congress steals.
I do not like their secret deals.

I do not like this speaker Nan.
I do not like this “YES WE CAN.”
I do not like their spending sprees.
Because I know that nothing’s free.

I do not like their smug replies
When I complain about their lies.
I do not like this kind of hope-
I do not like it NOPE NOPE NOPE!

Short, sweet, and fun. I’ll be back later with something a little more serious…

Cheers!

UPDATE: Hat Tip to Jeff – if you’ve read the comments, you’ll notice an earlier mention of our country’s budget woes. In fact, the worst since WWII! Here’s Jeff’s short hand explanation:

To give you some perspective on this story… this is like a family with an income of $23,800 a year having $130,000 in debt. On top of that, they’re spending $38,800 a year, that’s $15,000 in the hole. Oh yeah, you start paying on another $9,400 for health care next year…

Stony River’s Microfiction Monday #10

March 1st, 2010 19 comments


Get a playlist! Standalone player Get Ringtones

Monday Monday, so good to me, / Monday Monday, it was all I hoped it would be… so far! Please, press play 😀 (I still like the Mama’s and the Pappas, so here are three songs for your pleasure) I’ve written my entry for Susan’s Microfiction Monday and am looking forward to my weekly visits of new online buddies that also participate in this fun weekly meme. With the advent of tweeting (though I don’t), it is not just a fun idea, it is a challenging and entertaining goal to accomplish each week. The rules are relatively simple – write a story of 140 characters or less that is triggered by an image provided by our hostess. I encourage my visitors with blogs of their own to join in – the fellowship alone is worth the price of admission. So, let’s get to business!

The Triggering Town (click Richard Hugo)

All the grass is green
and the sky is grey
I’ve been for a walk
on a summer’s day

California Cows happier??
*cough* Bulls@&t! DREAMING!

Try the second song 😛 Had to take that somewhere, so it seemed music might be nice.

Now I’ve some exciting news:  Jeff, over at My Nasty Romance, a sometime fellow traveler in this weekly meme, has a new book coming out soon. The moment I get a link to the Amazon purchasing point I’ll post it here – as well as at my book review of The Gospel of Lazlo. Please take a run through the review, forgive me for not being quite the polished reviewer, and know, it’s a damn fine book despite my reviewing inexperience!

The best of Mondays to all of you, and thanks again Susan for a marvelous Monday meme!

Cheers All!

Stony River’s Microfiction Monday #8 – Late

February 16th, 2010 7 comments

What with taxes and more doctor’s appointments than I care to keep, I’ve been remiss in my duties here. I especially like Microfiction Monday, a fun little writing exercise hosted by Susan at Stony River, that encourages a 140 (or less) character story triggered by a picture.  Be sure to drop by and check out the many thoughts on a single image. Join in and have some fun with the crowd that follows her around that weekly image ;-) Hope to see you there! Better late than never… arrrgh!

And of course, ala Richard Hugo, The Triggering Town:

She saw me timbers on the horizon
and I yearned for her beautiful self –
with the roiling clouds I vowed
to conquer her tempestuous estuary!

Alright, a bit on the corny side, but a fun stab at me fellow bilge rats a runnin’ for the fo’c’stle! (That’d be “forecastle” to ye landlubbin’ sprogs! …er the pointy end up front) 😛 Can’t help meself, bein’ a retired sailor and all… so speakin’ of the seafarin’ life – the scuttlebutt (rumors around the watercooler) is that I’ll be posting a book review in the very near future – featuring a great freshman novel by one of our fellow mates a travelin’ the sea lanes here… So! Be on the look out for a bit of well deserved high praise for an author who is all too typically not quite satisfied with his own work 😀

I’ve a few posts and sites to catch up on, so fair winds and following seas my fine shipmates!

Cheers!

Stony River’s Microfiction Monday #7

February 7th, 2010 18 comments

Susan at Stony River hosts a fun little writing exercise each Monday that encourages a 140 (or less) character story triggered by a picture.  Be sure to drop by and check out the many thoughts on a single image. Join in and have some fun with the crowd that follows her around that weekly image ;-) Hope to see you there!

And the triggering town this week?

[200.GIF]

Great invention?! Arghh!

Now that lickspittle can break up without facing me –

and with that tone “this’ll hurt me more than it’ll hurt you”

That was tough. Hard for me to find a direction for that picture – my brain turned to mush this week. So here I come to check out everyone else’s great entries.

Cheers!

Mau-Mauing the Mockers

February 5th, 2010 2 comments

Amy Kane slays with her recent post highlighting a “bloody effin brilliant” satirical music video by SOOMO Publishing. I urge you to drop by and follow every link she’s listed and join in the conversation concerning our own declaration of independence… and “kickin’ it into the 21st century!” Join in the conversation, contribute, comment. So then friends, get off your “effin apathy” and do something – at the very least, join in the conversation.

Cheers all, and Thank you Amy Kane!

Obeying Your Thirst

February 4th, 2010 No comments

Another Sort of Temple

The shingled gray of clouded
thunder shook me in the trees
on Little Digger Mountain.

Roiling the rain,
white flashes of lightning
seared holes in the sky, and the air

clapped back in on itself, with me,
standing there in the trees
on Little Digger Mountain.

I stepped off the bank,
knee deep, and let the river rush
through me.  Swelling, rain gorged,

the Alsea slapped my thighs.
I cupped my hands
and drank the sky.

Marginally injured, feeling a little creative (Thanks Jeff and Susan), so your stuck with photography and a poem this Thursday 😉

Cheers all!

Stony River’s Microfiction Monday #6

January 31st, 2010 17 comments

Susan at Stony River hosts a fun little writing exercise each Monday that encourages a 140 (or less) character story triggered by a picture.  Be sure to drop by and check out the many thoughts on a single image. Join in and have some fun with the crowd that follows her around that weekly image ;-) Hope to see you there!

And the triggering town this week?

Kitchen Creek collected New –
and Old Age crazies from all around.
Feeling like I fit, I knew I was bound
to fit my VW in that Mystery Hole.

That one kicked my hooha! I’m really looking forward to dropping by everyone’s place to see their take on this photo. I wound up going with the stoner spot in the mountains… a place some high school kids back in the day… Well, they weren’t exactly flower children… 😉

The new header picture is courtesy my brother’s excellent photography up in the hills near Quartzville – after the fog had cleared, and nearer the source of the creek. If you’re ever of a mind to see some truly stunning photography, my brother goes by the moniker ClickClan over at JPG Magazine. For those of you who liked the previous post’s photo, my brother took one of same area of Green Peter Reservoir that is astonishingly beautiful. The man’s an artist – drop by some time! 😉 I promise you’ll enjoy his imagery!

Here are a few of mine (my brother talked me into photography, and I’ve been following him ever since) from the same trip up into the hills. The people on the trip… yes, Einstein is a people 😀  Please click on the photos for a full size view.

Cheers all!

Wazzup?

Wazzup?

Silly Puppy!

Dad, put the camera down...

Eric mulling over the optimal settings.

Yes, I am that cute.

Something Different

September 20th, 2009 6 comments
Fogarty Creek

Fogarty Creek

I wasn’t really sure if I wanted to post this here, but I wound up getting a bit of a challenge from an online buddy about my poetry – having to do with claiming to be “The Skald,” an Icelandic warrior poet. This photo essay and poem don’t really use any kennings or skaldic poetic techniques, but it is at least a poem 😉

Aiden Photo Essay-2-1

Aiden the "Cool"

In terms of “creative writing” I’ve not written anything at this new Skalduggery yet, and a combination photo essay/poem seemed just the ticket to get started! I’d like to write something easy, but not so straightforward, something simple, but not uncomplicated – just something that has at least a little meaning. Try not to take this in the traditional “confessional” vein, but rather a blend of fact and fiction that describes a time with my grandson.

It would be easy for a person to say that I am afflicted with a serious anti-authority  complex…. Well, screw them; it’s great to be right. The real problem is how difficult, painful, and downright mystifying I find human relationships. Mostly, I pretty much suck at relationships and have fought with, argued with, or disappointed virtually everyone I know and most everyone who tried to be my friend… and yet, I still have a few friends.

It is not difficult for me to think that I am a failed son, brother, husband and father, a mediocre sailor, poet, writer, and artist, etc. ad nauseam…. Well, screw me; get over it. I take the advice I’ve given my children; “keep on breathing and keep on trying, just keep breathing in and out.” The real difference here is that my children are succeeding – they are the blooms in this desert around me.

Aiden Photo Essay-4-1

Aiden the Agile

I can also imagine myself at the Benedictine Nursing Center, warehoused, waiting to die and desperately trying to wring some meaning from what has passed for my life. I worked at the nursing center for a short time on the Alzheimer’s/Dementia Unit while my grandmother was a resident of the facility. It became unbearably easy to weep for myself, for those I cared about, and those I was caring for – to weep for that THING we all have somehow lost forever and cannot hope to find.

Before one thinks this is some pessimistic exercise in futility, or a wallowing in self-pity, remember what I’ve told my children – “you are still alive, breathe in and out, be that courageous person that continues to breathe.” Even though depression, anguish, or despair may influence everything around you, EVERYTHING else is still out there – all of those small and good things. To me, this sentiment reflects my geography because this is so much like the Pacific Northwest! “OF COURSE it’s cloudy, but OOOHHH, look how the sun filters through the clouds and trees!” So then, I’ll breathe in and out and do my best because I’ll be in the ground soon enough.

Why the long schpeel? Because I don’t make real friends easily, and that history is important for my little poem about my grandson!

Things a Little Boy Can’t Say

Aiden Photo Essay-2-2-1

Aiden Completes the Log Walk

The ocean splashed and crashed
His little voice away, and I,
Just feet away,
Boomed my voice’s harsh sound that bound
His little body to the spot almost daring him not
To move toward the edge of Fogarty Creek.

His eyes, yearned to yearn –
His thoughts sought to seek an explanation
For wanting to want so desperately
To get his feet wet in that cascade of wild water…

And in he stepped,
Through my warning, and
Straight into my anger –
Soaking his shoes wet with it.

“WHY?!”

His eyes yearned, then teemed with tears,
His thoughts sought and failed to find an explanation
For his body’s unthinkable betrayal of desiring

To desire to sneak
Those sneakers wet.

My anger dissipated on the drive home –
The shoes were none the worse for wear –
And after dinner, while playing with his Legos, he said,

“Grandpa?”

Aiden Photo Essay-7-1

A Gift From Aiden to His Mother

“Yes?”

“Will you play with me?”

This was not forgiveness.
This had nothing to do with a young boy’s utter inability
To say what he most needed
To say
That day.

This was not adult explanation time.
Explaining something to a boy that needed no explanations
About my unjustified anger.

Where?

Where?

You see, there ARE things a little boy can’t say –
But not for want of trying.
There are things an old man CAN say, but
Ought to try not to…
So he will hear a simple offer of friendship.

“Grandpa?”

“Yes?”

“Will you play with me?”

“Aiden, there is nothing I’d rather do.”

Though he didn’t understand my watery eyes,
I’m pretty certain he understood my answer to his question,

“Why?”

“Because it is great to be breathing!
What a wonderful thing it is to be
breathing and alive today with you!”

So there you have it. The geographical location I used to choose my screen name for several sites, and the knowledge that even an emotional retard can look into his grandson’s face on a day like that – and be utterly changed by what his grandson believes of him. I can live the rest of my life on small moments like those.

Cheers all!

Categories: Creative Writing, Culture, Manhood, Poetry, Prose Tags:
%d bloggers like this: