Diversity and equality are building blogs for successful civilizations
as history so clearly tells us in somber tones meant to sound wise
but those qualities are often poorly concealed lies
of patriotism meant to fool the hoi polloi
into treating democracy like a Tinker Toy
Nations rise and fall on realities
versus ideologies
in the end, humans can’t live in peace
we’re no one’s masterpiece
**
I’m back. It’s been 10 months since my last entry in this blog.
I’m still not ready to write on a regular basis, but sparks of creativity are returning. Sporadically.
It’s not like I quit writing entirely in the last 10 months.
I’ve maintained my other blog – As It Stands – since 2008. It’s an opinion blog commenting on politics. As a wordsmith, I cannot resist wrangling words like wild ponies prancing on the western plains.
This blog is my wild pony. I ride it when I give rein to my imagination. There are no rules. Exploring fantasies and fiction, I find my muse likes irony and mysteries. The wannabe bard in me writes awkward poetry on subjects large and small.
I am a small fish in the world of words where authors rule like ancient kings. A mere peon in the universe of famous writers and lords of literature. I write to honor those wordsmiths who came before me, and who will follow me in history when I’m gone.
I have no expectations of glory. No desire to be famous. No wish to relive my life. I enjoy creating word pictures like a child playing with building blocks. It’s a wonderment that will never go away.
Thanks for stopping by. I’m not sure when I’ll be back. If you have anything you’d like to talk about use the section below to do so. Be safe and don’t underestimate the coronavirus. It’s still here, and it’s still killing people.
Enough said.
I finally hit the wall.
I’ve been posting content every day so far this year. Lately, the results have been poor, by my own standards. It’s obvious I’m approaching burnout.
I’ll return when my muse does. I’m giving myself a week, hoping to be refreshed and recharged. It might take longer than that.
I want to sincerely thank my followers/readers for supporting me this year. You deserve better. The quality of my content has been slipping lately.
While I’m on my journey of healing – part of my problem is focusing, because of the terrible things happening in America today – I’m going to search my inner-self, and see what it’s going to take to grow creatively.
Meanwhile, I have archives on my work since I started this blog two years ago. You’re invited to check them out.
Thank you for taking the time to read this.
(139 words-flash fiction/poetry)
Illegal moonshiners in North Carolina back in the day drove ’40 Ford Coupes to get away from what would have surely been a jail stay…
those Fords took to the country backroads with their highly-flammable loads because they were a smooth ride inside due to their extra stable tension bar, not something seen on every car…
it took guts and skill to drive on a moonlit red-dirt switchback up a hill, but the payoff was worth the thrill…
the idea was just to drive away and live again for another day, so it was a race against a law that the local folk claimed had a flaw…
and some folks say that you can still drive those roads far out of the way, and on a moonlit night you might see a souped-up ’40 Ford Coupe being chased by a stock Chevrolet!
****
Two campers huddled by a fire trying to stave off freezing temperatures at the lower rim of the Grand Canyon one night, when they saw quite a sight…
an old Indian was walking on air beneath the bright moonlight, casually strolling alongside the ruby red ridge without making a sound, and not even looking down…
One camper told the other who was his brother that the man they saw was Levi Levi of the Hualapai, the last great chief of the Mountain Tribe who still protects his people and gives them pride…
and who inspired a source of income that is now worldwide…
… called the Skywalk, a trail shaped like a horseshoe with a steel frame and a glass floor, to some tourists delighted horror, with sides that project 70 feet from the rim, it’s an attraction that brings them in
and the two campers let the fire dim, as they slipped into sleep dreaming of walking Skywalk’s scenic rim.
****
Focus inward if you will
to that inner voice
that whispers be still
listen
breath
inhale
exhale
be open
to what’s
spoken
from the
heart
murmers
in the mind
listen
breath
inhale
exhale
be still
and learn
to be kind
and expand
your mind
life is a three course meal
of baby food
steak and lobster
and mushed food
sprinkled with
a dash of irony
and a touch of salt
some good whiskey
and wine
while you dine
until it’s time
to pay your final bill
when you’ve had your fill
Everything was reduced to a survival mode
when mankind walked down Apocalypse Road
the journey was slow but sure
after each world war
until there were no more
and civilization broke down
in every city and town
leaving few humans around
and those that did survive
fought every day to stay alive
until the Apocalypse finally did arrive
no surprise
but
there’s still stars in the sky
and planets and meteorites
that still exist in forever nights
solar systems and galaxies
planets with water and trees
and life evolving mysteries
He was eating a burrito when the call came in that there was a disturbance at a local Inn…
… the odd thing you see, was the Inn was no longer occupied and hadn’t been for over a half of a century, which poised a mystery to Officer O’Reilly…
the Inn was once a landmark of fame where the wealthy came, but had hit on hard times many years ago, it’s interior splendor disguised by dust and rust, a sad and forgotten tableau…
Officer O’Reilly read the report by a citizen who walked by the Inn that night claiming he heard noises and saw an eerie light…
approaching the front door O’Reilly remembered the local lore that told of a hidden horror lurking there forevermore…
and peeked into the window instead, hoping he wouldn’t see the walking dead, when he suddenly saw a head and let out a moan of dread, because it was moving until it disappeared into the dark interior…
flashlight pointed straight ahead O’Reilly kicked in the front door and plunged into the dark gloom rapidly moving his flashlight around the room…
when he saw a man with an old-fashioned lantern in his hand, barely able to stand, O’Reilly called out and asked why he was there, but all the man did was stare…
deciding he was a harmless old vagrant seeking shelter he let him stay for one more day, and he went on his way when the old man had nothing to say, unaware he disappeared the moment he walked away.
****
She stood silent and still
listening to the spirits on the hill
a beautiful young wiccan she
standing straight next to a tree
listening to lost souls from eternity
whispers that soon became a plea
begging her to be set free
she listened compassionately
but it wasn’t meant to be
her magic wasn’t strong enough
to set the tortured souls free
so she returned every night
listening to their stories sadly
standing beside an old oak tree
dreaming of the day
when she could set them all free
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