Tag Archives: anger

June 1 2020: We Are Ill

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I am not a political person. I barely pay attention to the news. When my mind and imagination aren’t allowed to wander they are directed at the things immediately around me. I am, by and large, oblivious to the world around me. I am privileged to be able to be that way.

This poem is not one of my best examples of wordsmithing and the subject matter is not intended to be inflammatory. I want it to make us think. I want it to make us feel. I want it to compel us to open our eyes. Because we are not well right now as a nation, as one people under God, and we really need to examine why and think about how we can all be better.

Day 17: Blocked

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Nope, I didn’t forget today’s poem. I woke up this morning, sat in my chair with my notebook and a mug of coffee…and nothing. This doesn’t happen to me. I don’t get blocked! But I did. In large part this was because I couldn’t select my subject matter. Three guesses what I finally settled on. Funny how just picking something and giving yourself permission to suck, just so long as you move forward works. Or at least that’s been my repeated experience. Anyone else?

Blocked

Day 16: Burning Planet

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My heart goes out to Australia, Puerto Rico, and the Philippines.

Burning Planet

Day 131: Burning Race

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Big changes are occurring in my life. A few frustrating ones. Far more good ones. Hitting goals, adjusting goals, and learning the ebb and flow of this new life I have chosen to live. One of the biggest and most difficult of these lessons has been that success can be disorienting and that’s when it’s most important to get your feet under you and push forward.

Burning Race

Day 113 & 114: Storm in a Bottle, Good Dog’s Good Day

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Another double post. Got yesterday’s poem written in my notebook but didn’t have the chance to share it. So here is that poem first, followed by today’s.

Sometimes we have an utterly irrational emotion overcome us. It’s a humbling experience because we know it’s irrational and it doesn’t change a thing. In fact, the knowing serves to exacerbate the problem by creating a feeling of helplessness. Art, poetry, writing, these are the tools of release and catharsis and they work wonders.

Storm in a Bottle

My dog has had an absolutely wonderful day today and only needs one thing to make it complete. Pretty sure he’s going to get it.

Good Dog’s Good Day

Day 136: Watered Down Coffee

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Two bad batches of coffee this morning. My bride and I are, naturally, devastated.

Watered Down Coffee

Day 123: How We Wither

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Heh, today is day one two three. How about that?

Been fighting a bug that likes to strike hardest when I get up in the morning, which is when I usually do my writing. It’s driving me just a little bit crazy.

How We Wither

Day 108: If You Make A Wound A Weapon

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The titular line of this piece came to me years ago in a convoluted notion about how we weaponize our injuries. A conversation with a dear friend had me returning to the line and considering the deeper ramifications of it.

If You Make A Wound A Weapon

Day 103: Toxic Refreshment

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I have mixed feelings about surprises. Some are welcome. Some are not. Today I received the latter kind, which struck doubly hard because I was expecting the former. The original concept was something a little more fecal (with a comparison to chocolate), but I couldn’t bring myself to swear, which is what I feel that particular poem’s muse would have required of me. In the end, I think that this poem is better than the one originally envisioned. Anyone thirsty?

Toxic Refreshment