Tag Archives: Human Condition

June 1 2020: We Are Ill

Posted on by

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.

May 28 2020: Life of Edges

Posted on by

Last night my bride fell down a flight of stairs. She’s ok, but it was scary for both of us.

This morning my grandfather undergoes heart surgery after surviving a heart attack several days ago.

Life seems to be made up of edges right now.

May 26 2020: Shaping an Idea

Posted on by

Baby steps to get back in the habit of daily poetry and blogging.

This is hardly a new concept for creatives—the naturally occurring limitations that necessitate creation and how by defining a thing we take away so much of it. What makes this poem interesting to me, however, was that I was originally thinking in terms of how people interact, communicate with, and relate to one another. Are our relationships really all that different from works of art or acts of creation?

February 26 2020: Pine Spires

Posted on by

Been very much off my writing game lately, especially my poetry. Steadily getting back into the swing of things. Today, this poem just came spilling out. Cringing at my misspelling of the word forest. I actually spelled it right the first time, then the second time my brain malfunctioned and I ended up going back to “correct” myself. Bleh. Anyway, onward!

Pine Spires

2/13/20: Untitled

Posted on by

Mixing up my formatting today. Think I may be doing it this was going forward.

Started off the day in one of those nasty funks we all sometimes get into. This poem marked the start of a turning point in my day, written during my lunch break, almost like I was writing it to motivate myself as much as anything else. It worked.

Untitled

Day 32: (Art)ist

Posted on by

Ever consider how hard it is to separate the creator from the creation? Even when you know the creator? It’s an odd challenge for people on either side, both for producer and appreciator.

(Art)ist

Day 10: A Breath of Agency

Posted on by

Was thinking this morning about character agency in storytelling and how powerful a force it is. Remove it and you remove the heart and soul of the story. That got my thinking about agency in our lives. How do we express it and what happens when we do?

A Breath of Agency

Day 7: My Life is a Game of Jenga

Posted on by

Another poem produced in the rush of my lunch break. I need to get back to my morning writing and branch out a little more with both my form and subject matter. Another block pulled and placed…