Tag Archives: life

Dip into creativity

 

Dip into creativity
A deep black well
Creatures run deep
Under the glassy still water.
Just a cup is all you need
Look close and see
Tadpoles, minnows, miraculous life
Crayfish, seaweed, plankton, krill.
Swirling alive
Unfathomable life.
Sometimes you can catch a big fish
But content yourself with minnows.
Even these
Some cannot catch.
Even these are a boon.
Lucky, lucky, lucky.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


 

 

 

 

after a snowstorm

 

soft, white, glitter cushioned
suspended in chill
bunnies, birds, even trees huddle
keeping their tiny inner fires lit.

life is
hush.

as the air falls still
the stars shine sharper.
unalive, eternal outsiders,
the only things not muted
by the passing of a snowstorm.

 

 

 

 

 


 

Allow me to lessen the impact of the poem with kiddie art, haha. I’m trying to learn how to do digital art now. This is one of my first efforts. Brushes are fun.

bunny

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


 

 

 

 

One Bird

 

One minute left
To breathe
One stream trickling away from the desert.
One bird lands to sip
Delicately, as birds will
Beakful by beakful
The sweet cool water
Life giving, nourishing.
And then with ten powerful thrusts of his wings
He is again aloft
Looking for something
Only he knows.
One bird in the sky
One story
And not much at all to tell.
But to him
It is the only story that matters.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


 

 

 

 

Defenders

 

Ba-thump.
His infant daughter gripped his fingertip with her whole hand. Linda was small, fragile, beautiful, everything in the world. All he wanted was to protect her.
Ba-thump.
Looking directly into Mary’s eyes for the first time. He’d never had the courage to talk to her until now. Her eyes were pthalo blue.
Ba-thump.
Speeding around the curves on his motorcycle, feeling the freedom, roaring wind in his ears drowning out all grief.
Ba-thump.
Standing before the congregation to deliver his final sermon. Odd that he would be nervous now, considering he’d stood here many times before with ease, even boredom.
Ba-thump.
Coming under the blankets just as his mom opened the door. Had she seen? She grabbed his laundry and left nonchalantly. No way to tell. She was a master of polite pretense.
Ba-thump.
Kissing Mary’s lips at their wedding.
Ba-thump.
Kissing Mary’s brow at her funeral.
Ba-thump.
The car rolling over him.
Ba-thump.
Cold.
Ba-thump.
He hadn’t bungee jumped yet. Linda had begged him until he promised she could go, but only if he came along to supervise. She was more brave than he’d ever been.
Ba-thump.
In utero, everywhere pulsing. The voices of his parents carried through to him, muddled by protective walls of warm flesh. “Let’s sing for him,” his father said. His mother laughed. Soon the comforting vibrations of familiar song thrummed into his core. He hadn’t understood what he’d heard at the time, but he recognized the hymn now.
His heart skipped a beat.
Instead of catching, his heart missed the next beat as well.
This pavement was cruel. He was frightened. It hurt. Something was very, very wrong with his body. It felt unbearably still, without a heartbeat.
Linda. He needed to stay here for Linda. He willed his heart into action one more time.
Ba…thum.
Vision flickering. As his consciousness mingled red with the motor oil and spread down the road, somebody took his hand. Maybe it was impossible, but it felt like his father’s grip.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


 

 

 

Journal – On fearing death

 

I am afraid to die.
I am afraid to live.
I love life but it is never enough.
If I had kids I could say, there, I did that, I made something good.
If I were a real writer I could shake the world up a little.
But I’m just normal
Trying to be happy.
Having achieved happy
I fall out of happiness
And must work my way back up again.
What if I get sick.
What if I only have twenty good years left.
What is the difference
If I only have fifty years
Or twenty years?
Either amount
Is nothing
Nothing
A wisp of dandelion
The heartbeat of a gnat.
We are born of an enormous universe
We are fleas
Specks
Motes
Less still than that.
Our time is tiny.
It is easy to forget.
Our time is a splinter of ice
That melts the moment it exists.
Time is my enemy.
Time is my friend.

I write in dichotomies.
I write about time.
To live in that moment before death
To never forget where you’re going
To never forget where you are.
Every second
Must
Be
Savored.
I read a story about a man
Going to his execution.
He tried to split every moment in half.
He hoped that by doing this
The last moment
Would never arrive.
Today I breathe
Again.
A victory.
Today I remembered
What yawns before me
Is an open grave.
How soon will it accept me?
How soon will I accept it?
And when I get to the edge
I want to look back and say,
Yes. I savored those moments.
I squeezed more out of life
Than anyone.
I never
Never
Took what I had for granted.
Everything was precious.
Everything was vivid.
Everything was loved.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


 

 

 

 

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