Category: Writing

September 21st, 2023

Journal Writing

September 21st, 2023

Junior Moment

By

Sometimes, I swear I might be having a senior moment, and that is preposterous because I’m only going on 40, which my girlfriend so thoughtfully likes to point out. Once, literally I had convinced myself that I was a year younger than I am until she reminded me otherwise. That is a prime example of having a senior moment. Speaking of prime, I feel I’m long past being in that.

Not by any means would I consider myself a senior citizen; however, I certainly know that I am over the hill, but that doesn’t really amount to a hill of beans. Unfortunately, you don’t get a senior discount for simply having a senior moment or being over the hill. It’s a shame because saving at least 50 cents on a hamburger would be nice. Do you know what would go good with a hamburger? The aforementioned hill of beans, that’s what.

I’m sure, at this point, you wish those beans were coffee beans to keep you awake while reading this nonsense. I can completely relate. I feel like taking a nap while writing it. The more I get up in years, the harder it is to get up in the morning, let alone get through the day without one. And by nap, I don’t mean a dirt nap. I’m not that old! What was I even talking about again? Oh, yeah, senior moments. I must be having one now. But yeah, I’m not that old. I merely have a senior moment from time to time.

My feeling is that if you’re still below the age of wearing Bengay and hearing aids, it should be called something else. I like the sound of junior moment, which I can still hear, thankfully, without hearing aids. It also sounds very similar to a delicious brand of candy. So, when you announce to people you are having a junior moment, especially when they have hearing aids, they instead might think you’re saying, “I’m having a Junior Mint.” Nobody then will see you being anything but in mint condition. Also, a mint comes in handy after eating a hamburger and a whole hill of beans. Heck yeah, I still remember that joke from a few paragraphs ago. I told you I was only having a junior moment.

Dragonflies

Poetry Writing

Dragonflies

By

Two dragonflies blue, violet and grey,
Wreathed atop your final resting place,
Beneath the cottonwood’s gentle shade,
In that somber moment tears traced.

Two dragonflies they came into sight,
Glistening like sapphires in the soft, golden light,
Their wings hummed a requiem, a mournful refrain,
A song in your quietus, to ease all the pain.

These dragonflies, messengers from above,
Emissaries of your undying love,
They whispered in the wind, as if to say,
You’re free from your burdens, it’s time to fly away.

In the silence of that moment, we felt your goodbye,
Two dragonflies, soaring high in the sky,
A reminder of your presence, forever in our hearts,
In the dance of dragonflies, your spirits depart.

September 12th, 2023

Journal Writing

September 12th, 2023

Get Your Goat

By

About a month ago, my girlfriend said, “Either marry me or pull my goat.” She stubbornly denies saying it now, although I’m not sure why when it’s probably the greatest ultimatum I’ve ever received. After nearly three years of dating, she was right. It was finally time to do what she asked and pull her goat. So, the other weekend, I decided to take her to a farm that was open to the public. After taking a hayride there, the farmer’s wife informed us that we could go in and feed the goats if we wanted. I thought this was perfect. I could show my girlfriend how committed I was to her and find a good goat for me to pull.

The lady handed us some ice cream cones filled with what I would assume to be goat feed, not ice cream (Definitely not ice cream), and we headed over to their pen. I’ve never been one that is shy to meet new farm animals, so I got right in there hoping to quickly befriend a goat I might be able to pull. My girlfriend was more reluctant, however, choosing to keep her distance from the rest of us, which didn’t exactly help with the horrific incident that would come next.

Almost immediately, a flock of little ones took a shine to me, and I knew before long I would have them eating out of the palm of my hand. I crouched down, poured some of the pellets and corn out of the ice cream cone, and had them doing just that: Eating out of the palm of my hand. While I was doing that, another goat snuck up behind me and jumped on my back. I spun around, furious, put up my dukes, and shouted, “What, ya wanna goat!” Billy the Goat obviously thought he was Billy the Kid or something. I was shocked once I saw my foe. He was humongous! Clearly, this was a goat who had done a little too much goat yoga.

At this point, I realized I was no match for this goat. I shut my mouth and slowly extended my hand, which had been concealing some of the grain. Somewhat a feeble attempt at a peace offering. I was surprised when the goat happily accepted my offer, and I figured this would be the end of it, but, boy, was I wrong. I tried to go back about my business with the little ones when the same goat jumped on my back again. He even went as far as sticking his hoof in my pocket this time. I think he might’ve been going for my wallet. Having enough, I flew the coop and went to be with the animals I relate to better: The chickens. After all was said and done, I learned it probably is preferable to just marry my girlfriend. At least then I wouldn’t get her goat.

September 10th, 2023

Journal Writing

September 10th, 2023

Werehumans

By

There is never enough light in the day. There is never enough light in the night, for that matter, either. This fact is more noticeable on a night when it’s a new moon. Be very cautious during a new moon because not only is it extremely dark, but that’s also when legend has it wolves turn into werehumans. Never under any circumstances do you want to be bitten by one of them, or you might start doing crazy things like wearing clothes and paying taxes. I don’t know about you, but I enjoy going around in the nude and haven’t had any tax collectors at my door for years. I’m not sure why. Perhaps others think there is too much light in the day when I do that.

In all seriousness, though, there are many things to like about the night. The perfect time to get to first base is when it’s pitch black. However, when stealing a kiss, check it’s your girlfriend and not a skunk. Although, I’m sure skunks make good kissers. Pepé Le Pew, need I say more? It’s just that, in the dark, it’s hard to be sure it’s a skunk, not a cat with white stripes painted down its back. No cat is going to get my tongue! In any case, you better beware because if you feel her nibbling on your ear, it just might be a werehuman instead.

Another great thing about the night is nightmares. Where would we be without those? Am I right? Once, I had this nightmare. I was transformed into a werehuman and hit by a car while chasing a fire truck. Ever since, I’ve been afraid to commit arson anymore, fearing that the dream might come true. I ask you: Now, who will make sure there’s enough light in the day, let alone the night?

Wallflower in A Sunflower Dress

Poetry Writing

Wallflower in A Sunflower Dress

By

A wallflower in a sunflower dress, so bright,
A brisk summer shower leaves us drenched in light,
Her laugh, a melody to which she gracefully sways,
She grabs my hand and leads me in the dance’s maze.

Each petal on her dress, a story untold,
In the garden of her spirit, I hope to expose,
The secrets of her world, the colors of her soul,
As we twist in the light drizzle, becoming whole.

Beneath the summer rain, our love takes root,
In this enchanted garden, our hearts follow suit,
As the sunflowers bloom, and the wallflowers shine,
In her sunflower dress, forever, she’ll be mine.

January 11th, 2023

Journal Writing

January 11th, 2023

Now Fear

By

When I was a kid, I wore No Fear T-shirts. Ironically, as an adult, I now fear many things, even getting a stain on my shirt. Whenever I find myself in even the slightest of conflicts, my fight or flight instinct kicks in, and I almost always opt to jump on a red-eye flight over getting a black eye. I will take a trip to just about anywhere besides the grocery store to fetch a bag of frozen peas to prevent my eye from swelling. Furthermore, everyone knows when you have a black eye that only black-eyed peas work. Thanks to recent supply shortages, who knows if they will have any in stock. Whenever I need to go to the supermarket, there is always a certain level of apprehension that goes along with it because you never know who you will bump into. If you bump into the wrong person, they might give your other eye a matching shiner. Another reason I dread going to the store is that I suffer from an eyes-are-bigger-than-my-stomach condition, which is only worsened by the fact that they are both already swollen at this point. Now, since I didn’t submit to my natural tendency toward chicken-heartedness, I’m buying black-eyed peas, a whole chicken, and a 10-pound burlap sack full of potatoes to go along with it. After said shopping spree, and with the rising cost of groceries, comes the worry that I will not be able to pay my bills for the month. Now, instead of a No Fear T-shirt, you might see me wearing the burlap sack with two raccoon eyes digging through your trash can. That is definitely something to fear.

September 5th, 2022

Journal Writing

September 5th, 2022

By

As a general rule of thumb: you should try not to be all thumbs and no fingers. You have to hand it to me at least I am writing about hands instead of feet or missing socks this time. It’s hard writing with your feet anyways. Although I know some people can. The sad thing is that they probably still have better handwriting than me. Thank God for typewriters, right? It’s almost always better to keep your neighbors up all night than have illegible texts like I do. In all seriousness, I would love to do more writing on my vintage 1958 Olympia SM3 typewriter. But I find it extremely difficult to hit the keys with just my thumbs while a neighbor is rapping their knuckles on my door. It’s probably just as well, though, because the last time I checked, one of these relics in pristine condition was selling for a couple hundred dollars. Unless, of course, you get it for a steal with a special five-finger discount, but I never understood that expression since anything worth stealing would probably take all ten. Besides, thieving from the wrong person is a great way to quickly become all thumbs and no fingers, which is why it’s unmistakably better to work for a living. Happy Labor Day!

September 2nd, 2022

Journal Writing

September 2nd, 2022

The Wrong Foot

By

You should never start off on the wrong foot, you should only start off on a couple of wrong inches at most. Furthermore, why do we call it a foot when the majority of people’s feet are under a foot in length? It is kind of misleading unless, of course, you wear a size fourteen shoe. Oh well, I guess if the shoe fits, right? I know, I know. I promise this won’t turn into some kind of running gag. I can’t promise, however, that this won’t turn into a walking joke though. I like to keep souvenirs and gifts from girlfriends in a shoebox. I’m sentimental like that. Not that I’m sure there’s really any other way to be sentimental. Anyway, I keep these mementos and such from a girlfriend in the shoebox, even though a lot of times, said girlfriend will end up walking all over me. See? I said I couldn’t promise I wouldn’t make a walking joke. One time, after one of these particularly pedestrian girlfriends had paraded all over me, I decided to set fire to the shoebox. Now that’s what I would call not only starting off but ending off on the wrong foot too.

August 11th, 2022

Journal Writing

August 11th, 2022

Dirty Laundry

By

You should be careful airing out another person’s dirty laundry if you haven’t learned how to wash your own. It is one of the quickest ways to get hung out to dry or worse losing one of a pair of matching socks. That seems to be one of life’s great mysteries. Is it under the washer? Did you drop it on the way to the laundry room? Or could it be that somebody is secretly stealing them to show others their holes and all and how sullied they might be? Truth be told, feet can smell pretty funky, so maybe it’s a good thing if they are getting aired out. But if you are worried about it or to be on the safe side, might I suggest you wear sandals? May I even dare say a pair of crocs, but someone has disclosed to me, in confidence, that those have gone out of fashion or should only be worn while boating. What does any of this have to do with laundry? I don’t know, but I do know that if I ever find myself out on a boat, sporting a pair of crocs, and they are hoisting the sails—the last thing I would hope to see up there is one of my bedsheets.

July 7th, 2022

Journal Writing

July 7th, 2022

A Grandmother Clock

By

In a festive room is a grandmother clock, which no longer ticks. Sadly, her mechanisms couldn’t be fixed anymore. We had such good times with her, never thinking about how one day they could end. We wanted to believe they were everlasting. It was easy to disillusion ourselves since her hands tirelessly revolved around a continuous circle. This circle was so much more than just etched numbers, but memories minted by family and friends that will no longer be touched by this loving woman’s hands. Although her ticker may have stopped, we can still carry pieces of her in our own timepieces. They can be put back together again someday when we meet our clockmaker, who goes by Father Time.