tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-86396277015880657062024-03-12T21:31:45.926-07:00Scribbles & Specksthackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04194003471751133196noreply@blogger.comBlogger50125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639627701588065706.post-83173019267336780352012-02-11T14:22:00.000-08:002012-02-11T14:22:22.140-08:00Bored GamesWe pull out the board and all the pieces.<br />
But the rules are lost so you make them up as we go.<br />
We both want to win the game.<br />
But without rules, playing is difficult.<br />
The beginning of the game is thrilling--there are so many pieces.<br />
Pieces and cards I've never seen before.<br />
What is each one for? What can it do?<br />
When play begins, things slow down.<br />
Without the rules, I'm lost. I try to follow your lead,<br />
but I'm not catching on. And I get bored.<br />
Because I can't win a game when I don't know how to play it.<br />
So what's the point in playing?thackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04194003471751133196noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639627701588065706.post-7809708374959043712011-09-25T11:19:00.000-07:002011-09-25T11:19:30.898-07:00Today I am grateful.<br />
Today I am grateful to know<br />
that I don't coast through life.<br />
I care.<br />
I try.<br />
I am resilient.<br />
I fight for what I want,<br />
but when I don't get what I want<br />
I have the courage to keep moving forward,<br />
the grace to persevere.<br />
Today I am grateful both for<br />
what I have and what I don't.<br />
Today I am grateful.thackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04194003471751133196noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639627701588065706.post-28831848266237047202011-07-24T08:22:00.000-07:002011-07-24T08:22:03.290-07:00Ham & EggsHam & Eggs:<div>The difference between involvement and commitment. </div><div>The chicken was involved; the pig was committed.</div>thackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04194003471751133196noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639627701588065706.post-63987969394410375212011-04-23T21:24:00.000-07:002011-04-23T21:24:49.768-07:00The ThinkerSitting awkwardly<br />
with your right elbow<br />
upon your left knee,<br />
your head resting on your fist.<br />
Your body twisted:<br />
A mound of marble,<br />
you sit.<br />
Fixed to false ideals,<br />
you think.<br />
You think,<br />
and you think,<br />
and you think.<br />
Too much thinking<br />
tempts the mind<br />
to the point that<br />
Action is paralyzed<br />
and incapable of searching<br />
for real connections.<br />
But you think.<br />
Not critically or civilized;<br />
You think savagely.<br />
No care for understanding.<br />
No care for whys or hows.<br />
Happy to rest in fragments<br />
content in bowing down<br />
to the idols and spectral<br />
froms that allure the mind<br />
into false paths.<br />
So focused on these statues,<br />
your own statue<br />
that nothing (not reason,<br />
not evidence) can shake you<br />
from your fixed worship.<br />
Thou shalt not profane, touch,<br />
or question the idols of thought.<br />
So powerful are these idols<br />
that no authority can persuade.<br />
You remain affixed in your gaze<br />
to their luster.<br />
Closed. Closed.<br />
So closed that action:<br />
active, persistent, and<br />
careful consideration of<br />
any belief of knowledge<br />
is impossible.<br />
No evaluation of past mistakes,<br />
no sensitivity to problems<br />
and finding solutions.<br />
No exploration or testing.<br />
No trying or figuring.<br />
No desire for a full experience.<br />
The experience that elevates us.<br />
Raises us above instinct<br />
and appetite and routine<br />
and animal.<br />
The experience that sets us free;<br />
Makes us human.<br />
But you in your suspended state<br />
have sunk: far, far below.<br />
Less than animal even;<br />
You are stone.<br />
Bound to error.<br />
Mounted to false ways of thinking.<br />
Enslaved.<br />
Dead weight.thackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04194003471751133196noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639627701588065706.post-62852606647994467402011-04-11T16:54:00.000-07:002011-04-11T16:56:19.787-07:00PurgedYour effect was toxic<br />
Poison slowly seeping through my skin<br />
with every smile, every touch<br />
until suddenly I was infected.<br />
I was choking, but didn't notice<br />
until you were gone<br />
and the sedated euphoria that kept me<br />
in a state of suspended bliss was gone too.<br />
I left you. I tried to rid myself of you.<br />
But the poison remained,<br />
Cancerous, it clung to every cell spreading<br />
and the choking began.<br />
I tried to get you out:<br />
coughing, heaving, purging, convulsing<br />
But your poison was too strong<br />
and the more I convulsed, the more I choked<br />
gagged<br />
Like thick syrup coated my throat and<br />
all my insides squeezing, suffocating every<br />
particle of true life out of them<br />
Leaving them (me) a barren wasteland of misery<br />
How could I have been so blind?<br />
Why was I won over into thinking it "could work."<br />
Your venom took over.<br />
And I let it, but didn't know it<br />
Until I was debased--hollow<br />
And then it was too late<br />
And now I need the antidote.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
And then the days pass, and I think you're gone<br />
that I'm completely purged of the toxin you left inside me<br />
But then the choking comes again and the convulsing returns<br />
And I wonder if you'll ever be out really.thackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04194003471751133196noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639627701588065706.post-48998909337212457182011-04-02T20:51:00.000-07:002011-04-04T20:53:46.174-07:00The golden forsythia<br />
blooms.<br />
Bursting forth,<br />
it welcomes<br />
the Spring with<br />
promises of hope<br />
and life and<br />
all things new.<br />
But its brilliance<br />
and all of its promises<br />
are overshadowed by<br />
the cold and dreary<br />
gray. The winter<br />
that persists;<br />
Withering<br />
the promises of<br />
spring.thackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04194003471751133196noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639627701588065706.post-71861468235147619102011-03-30T07:14:00.000-07:002011-03-30T07:14:55.234-07:00GivingI give time<br />
I give support<br />
I give nourishment<br />
I give delight<br />
I give organization<br />
I give concern<br />
I give compassion<br />
I give hope<br />
I give kindness<br />
I give beyond capacity<br />
I give myself<br />
I give my heart<br />
You give me the reason<br />
to give up.thackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04194003471751133196noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639627701588065706.post-57260126429915073782011-03-25T07:53:00.000-07:002011-03-28T08:31:48.617-07:00I think,<br />
therefore I am.<br />
False.<br />
I do,<br />
therefore I am.<br />
Better.<br />
I act,<br />
therefore I am.<br />
Because thinking<br />
is only being still;<br />
And being still,<br />
you may as well be dead.<br />
Thinking is not doing;<br />
not acting.<br />
To be human,<br />
To be Alive,<br />
is moving,<br />
acting,<br />
doing.thackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04194003471751133196noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639627701588065706.post-64596354488903860722011-03-18T09:26:00.000-07:002011-03-18T09:26:36.034-07:00At night is when the sorrow comes<br />
the loneliness, the fear.<br />
It lingers in the shadows of taunting lamplit rooms<br />
as you fight back every fear.<br />
<br />
The darkness glooms, it penetrates<br />
your soul from every side.<br />
It creeps into each crevice, festers on your weakness<br />
no matter how you try to hide.<br />
<br />
An inescapable prison is the long<br />
enduring night.<br />
Breeding despair and anguish, sucking all that's left of hope<br />
Leaving you too powerless to fight.<br />
<br />
Night terrors rage upon you<br />
in reckless, restless sleep.<br />
Exhaustion overcomes you, draining body, mind, and soul<br />
Black blindness in does seep.<br />
<br />
The blackness begins to choke you,<br />
the suffocating force.<br />
It overwhelms and darkens,<br />
beckoning your surrender to its course.thackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04194003471751133196noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639627701588065706.post-77234004018409473672011-03-17T13:09:00.000-07:002011-03-18T09:27:37.184-07:00Phoenix Tears<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"></span><br />
<div style="font-family: arial; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">(Another from my other blog. Found it today and was surprised at how applicable it is right now.)</div><div style="font-family: arial; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: arial; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">Darkness engulfs you.</div><div style="font-family: arial; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">It is caving in on you.</div><div style="font-family: arial; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">The heaviness smothers you.</div><div style="font-family: arial; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">And in the darkest of darks</div><div style="font-family: arial; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">The blackest of blacks</div><div style="font-family: arial; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">Poof!</div><div style="font-family: arial; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">The phoenix bursts into flame.</div><div style="font-family: arial; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">And when you thought things couldn’t get any darker,</div><div style="font-family: arial; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">All hope is lost; all hope is gone.</div><div style="font-family: arial; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">Burnt, extinguished, charred.</div><div style="font-family: arial; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">All that’s left is ash.</div><div style="font-family: arial; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">Dull, gray soot in a heap on the floor.</div><div style="font-family: arial; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">The soot settles in the somber air.</div><div style="font-family: arial; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">And just when you think there will be no end to this despair;</div><div style="font-family: arial; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">That the dank and heavy darkness will overcome you,</div><div style="font-family: arial; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">The ashes stir.</div><div style="font-family: arial; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">And subtly they begin to take shape, a form.</div><div style="font-family: arial; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">A phoenix is reborn.</div><div style="font-family: arial; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">Out of the ash, a phoenix is reborn.</div><div style="font-family: arial; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">And in your darkest dark of nights</div><div style="font-family: arial; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">Your blackest black of storms</div><div style="font-family: arial; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">A brand new phoenix is reborn</div><div style="font-family: arial; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">He comes to you, he sheds a tear</div><div style="font-family: arial; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">It heals your wounds, your heart, your fear. </div>thackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04194003471751133196noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639627701588065706.post-18898430605200138042011-03-17T13:06:00.000-07:002011-03-17T13:06:09.219-07:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">(This appeared previously on my<a href="http://thackinthecity.blogspot.com/2008/05/summer-scenes.html"> other blog</a>, but I re-found it today and liked it, so I thought I'd post it here.)</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-LN_w62M5UeQ/TYJpTdTMDXI/AAAAAAAAAHc/_Ygt9xSnuFE/s1600/poof.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-LN_w62M5UeQ/TYJpTdTMDXI/AAAAAAAAAHc/_Ygt9xSnuFE/s320/poof.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; line-height: 17px;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; line-height: 17px;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; line-height: 17px;">Bursting with new life</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; line-height: 17px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; line-height: 17px;">Sunlight flickers it's soft hand</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; line-height: 17px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; line-height: 17px;">And smiles sudden warmth</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; line-height: 17px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; line-height: 17px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; line-height: 17px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; line-height: 17px;">Fragile floating blur</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; line-height: 17px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; line-height: 17px;">One gust of wind in the breeze</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; line-height: 17px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; line-height: 17px;">Vanishing to dust</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; line-height: 17px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; line-height: 17px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; line-height: 17px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; line-height: 17px;">Little girls twirl swirl</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; line-height: 17px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; line-height: 17px;">Spinning around, dresses fly</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; line-height: 17px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; line-height: 17px;">Blow, puff, make a wish</span>thackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04194003471751133196noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639627701588065706.post-65056922939088490892010-10-29T07:20:00.000-07:002010-10-29T07:38:02.144-07:00StuckOne day we went to the fair.<br />
Lights were flashing,<br />
Music trinkled here and there.<br />
Cotton candy poofs in the air.<br />
<br />
Booths that proved a strong, courageous man<br />
from a weak one lined the rows.<br />
You proved yourself with the first hammer slam:<br />
the button flew up with a whoosh, zoom, bam.<br />
<br />
I decided to go on the ferris wheel;<br />
Not sure what I was thinking.<br />
Disillusioned by the lights, all was surreal.<br />
For I've always hated ferris wheels.<br />
<br />
I'm afraid of getting stuck at the top,<br />
the cart swinging wildly in the wind.<br />
No one there to make it stop.<br />
The ground too far below to drop.<br />
<br />
So up I went. Around and around.<br />
Stuck in a circle<br />
never looking down to the ground,<br />
hoping that facing upward my fear would be drowned.<br />
<br />
But I was stuck as could be.<br />
Trapped alone on the wheel<br />
spinning, spinning endlessly.<br />
No where, no way to flee.<br />
Wondering how I could fix me.<br />
<br />
And where were you while I was stuck?<br />
On the bumper cars<br />
is where you tried your luck.<br />
But everything just went amuck.<br />
<br />
You were trapped in a corner against a wall.<br />
Continuously ramming your car<br />
into the very same stall,<br />
not recognizing your own downfall.<br />
<br />
You rammed and you slammed your car to and fro,<br />
but stuck you remained<br />
with no place to go<br />
not forward nor backward and nothing to show.<br />
<br />
There helpless you sat not wondering why,<br />
not puzzled, not weary,<br />
not willing to try.<br />
Not thinking about what being stuck could imply;<br />
Content just on sitting, watching people pass by.thackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04194003471751133196noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639627701588065706.post-78297592833621883002010-09-21T22:00:00.001-07:002010-09-21T22:02:15.639-07:00In the beginning.<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">In the beginning we were</div><div class="MsoNormal">embarking on a journey.</div><div class="MsoNormal">A journey that would lead us</div><div class="MsoNormal">into thorns and briars</div><div class="MsoNormal">And sunbursts and cloudless skies.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">We came.</div><div class="MsoNormal">We came willingly, longing to grow.</div><div class="MsoNormal">To become.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">And so we started.</div><div class="MsoNormal">We commenced on this journey.</div><div class="MsoNormal">We met rocky paths and climbed</div><div class="MsoNormal">mountains.</div><div class="MsoNormal">We waded through mud. </div><div class="MsoNormal">We watched sunsets.</div><div class="MsoNormal">Slid down rainbows. </div><div class="MsoNormal">Jumped in puddles</div><div class="MsoNormal">And were blown in the wind.</div><div class="MsoNormal">Some days we grew. </div><div class="MsoNormal">Some days we died.</div><div class="MsoNormal">Some days we felt we were </div><div class="MsoNormal">trapped in a never-ending cycle.</div><div class="MsoNormal">A circle that neither begins nor ends.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">We wondered if we were becoming. </div><div class="MsoNormal">If we were growing or shrinking or</div><div class="MsoNormal">stagnant. </div><div class="MsoNormal">And one day, we looked back. </div><div class="MsoNormal">We looked back on the paths we had tread,</div><div class="MsoNormal">The mountains we had climbed, </div><div class="MsoNormal">The dreams we had found, </div><div class="MsoNormal">And we saw. </div><div class="MsoNormal">We saw that our lives were not a circle, </div><div class="MsoNormal">but a spiral. </div><div class="MsoNormal">An upward spiral stretching</div><div class="MsoNormal">heavenward beyond the stars.</div>thackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04194003471751133196noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639627701588065706.post-43884009006533789132010-09-16T20:54:00.000-07:002010-09-21T22:00:54.280-07:00<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Feast</div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>=.................<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;">..........</span>+<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></div></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre;">X..............................Confusion</span></div></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>+..........................=</span></div></div><div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre;">Famine</span></div><br />
<div></div></div>thackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04194003471751133196noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639627701588065706.post-66217384110747133602010-08-15T21:52:00.000-07:002010-09-16T22:02:25.701-07:00ReleaseRight now I want to scream;<br />
to cry; to sob;<br />
to let the tears roll down my<br />
cheeks while my nose gets all stuffy.<br />
<br />
I want to run away.<br />
Jump in my car and just go<br />
until I can't go any farther.<br />
Until I find solace somewhere.<br />
<br />
I want to dive until I touch<br />
the bottom of the ocean,<br />
until I become one with the<br />
waves and fall back in with the tide.<br />
<br />
I want a place to hide<br />
when everything becomes too much<br />
to handle; when I just can't<br />
be with anyone anymore.<br />
<br />
I want to be somewhere else.<br />
Somewhere I can just be me.<br />
Somewhere I can find myself;<br />
Somewhere far away from noise and congestion.<br />
<br />
I want to go where I can love<br />
completely and be loved<br />
completely in return.<br />
I want to feel whole.<br />
<br />
I want rejuvenation:<br />
A new shot at life.<br />
A fresh start; A new day,<br />
A day to begin again.<br />
<br />
I want a place to rest.<br />
To be free from worry,<br />
Unbound from fear.<br />
A place of security.<br />
<br />
I want to breathe deeply<br />
inhaling life and all things good,<br />
exhaling all things destructive.<br />
An escape from suffocation.thackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04194003471751133196noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639627701588065706.post-66011969799659130482010-07-10T18:25:00.000-07:002010-07-10T18:35:05.973-07:00At dusk<br />just before the<br />street lights buzz,<br />the fireflies dance<br />and the crickets chirp<br />in sync with their flicker.<br />The drooping trees<br />and climbing bushes<br />add to the ambiance:<br />creating what should be<br />a magical land<br />full of awe and wonder.<br />But the graveness of reality<br />overpowers any wish of fantasy<br />and extinguishes<br />the fireflies' magic<br />and silences the crickets' chirp<br />to a mere drone<br />of dead weight and<br />disillusion.thackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04194003471751133196noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639627701588065706.post-60868335517762204292010-05-16T21:44:00.000-07:002010-09-16T21:49:55.168-07:00BecomingMy mother taught me kindness<br />
when she was kind.<br />
Even when others (including myself)<br />
weren't always kind in return.<br />
<br />
My mother taught me to love learning<br />
as she was a natural teacher<br />
who was always learning herself<br />
and made sure we learned lessons<br />
before we went out to play.<br />
<br />
My mother taught me to work hard<br />
as she woke every morning well<br />
before the sun to put in<br />
more than a full day's work.<br />
<br />
My mother taught me to do my best<br />
as she always tried to do better.<br />
And always expected me to<br />
do my best in school, at church,<br />
and in my relationships with others.<br />
<br />
My mother taught me to be brave<br />
and do hard things with her<br />
never-ending encouragement,<br />
her support, and full investment in me.<br />
<br />
My mother taught me to put God first<br />
when I saw her quietly studying her<br />
scriptures, sharing gospel insights<br />
over dinner, and the faith and trust<br />
she always put in God.<br />
<br />
All that I am or ever hope to<br />
become, I learned from my Mother.thackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04194003471751133196noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639627701588065706.post-51189361203989151732010-05-09T20:16:00.001-07:002010-05-26T22:32:20.175-07:00ClunkerFirst it was the radiator.<br />Then it was the carburetor.<br />The tail lights,<br />and a flat tire--<br />you're in for a whole new set.<br />The left gasket goes out<br />The right one too<br />The side door's dented<br />The oil leaks.<br />Then the brakes<br />Then the a/c<br />Then the starter<br />and the battery<br />Then the<br />Then the<br />Then the<br />Then the....<br />Everything is broken.<br />The original is gone,<br />a mish-mash of pieces and parts.<br />An empty frame that<br />sputters on;<br />it's fate looming on the horizon:<br />A used car junkyard.<br />R.I.P.<br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Rust In Pieces</span><br /><br />You're unfixable--<br />A clunker with too many flaws.<div>Told time and again,<br />it must be true.</div>thackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04194003471751133196noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639627701588065706.post-20368170207427996742010-05-02T17:22:00.000-07:002010-05-02T17:41:36.958-07:00Cherry BlossomsIn the spring the time does come<br />when trees are laced in white;<br />the blossoms flutter in the breeze<br />like dresses twirling in delight.<br /><br />The sweet scent drifting on the breeze--<br />it sinks into your soul;<br />it spreads all through you deep inside,<br />you find it's your heart it's stole.<br /><br />You long for it to keep you there,<br />all bright and white and new;<br />New life bursting all year long--<br />Bursting, blooming out of you.<br /><br />But petals fall and flutter down,<br />they go just one by one;<br />the rich green leaves will take their place,<br />their glorious beauty done.<br /><br />And soon the rich green leaves will fall,<br />they'll tumble to the ground;<br />the limbs all sparse and barren,<br />no sign of life is found.<br /><br />Until another year begins<br />and dances in with style;<br />Twirling, spinning, life returns,<br />rewarding life's dim trial.thackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04194003471751133196noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639627701588065706.post-74977315365600431412010-04-05T10:14:00.000-07:002010-05-26T22:33:20.872-07:00the elephant<meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"><meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"><meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 12"><meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 12"><link rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CUsers%5CELIZAB%7E1%5CAppData%5CLocal%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"><link rel="themeData" href="file:///C:%5CUsers%5CELIZAB%7E1%5CAppData%5CLocal%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_themedata.thmx"><link rel="colorSchemeMapping" href="file:///C:%5CUsers%5CELIZAB%7E1%5CAppData%5CLocal%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_colorschememapping.xml"><!--[if 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mso-para-margin-bottom:10.0pt; mso-para-margin-left:0in; line-height:115%; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt; font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;} </style> <![endif]--> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';">It was written on the walls</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';">But nobody read</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';">It whispered in the noise and in the silence</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';">But nobody listened</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';">It shimmered through the lights</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';">But nobody turned them off</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';">Until now</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';">And then the darkness settled</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"></p>thackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04194003471751133196noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639627701588065706.post-88258344061442572372010-03-17T21:52:00.000-07:002010-05-06T22:41:33.384-07:00still writingI'm still writing, but not teaching. I miss teaching. A lot. I am writing quite often, but not posting here, don't feel that anything is really <span style="font-style: italic;">ready</span> to go public quite yet. Maybe soon? Right now I should be writing my midterm exam essays. And clearly, I'm not doing that to write this meaningless little tidbit. Meh...there you have it. This is what I do when I don't know what to write. I start writing something else. Hoping that what I really, really need to be writing (because it's late and I'm tired and I have more to do than just write two exam essays and because I should have been in bed over an hour ago and because I should tutor tomorrow and because I have to work tomorrow and because I am so overwhelmed and and and and and and AND). An unfinished sentence, that just stalls, just like I'm doing right now.thackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04194003471751133196noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639627701588065706.post-88431166199328260372009-03-27T11:16:00.000-07:002009-03-27T11:23:45.987-07:00Quiet. The buzz of the space heater warming my icy feet. Click, Clacking keyboard plucks along. A sniffle here, a snuffle there. Some feet shuffle. Swish a page turns. Scratch, scratch, scruff a pencil speeds along a piece of paper. Beep-Beep...Beep-Beep...Beep-Beep. Silent Reading is over.thackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04194003471751133196noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639627701588065706.post-10030869364113403022008-10-10T12:48:00.000-07:002008-10-10T12:56:01.390-07:00Editorial: Language is Flawed<span style="font-family: arial;">That's right people. Language is flawed. There are lots and lots of people who talk about this, it's not just me. Siddhartha mentions it too. He says Chapter 12, "Govinda," he explains how "words do not express thoughts very well. They always become a little different immediately they are expressed, a little distorted, a little foolish" (117). Not only Siddhartha, but even the French philosopher Ferdinand de Saussure philosophized on lanugages inability to truly convey "aboslute" meaning. And it's true: when you think of the word <span style="font-style: italic;">chair</span>, what do you picture?<br />....<br />I bet most all of you pictured different chairs: a sofa, a nice cozy recliner, a desk, a fancy dining room table chair, a lawn chair, etc, etc. That's why language is flawed. Because even the word chair creates a different image in the mind of the reader. So now what?<br /></span>thackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04194003471751133196noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639627701588065706.post-47954518335736667392008-10-09T06:57:00.000-07:002008-11-07T13:04:42.787-08:00Reading Like a Writer #5: The Atlantic<span style="font-family:arial;">1. Notice a Passage: This passage comes from an artilce in <span style="font-style: italic;">The Atlantic</span> entitled <a href="http://www.theatlantic.com/doc/200810/word-fugitives">"Word Fugitives."</a><br /><br />2. Passage: Now Michael McWatters, of New York City, writes, “I use a computer for the better part of my waking life, and I’ve noticed that certain repetitive keyboard tasks are making their way into my noncomputer life. For example, I recently knocked a jar off the counter, and a little voice inside yelped, Command-Z! (the keyboard shortcut for Undo). Ditto for the time I accidentally ripped a page in a book. A friend mentioned that she recently lost her keys and thought, Command-F (Find). There should be a term for this confusion, as it’s only going to become more common.”<br /><br />3. Name: The author uses a declaration, that I find hilarious!<br /><br />4. Evaluate: As the author postulates on how sometimes language falls short in some instances, the author creates a great deal of humor with the verbs that are used and the inclusion of a declaration. The phrase: "a little voice inside yelped, Command-Z!" is carefully crafted to create a humorous effect. The verb "yelped" is so descriptive and works really well. Then having the phrase that was yelped come directly after, "Command-Z," emphasizes this phrase and magically creates humor for me!<br /><br />5. Imitate: As I wandered down the street, I noticed piles and piles of leaves. I knew I shouldn't, but a little voice inside me urged, "Jump!" It was inevitable now. I felt my legs bending and springing into the pile of crunchy fall leaves.<br /><br />6. Using it: Well, this one is hard because I need to somehow become witty. But the idea of using descriptive verbs and then putting short emphatic statements after them could be used to create humorous and dramatic effects. I will have to practice this one!<br /></span>thackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04194003471751133196noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8639627701588065706.post-89070508984009440122008-10-07T10:19:00.000-07:002008-10-07T13:41:59.281-07:00Things To Do...<span style="font-family: arial;">1. Grade, Grade, Grade.<br />2. Enter grades.<br />3. Plan next term<br />4. Re-read books and stories for next term<br />5. Pick up my car<br />6. Study for the GRE<br />7. Continue writing my paper on my Integration Model Research<br />8. Pleasure Reading<br />9. Eat dinner somewhere in there<br />10. Get ready for bed.<br />11. Sleep<br />12. Get up, ready, dressed<br />13. Get to school<br />14. Make copies<br />14. is that two number 14s?<br />15. Teach, Teach, Teach<br />16. Plan, Plan, Plan<br /></span>thackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04194003471751133196noreply@blogger.com0