Category Archives: Writing

Four Very Short Narrative Poems

Perspectives on Judgment and Trust Asking for someone’s help is either an overt admission of weakness—a confirmation of one’s inabilities, frailties, and flaws— or a poignantly human expression of a belief in love and a risky act of imperfect contrition … Continue reading

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Into the Wind

We allow our histories to melt into nothing. We permit memories to dissolve and fade and disappear. I have evidence of such things. Let me explain. The Sandpipers. Do you remember them? They constituted a trio that sang popular folk … Continue reading

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Indistinguishable Facts and Fictions

The horizon, what little I can see of it against the black outline of tree trunks and leaves, is salmon pink. Or coral. Oh, I don’t know; the color is hard to describe and hard to look away from. It’s … Continue reading

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Jeremiad

As I skim materials I’ve written in months and years past, I realize my collected works could well be called Jeremiad. That is,  “a prolonged lamentation or mournful complaint.” Also, “a cautionary or angry harangue.” Those definitions come from Merriam-Webster’s … Continue reading

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Freedom to Interpret

“There is a crack in everything. That’s how the light gets in.” Those words from Leonard Cohen’s Anthem, in the context of the rest of the lyrics, are subject to a thousand interpretations. In my view, the tune is a … Continue reading

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Things on My Mind

I learned yesterday that one of my brothers, from whom I unfortunately have been estranged for more than two years, is in the hospital. He is to undergo a heart catheterization and placement of a pacemaker as a prelude to … Continue reading

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Gender Noncompunction

Background… Preston struggles, almost alone. He longs for love and compassion. But he knows better than to ask for them. In an atmosphere of crushing loneliness, an admission of vulnerability could destroy him. His fragile bones might shatter into fine … Continue reading

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Real or Imagined? Fact or Fantasy?

Drake used to admire writers, especially those whose command of language could bring people exposed to their words to tears or prompt readers to join uprisings. But now he understands that writers are simply manipulators, men and women who strive … Continue reading

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Returning to the Empty Well

This morning, as I am sometimes wont to do, I wandered aimlessly through some of my old blog posts, looking for evidence of creativity and talent. “Looking” is the wrong word. “Hoping” better describes my motive. What I found did … Continue reading

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Island Soul

I don’t know who it was. It may have been me, it could have been someone else. Whoever it was, the undertaking was extraordinary: transplanting my soul into a small island in the St. John River between Van Buren, Maine … Continue reading

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Wishes

To be loved, in spite of legendary flaws To be loved, even though unlovable To be loved, regardless of moral defect To be loved, undeterred by physical blemish All these wishes cannot stand in the face of love’s substance. They … Continue reading

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Broken References

Spanso Griffin has forgotten all the easy, commonplace words. In their place, a complex vocabulary—suited only for erudite papers penned by academicians—is taking hold. He speaks a stilted language that paints him as pompous and pretentious and undeservedly boastful. His … Continue reading

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Reason to Believe

Still I look to find a reason to believe. Tim Hardin wrote, composed, and recorded Reason to Believe in 1965. One of the most popular versions of the tune was released by Rod Stewart six years later. No fewer than … Continue reading

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Skeptic in a Strange Land

When hope crawls out of the dark woods, stepping across the wet ground to the rural highway on the edge of the woods, a super-duty pick-up truck careens down the quiet country lane and crushes that wish for tomorrow under … Continue reading

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Mental Sprawl

According to a news story I read a day or two ago, scientists or physicians or some other academically qualified researchers have determined that anger can be a symptom of depression. As I recall, the piece suggested that people who … Continue reading

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Bidirectional Exchange

Daybreak is a special time, but so is nightfall. Both allow us to peer into the universe from different angles, watching time unfold like a flower blossom, unveiling secrets made visible only to those who expend the energy to see … Continue reading

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2800

Here is blog post 2800. The vast majority of my posts have been, in a sense, invisible. That is, no one but I ever saw them. Or, if they were seen, they were seen by people who were misdirected to … Continue reading

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Thinking It Through

I don’t know precisely when it happened, but sometime within the past several months (or maybe the past few years) I seem to have lost the ability to sit at my computer and produce pleasing, mellifluous language. I think I … Continue reading

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What I’ve Written

From time to time, as I thumb through my writing I stumble across pieces of which I am especially proud. Those pieces capture what I believe to be my inner self, the person for whom I’ve been searching my entire … Continue reading

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Hiatus in the Interest of Serenity

I’ve noticed the decline in the number and quality of my blog posts since my introduction to lung cancer. It’s obvious to me that the reason for the change isn’t the cancer, it’s my response to it. I’ve allowed myself … Continue reading

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A Word Dies When Spoken for the Last Time

For some odd reason beyond my comprehension, the word “spill” inhabits a place in my brain that causes it to make regular appearances in my writing. Eighty-five of my 2,833 posts, around three percent, include the word. Compare that to … Continue reading

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Fictional Writing

Wherein the writer attempts, unsuccessfully, to return to writing fiction vignettes, producing swill and incoherent drivel instead. Coleman Daniel Sprague was the first person convicted under the new thought-crime statutes. The charges against him were extensive. The first count with … Continue reading

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That Miserable Thought

I euthanized that miserable thought, that idea that reeked of the stench of rancid self-indulgence. I ran a spear through its heart and I severed its head. After a day, I threw the rotting corpse of that thought into a … Continue reading

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Published

One poem. Finally published. They (Do South Magazine) selected the one poem I submitted, Emotion. Now that it’s in print, I wish I’d submitted something else. But wishing is an idiotic undertaking, isn’t it? So I’ll try to stop. I … Continue reading

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Experience

Walk through the hardest moments. Walk without stumbling. Slice through the fear with a machete of resolve, tempered with rage and trembling with unbending purpose. Step over the broken pieces of bad judgments turned to ugly regrets. Push through the … Continue reading

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