Wednesday, March 30, 2011

Has it really been a week?

It’s Haiku Wednesday bitches! Hmmm…I wonder if that configuration of words has ever existed prior to today…Forgive my elation; I was momentarily possessed by Eminem. Anyway, yall know what time it is...So, without further ado:

Today is Wednesday,
I had to be reminded.
Ginseng is costly.

Put down your phone or,
you will not enter my lane.
How quickly birds fly.

Just got a new phone.
I think I have arthritis.
I am appdicted.

I had tea with death.
The toll of knell rang softly.
Her black carriage waits.

Words are my one solace.
My mind is the soul’s canvas.
Paintings never cease.

Wednesday, March 23, 2011

Bonzai Daniel-san

Hey, it’s Haiku Wednesday! Well, okay, maybe I just made that up. Fine, maybe someone else suggested it, and then I created it. Does it really matter who in the  

Hey everyone, it’s Haiku Wednesday! I had this great idea come to me, and I thought I would share with you some Haiku. Nothing fancy….just something to put on the blog since I have people hounding affectionately reminding me to update it. I do have a few things in the works: short stories, poems, book reviews, and some random musings, however, I know how some of you like to intermittently hear my voice (and I suppose I should be more disciplined with writing everyday as well) I do not protest, I just don’t always like what my fingers type….I’m such a diva….or a perfectionist. I could be bipolar…I’ll take Haiku Wednesday for $200 Alex…

My dog is creepy.
He sits and stares at me.
I wish he could drive.


I love basketball.
My soul rejoices and sings.
My thumb is swollen.


The Rain is lovely.
Each drop fills my heart with joy.
The weatherman sucks.


The spider pulls close,
The corners of her device.
The prism deceives.


Raven and the moon,
Whisper deep into the night.
The wind's breath is cold.

Wednesday, March 9, 2011

Pinocchio's Wish

For the majority of my adult life I can honestly say that I’ve never really known what I wanted. Well, with the exception of a few things like wanting to fall in love, obtain wisdom, and become a ninja, I have always known that I want to go back in time and be seven again, when there was never a doubt about what I wanted.


At seven, I wanted to build forts, climb trees, ride my bike, pretend I was a soldier, an eagle, or a cheetah. I was really fast. As a matter of fact, the only person faster than me was my best friend Robert. We had Big Wheels and would pretend we were the motorcycle cops in that show CHIPS. We would spend hours setting up hundreds of plastic army soldiers, and then take turns shooting at each other’s forces with rubber bands. I used to love the soldier with a parachute, and the one who was thrusting his rifle forward with the bayonet attached. I thought the flamethrower guy was pretty cool too. You have to be incredibly brave to strap canisters filled with gas to your back. My curfew was when it got dark. Sometimes I would realize that it was getting late, and I would race the darkness home on my bike. Sometimes I won, sometimes my Mother would have to remind me that I needed to win more often.

I always wanted chocolate milk, my Dad’s grilled cheese sandwiches, his pancakes, and pumpkin pie. I enjoyed travelling with him too. We had a game we would play in airports where we would try to guess where people were from and what language they spoke. He would make me practice signing my name. On the way to school, I would read the newspaper to him while he drove, and we would listen to Paul Harvey on the radio. We used to go to the local swimming pool where they played 80’s music and my dad knew all the people who worked there. They all admired him and it made me admire him too. I loved swimming and I wanted to be a dolphin. I wanted water not to go up my nose when I swam upside down. I wanted to find buried treasure, and turn cardboard boxes into space ships that would take me to the moon so I could walk on it. I wanted to watch my dad coach sports, take me to ball games, and have him unfog my snorkeling mask at the beach.

I wanted to be next to my mom every breathing moment. I wanted her to tell me things would be okay when I came home with fresh wounds. I wanted to hear her voice, whether it was reading me a story, or just talking. I wanted to go with her to church, or the orphanage where she found me, to bring things for the children who hadn’t found their angel yet. I wanted to cry when she left, I wanted to feel like she could rearrange the cosmos, which she could. I wanted her not to die. I wanted to take her place. I wanted to see her one last time.

Unfortunately, I’ve had to let go of all these things. In their place, there is one thing that I know I currently want. I celebrate these moments, because they do not come often. I hold onto them like a child does his first sea shell, and I pursue them relentlessly. Now, what I want more than anything is to be able to write great stories. I want to be able to breathe life into characters who laugh and cry, tell bad jokes, and dress badly. I want people to believe in their causes, worry for their safety, and hate the villains who thwart their success. I want them to hate their parents, want children of their own, have their hearts broken, and find true, unconditional, unbridled, and unceasing love. I want them to have dreams, missions, dates, sex, and high school reunions. Most of all, I want them to know what they want.