Posts Tagged ‘creative

19
Apr
18

Apology to the Valiant Poets of this World

*****

Your hearts are bleeding in verse.  It’s your choice of language.  It’s easier than speaking in clear sentences, instead of telling the cold, hard truth.  I get it.  I speak in metaphors, sometimes, and they can boggle the sharpest minds.

It’s just…  And, I’ve said this many times, before.  I’m so sick of poetry.  I’m sick of my own metaphors and creative explanations when they only cloud the minds of those we want to reach.

It’s too easy for a casual reader to breeze by and approve or take a snapshot of something they understand only as their eyes can see/read it.  The creator might get a false sense of appreciation or achievement.

And, while I’d like to peel through so many onions and find the root of your messages, the task brings a little vomit into my mouth.

I used to write poetry in high school.  It might have been well written, but it was depressing, grim crap.  It was the product of a soul coming to terms with an empty social life and childhood.  It wasn’t very cathartic.  And, looking back, I wish I had stuck with the comical limericks about frogs.

So, forgive me if I slight you, dear poets of the world.  [Though one or two of you might be so lucky to have me grace your pages with my wit and even the depths of my heart.]  I just cannot stomach much poetry, anymore.  [Yet, there is so much of it here.]

Maybe one day you’ll reach this stage, too, when you finally get tired of putting lace and blood on pages, stop scrapbooking life and start ripping the hard, cold, raw material from your gray matter and clenching chests.  You’ll wipe away the mime makeup and expose your scars.

I still wear a mask here and other places.  But, that’s…well, it’s just reasonable defense, considering circumstances.  But, if you talk with me “like a real person,” you’ll get what you give…just maybe in a delayed fashion if I don’t warm up to you fast enough.

I’m not one who sees much value in the word “sorry.”  If you’re sorry, you make up for what you regret.  But, I’m saying it now just to let you know why I cannot say anything good about what you have to share…when I know, to some degree, you seek that approval.

I’m sorry I can’t digest much poetry.  And, right about now, I’m at the breaking point.  I’m full.

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14
Mar
18

Help Me Think of Names!

****

And, get famous (whenever I publish) by having YOUR name (or a pen name you supply for yourself) worked into my latest book (project).  You could wind up a primary character, opposite the protagonist(s), a neighbor, CEO, taxi driver or police officer, for example.

The names I direly need are LAST/FAMILY names.  So, go nuts combining letters, words and/or sounds to get something special.

I am looking for:

  1. A name that incorporates the word “BUN.”  BUN could be any part of the name, start, finish or middle.
  2. A name that incorporates the word “TRESS” or “TRES.”
  3. A name that incorporates the word “LOCKE” or “LOCH.”
  4. A combination of three names (female first, female middle and last/family) that create a word or name with the initials.  IE Jane Ellen Trisket = JET

Submit your ideas to my mailbox (on the contact page) or in the comment section below.

Get brainstorming.

02
Feb
16

Anticipate an Explosion of Loving Thoughts

*****

Every year, when Valentine’s Day looms on the horizon, I get a certain amount of creative energy.  Sometimes, regardless of what love is in my life (which is typically none, zero, zilch, bubkiss), it explodes in some creative form from my fingertips.  This year, a leap year no less, is already exceptionally buzzing with that creative energy like a volcano ready to blow.  Without someone deserving of such Valentine adoration, it’s kinda sad and wasted.  But, it demands expression, nonetheless.  So, anticipate the appearance of several valentine e-cards and related images this year…this month.  In respect to Romania’s Dragobete (which is their Valentine’s Day of sorts), I will indulge myself between now and February 24th.

valentine-magic-bigheart-framed_wallppr-ap1200800-4DJhappyVday2016_OrkoGetsABigKiss!-SheRa-2

04
Aug
14

There Is a Bed–wishful version

theresabed_sensual-bedroom-setting_wallppr-ap1200750-1J

 

There’s a bed waiting for me,
Waiting to fold me into its fluffy, yielding covers,
Waiting to accept and embrace me in its comfort,
Waiting to share thoughts and opinions,
Waiting to make the senseless reasonable,
Waiting to make the arduous easier to conquer,
Waiting to make paperwork and materialism go away,
Waiting to dismiss gossip and politics,
Waiting to nurture trust and faith,
Waiting to dispel bitterness and despair,
Waiting to work out differences,
Waiting to find the missing puzzle piece,
Waiting to connect the dots,
Waiting to teach me a lesson and learn something new,
Waiting to explore,
Waiting to occasionally forgo exploring and be content where we are,
Waiting to be creative,
Waiting to leave behind clever notes and invitations,
Waiting to reward attendance,
Waiting to exchange massages,
Waiting to gaze upon the stars with mutual speculation,
Waiting to share a pizza or two,
Waiting to share movies both good and bad.
Waiting to share fantasies.
Waiting to share games and cartoons like eternal youths,
Waiting to share music, dance and song,
Waiting to share stories,
Waiting to compose masterpieces as a team,
Waiting to craft costumes and attend masquerades,
Waiting to paint the town any number of colors,
Waiting to plan the next adventure,
Waiting to show and see there is nothing to fear,
Waiting to accompany me on the journey,
Waiting to provide time and space for solitary meditation,
Waiting to welcome me back when that moment has passed,
Waiting to remind me why I like it so much,
Waiting to wipe the dirt from my face (or ignore it),
Waiting to nurse my bruises,
Waiting to strip me of my woes,
Waiting to turn my frown with a kiss,
Waiting to dazzle me with her hair,
Waiting to move me with her eyes,
Waiting to explore me with her strong yet delicate fingers,
Waiting to peel out of her mousy disguise,
Waiting to inspire me with the beauty of her craftsmanship,
Waiting to accent the moment with the proper setting,
Waiting to growl at thunder and yelp at lightning,
Waiting to run and laugh in the rain,
Waiting to find a hiding place at the beach or in the forest,
Waiting to fill the space with candles, leaves and flower petals,
Waiting to purr beneath a full moon,
Waiting to roll in the mud, pudding, leaves, sand or snow,
Waiting to get messy and clean up after ourselves,
Waiting to be sensible and not reckless with our passions,
Waiting to make sure we won’t be disturbed,
Waiting to cast off the preconceived notions of others,
Waiting to liberate our senses,
Waiting to rest peacefully side-by-side,
Waiting to let the perfumes evaporate from our bodies,
Waiting to share a hot bath or shower,
Waiting to make the most of sponges, bubbles and lather,
Waiting for a private turn before sharing a spontaneous slumber party,
Waiting to stay up all night and yet not lose a day,
Waiting to be loved,
Waiting to reassure me I will never be alone,
Waiting to wipe away the tears of doubt,
Waiting to elate with a smile when given a sign of hope,
Waiting to rise with the sun,
Waiting to breathe new life into each other,
Waiting to face the next day with renewed energy.
Waiting to pool strengths and bear with the weaknesses of aging,
Waiting to face death without fear,
Waiting to be thankful for and celebrate what we shared,
Waiting to return what was given,
Waiting to move on in peace.
There’s a bed waiting for me.
And, it feels so good to be home.

 

~Writingbolt, 7-30-2014

[In one of my rare attempts at poetry, this is the uplifting alternative to what first

came out as a negative, emotional outburst.]

15
Jul
14

No BODY Wants to Be Wrong

What’s wrong with a few curves? They just help you become a more WELL-ROUNDED person.

As for me, I’m a tad SQUARE. But, I brighten the room with my creativity and wit. I BRANCH out now and then. Just watch out for my ROUGH edges. They can be a little SHARP and result in CRITICAL injury. With faith and a trustworthy grip, you’ll prove a joyful MATCH and help keep the flame alive.

How do you hug a porcupine? You take a few pokes while disarming him with your charm and humbling honesty.

14
Jul
14

You Need to Get Lathed!

Have I told you the intense thrill I get from working with wood? I’m not talking about some run-of-the-mill joy you get from completing that dusty spice rack or bookshelf for your friend or family member. This thrill goes deeper than any man’s “lower appendage” can reach in the deepest of “woman wells.”

Yes. That’s right. If you know anything of sexual intercourse, you know the language I am speaking. You also know some version of the feeling. But, if I am not using the infamous tool of innuendo, am I seriously comparing “hot sex” to carpentry?

I am. There’s just one problem. Well, there’s more than one. But, I’m only focusing on one at the moment because more would probably blow both our “computer laundered” minds. [You know, how some articles of clothing get shrunk in the wash. There ya go. You got it. Right?] If I am not careful, my crafting could result in the creation of a birdhouse. I know it might sound crazy, but it’s true. I put myself to work for the thrill of it, and, suddenly, I’m staring at a birdhouse. But, I don’t want this.

If you ask me, there are already way too many birdhouses out there in the world. Heck. Birds are quite capable themselves of making nests in all sorts of places. Why do we need more?

So, to prevent this, I must wear special protection. And, if I share my skills with any women in this world, it seems vital that they too use protection lest they end up with a birdhouse they cannot fully enjoy. Unfortunately, the female version risks the function of internal organs with the potential for side effects spanning a lifetime. Luckily, more women than men seem content with finding a place in their lives for my unwanted sparrow shacks. I guess the risk of their lives seems less threatening than the loss/destruction of a birdhouse.

Knowing that protection was created by someone no more capable of invention than myself, it’s flawed at best. And, when the flaw reveals itself, guess what? You got it. I’m staring at yet another unwanted, unintended pigeon poop coop. These things are eating up my resources, including living space, and they’re starting to get on my nerves. But, I can’t give up the pursuit of that singular thrill. Can I?

If you’re tuning out or thinking I’m some sex-starved fool, dude (or dudette), you need to get lathed. Or, in other words, go file, drill, wrench, plumb, jack, plunger, pump, punch and/or hammer yourself. All it takes is for the fire of trending to spark a revolution.

If you’re going to get your hands dirty, do it without affecting the lives of others or be prepared for a surplus (or shortage) of robin roosts. Give a hoot; don’t contribute to the plagues of all mankind. Labor responsibly.

[In all seriousness as an artist, I prefer to work with pencil/pen and paper or clay, myself. But, to each their own.]

24
Jun
14

If I Created Everything That Entered My Imagination…

 

 

…I’d quickly run out of space and run the risk of exhausting the world’s resources. 

 

I have countless “seed” ideas for movies, books/stories, cartoons, bird houses….you name it.  Give me a niche that needs filling, and I’ll likely fill the gap with something refreshing/mind-blowing (provided you like what I invent).  But, I can’t see how I’d ever complete every project I think of all by myself…nor where I’d store them all.

I see plenty of talents creating larger and larger portfolios/galleries of work.  And, I can’t help wondering where they put it all.  How much it costs them.  And, who lovingly supports/accepts them and all their “clutter.”  What a different world that seems to be from what I’ve had to contend with…and how I now look at crafting/creating anything.  I look in a direction more practical and beneficial than I once did as a kid.  Yet, so many others seem free to be kids and create as they please without any fear of consequence or making the errors they consistently make.

Am I “old,” “wise” or something worse?




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