Wednesday, August 12, 2015

August 12


9 comments:

  1. Ethics Violation

    Professional distance
    Do not disclose.

    Damn good at that
    I am.

    In chocolate mud
    of messy world.

    Autonomous you
    Transforms.

    Catch me kite
    On days I’m down

    Keep me high in
    the sky.

    With distance clear
    Hold my wounds

    Its hard sometimes
    To fly.

    When error memory
    Haunts of

    Flight into
    Bramble

    Stroke my heart
    With gentlenesss

    Let wisdom fill
    My sail.

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    Replies
    1. WOW! "In chocolate mud
      of messy world."

      That's an amazing stanza! The poem is great too!

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  2. Grandpa Shultz

    Grandpa Shultz
    was a painter
    for LA Unified

    he only used
    brushes and didn’t
    like rollers

    he probably never
    heard of spray paint
    or just for cars

    Grandpa could look at
    the color on a wall and
    mix paint to match it

    quite a trick
    mix wet paint
    to match dry

    a few years after he died
    when we were first married
    I drove out to Hemet

    for a number of
    Saturdays to paint
    Grandma Shultz’s windows

    the first and last time we
    were on equal adult terms
    a painters wife is a tough critic

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    Replies
    1. I may not follow some of the prompts. The last two didn't seem to work for me, or maybe they need to churn a little longer. :)

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    2. If the prompt inspires you to write ANYTHING then it's done its job. Great poem!

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  3. Those Despised Things

    I suppose
    That it is part of human nature,
    To violate
    One's ethics on a continual
    Or at least habitual basis.

    Now, some may disagree
    With my "little" hypothesis,
    But I suppose that I don't care.

    My truth is based on what's
    True for me and from
    what I've gathered to be true
    from personal observations.
    In that case,
    I suppose all doubters and naysayers
    Have grounds for argument and persuasion.
    Just as in any other topic
    To be discussed or debated, surely.

    However,
    My point is this:
    That my own life
    Is at times disturbingly hypocritical
    While at others,
    Maybe too bound to a certain morale
    Or standard of character.

    I rather not discuss
    To what degrees
    I am disobedient
    To myself and others and social structures
    Including government and religious sectors.
    Even though,
    I long most
    To boast
    Of my wrongdoings;
    Wrongdoings
    That may be defined
    As those very things
    Which well up the most
    Dispicable yet most pleasurable amounts of
    Pride,
    These things are often looked down upon
    By American tradition,
    Christian in essence,
    In which either liberal or conservative
    Find no preference.
    If I were to define and describe my sins,
    I could not find a reaction that suits me.
    I confess to whom I do.
    No matter what I say,
    There may be disbelievers, supporters, protestors and fans.
    To be burned at a stake,
    Though hauntingly romantic it may seem
    In some offbeat and eerie way
    of meditating on and envying
    the mystery and lure of the past.
    I still cannot seem to totally
    Find social and literal suicide seducing.
    Despite moments of exhibitionist whims
    That lead me I don't know where.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Great poem Corrina. Would you post that one from the workshop too!

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    2. Thank you. Sure I will. Your wish is my command.

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