Every so often I sit and run off a list like Ray Bradbury suggested — a stream of consciousness list of words that he would then mine to create his legendary short stories. It would say, for example, “THE LAKE. THE NIGHT. THE CRICKETS. THE RAVINE. …” Or I will let loose my imagination andContinue reading “Where ideas go to die”
Category Archives: Writing
Love And Magic
Once upon a time, in a kingdom so magical it was called The Magic Kingdom — but that name was spoken only in whispers because of trademark issues — the magical king and the magical queen were having a tiff. Now, a tiff is a little more serious than a disagreement but less serious thanContinue reading “Love And Magic”
A haiku-like poem that is not a haiku, with a title that is longer than it is
I never had a dog. And then I did. And now I can’t imagine not.
Cuteness Eversweet
Cuteness Eversweet drew back her bow and eyed the target carefully. A hummingbird buzzed around a lilac bush. Cuteness let the arrow fly, and a moment later a sudden shaft protruded from the center of a bull’s eye planted under a tree. Startled, the hummingbird darted away. “Oh, I’m sorry, little one,” she said. “Don’tContinue reading “Cuteness Eversweet”
The Gathering Hall Under the Garden After the End of Time
All the realities swirled around his brain as he dug in the garden removing weeds. The flowers that bloom in the spring tra la needed room to breathe, and the weeds were encroaching. Suddenly, after he pulled a weed he knew vaguely as a whimsy root, a vast hole opened and he tumbled down aContinue reading “The Gathering Hall Under the Garden After the End of Time”
A cardinal on Whimsy Street
I have been reading a couple of books by Bob Goff, a whimsical fellow who holds office hours on Tom Sawyer Island at Disneyland, and I am aware that whimsy and I have become strangers of late. It’s not unrelated to my beloved, Red, moving into hospice care a month ago; it’s hard to beContinue reading “A cardinal on Whimsy Street”
A lifting
He watched the phrases dance across the page. He heard the melodies. He felt the rhythms. He smelled fresh lilacs and tasted mint. And all the world burst forth from on the page. Tensions, pent up, eased. His shoulders relaxed, having never sensed their tightness. The cascading waterfall in his chest slowed to a trickle.Continue reading “A lifting”