I believe in being prepared for any given situation. It isn't because I'm a pessimistic person; I think it is just good common sense. Hence, I've entitled my blog "Even Nothing is Something."

This covers my butt in any event. On any given day I can feel great exaltation that I have done something grand. I can scribble fiercely when my thoughts are leaping across the meadows of my mind like a happy little colt in the month of May, or my mind and writing can be as dry and arid, as cold and without life, as the Gobi desert - because even Nothing is Something.

I want to thank all of my fellow artists who work through other means and forms and who sell their work on the wonderful artist's site "Etsy," a place to buy and sell all things handmade, along with vintage items and supplies for their craft. They are a great group of people.

Those who have links to their site on my blog represent only a few of those whom I wish to include. Just click on one of those links and join the Etsy community. It is free. They are a great group of artists who have relieved me of my money in the most delightful of ways. If it weren't for their encouragement, I would have never shared my work through this blog.

Thank you my darling friends!

Enjoy my blog - The Poet or Not - More or Less

Friday, August 13, 2010

Well, Here is Something Rather Pathetic, However Appropriate

So, as I said, today is my, our, 33rd wedding anniversary and, while Bruce and I are still friends, it is true that there is nothing like separation on such a day to remind you of all that has passed and how much you think you might have missed. Nothing like such a day to make you wax maudlin until you melt in the sun.

This poem was written today; it might be a bit rough as it took me all of twenty minutes and might very well read as though it took about two minutes.

I Find Myself Alone

I find myself alone
inside an empty
room. My suitcase
is on the floor,
my shoes are at
the door and the
only thing of
which I'm sure is
I've never been
enough and now
I'm stepping out
into the great
unknown where
life is tough, love is
elusive, always on
the run and the
world is too rough.
I can hear the
sound of trains
moving down the
tracks and the
madness of those
long ago years
returns and every
moment in between
that brought me
here to a place I
never thought I'd be -
alone. I find myself
alone because I've
never been enough.
Looking at me,
through your eyes, I
see that the slipper
could never fit. The
doors to your castle
was always locked to
me - a misfit. I'm still
glad that I was with
you when I first saw
the ocean, when I
first heard the waves
in the sea, the sailboat
in the moonlight. I'm
glad we danced to
the music of the night
even though my
heart ended up on
the floor as I faced
the door, heading out
alone. Maybe it was
a fantasy you wanted
instead of me. Whoever
thought I could be
this unafraid of life?
Strong even in the
pain, even when the
lights go out in the
pouring of the rain and
the truth is all I see -
the truth you told me
while I still believed
the lie. Maybe I didn't
laugh enough. Maybe
I wasn't pretty enough.
Maybe nothing was
enough. Maybe I could
never have been all
you wanted of me.
But, please remember,
I am always there for
you, even as I find myself  -
alone but never lonely.

Just a Thought

I don't play computer games. But, my sister is a computer whiz at all things, including games, and some of them I find downright fascinating. For instance, she "owns" a working farm - crops, animals, the whole nine yards. And, she has to take care of it too! If she fails to feed her animals, they leave - a much more humane thing for the makers of this game to do with these animals because at least they don't die of starvation. Her crops will die without appropriate attention.

Now here is the "just a thought." None of my thirteen followers have ever accepted my invitation, nay my begging, to click on the "join" button once again and fix this error of their missing presence. Maybe I don't feed them with enough new pieces of poetry, essays or other nonsense and, therefore, they have just up and left. I don't know who is the most cruel, them or me. But, doggone it! I'm always writing new stuff to include in my book manuscript. Somehow it makes the work seem not so new if I post it on my blog! What a horrible corundum.

In order to make this post of some usefulness, I'll point out to my fellow writers who question this: it is perfectly acceptable to begin a sentence with the words: but, and, etc. The rule making it unacceptable is antiquated; many writers are unaware of this lovely literary tidbit.

(Now I'm really sad - for real. I just noticed today is August 13th. Today is my wedding anniversary. I think I'll get just a bit tipsy.)