Tuesday, July 21, 2015
from a letter to a celebrity
I’m on the ocean
The waves are healing me
I’m looking deep
In the cave in my chest
I’m on the ocean
The water is curing me
I’m holding tight
To the magic underneath
I remember these words better than I remember my own address. They’ve been sung into my soul so many times that they’re practically mine, top to bottom. Grandma used to sing it to me before bed. She dreamed of the ocean, and taking me there to live with her. When Aunt Christina passed away, Grandma said she knew a place where I wouldn’t feel any pain. She asked Mom if I could go but Mom said, You’re not leaving me too, not now, not ever. And Grandma tried so long to get me there. I didn’t know how much Mom hated to be alone.
Monday, July 20, 2015
I HAVE A DOG! Daddy saved a little black one from the shelter and brought him home for me TO KEEP! Mom said play nice with Joseph. Daddy thinks it’s better to call him Joseph than mom’s name, Peanut. He laughed when I picked it and looked at me with big Daddy eyes. Peanut is not the winner! I tell mom this and she storms back into the kitchen with the dish towel over her shoulder and tears in her big mommy eyes. Don’t worry about it, she likes to make things about her, Daddy tells me. She’s just mad you didn’t like her name, but guess what, Joseph didn’t like it either. Daddy goes into the kitchen after mommy. How could you, I hear her yell to him. Dammit, Karen, I hear him say back.
Sunday May 18, 2014
from a writing prompt by Natalie Goldberg
1.I write because if I didn’t I would burst.
2.I write because the dream doesn’t sound real when it’s not on paper.
3.I write because my pores need release and I’m never getting enough of that.
4.I write because I like the way my mind looks in ink.
5.I write because I’m dying to be heard.
6.I write because I’m dying to be understood.
7.I write because I tell myself I must.
8.I write because I enjoy painting with words.
9.I write because I hope someone will rescue me.
10.I write because I hope someone will find my thoughts and fall in love with them.
11.I write because I love telling stories.
12.I write because I hate being interrupted.
13.I write because I can’t lie to myself with a pen in my hand.
14.I write because life is fast and I’m trying to remember the best version of myself.
15.I write because in a world filled with stimuli, my only refuge is my word.
16.I write because I want to be quoted.
17.I write because if I didn’t I’d watch too much TV.
18.I write because I think my personality is better on paper.
Saturday,May 25, 2013 at Rustic Owl Cafe
Arnold sat in the waiting room with his tiny puppy stored discretely in his messenger bag. He didn’t want to leave the poor thing at home after rescuing her from under his car that morning. she was tiny tiny, and was good at keeping quiet. Arnold couldn’t help but think what this dog’s story was, and how his life would change now that he is a father. A dog owner with no kids, finally someone to take care of. Arnold’s white hair stuck out on the sides of his head like a clown’s would. He was rather tall with tanned legs and arms. He waited quietly, patting his bag every few minutes to let his new baby know that he was still there, that the puppy wasn’t alone. He assumed the dog was sleeping because she wasn’t even making a peep. He hadn’t thought far enough ahead to plan how he would bring his bag with him into the dentist chair….
He also didn’t know what he was supposed to do with her when they put him under so they could remove his wisdom teeth.