writing

Everyone Has Problems

First world problems, my dear,

First world problems.

Failed to port the number,

That order fell through.

Rocky internet connections,

And no t.v. to speak of too.

A refrigerator on the fritz,

Hundreds of dollars in food wasted

Including several hand trimmed filets

Carved from a beautiful beef tenderloin,

Plus shrimps and scallops, oh my.

Living like we’re camping,

Or vacation with all this eating out,

For a week at least,

Which I really don’t mind,

As long as I can work my 9 to 5.

Him on the other hand,

calling and calling, asking for help,

He misses his dear t.v.

But even he admits,

it’s not as bad as it could get….

First world problems, indeed.

I turned another year older…

What a great gift this week has been…

Jokes on me!

First world problems indeed.

writing

Blueline

The pages were filled with overlapping thoughts.

The ink from the pen finally ran dry.

She thought she had nothing more to offer,

nothing more to say.

Her mind was quiet finally, but only for a few days.

A fit of anger burst forth…no, not anger.

Frustration? Not that either. Sadness.

The discontent still echoed in her soul.

She had opened the book to release it, to free it,

to let it find air in hopes it would escape,

in hopes the flames would finally go out.

She thought it was bottled up and suppressed.

Now she feared she was feeding it too much

by opening up the book to start,

realizing the flames instead grew.

It became time to put it these thoughts aside,

before it took over and ruined everything.

She closed the book, admiring the cover.

The smell of the ink on the paper reminded her

of a blueline proof prior to printing,

combined with Obsession on a teenage boy.

Another reminiscent memory.

She wouldn’t destroy it, she couldn’t.

Too much of her heart was trapped inside

with the flames, the creativity, the desire.

But it had started to take over her life.

So, she placed it in a hard-to-reach shelf,

knowing, one day, she may pick it up again.

Until then, other endeavors await.


Thank you to everyone for reading my short stories, prose, and poetry. My posts will be less frequent over the next few weeks, but please continue to check in now and then to see what I’m up to next.

writing

It’s in the Bits

Confusion abound in the virtual world,

How to transition from the physical.

Talks of bits and bytes and CPU and cores.

Where is this cloud, does it float about,

How do we get there, what’s the route?

Oh, the path, the drive, the You-are-Elle.

All these acronyms, what the ach eee double

Hockey sticks!

We can’t speak plain for terabytes and more,

That would shake IT to its very core!


A little fun on a wild and crazy Tuesday…

Happy computing!

writing

Weird

I’m comfortable enough to show you my weird.

I hope you never think less of me because I do.

It means I can be myself, and I trust you.

We all hide our crazy, our insane,

We can’t live life if everyone thinks we’re nuts.

At least my weird is just kind of annoying.

Probably even socially awkward and such.

I sing in the shower,

run around with my hair a mess,

Chubby around the middle,

But check out these breasts!

I tell dad jokes, although I’m a girl,

And giggle at cat pictures

and hug mine until they purr.

I have a dark side, which you’ve seen,

Walk around questioning everything,

And go through laziness to OCD swings,

But you can laugh at it from your end,

And hopefully smile too, knowing that,

I would accept your weird too.

writing

Well, One More Day

Happiness and joy lighten my heart.

Good news as we hear progress is made.

She’s eating, she talking, she’s standing too!

Amazing how bleak our world became

Just two weeks ago. Now, some progress.

Miles left to go, but with each positive step,

We breathe a little easier.


Dedicated to anyone who has family dealing with a long term illness. I wish them a speedy recovery.

writing

Humanity

Likes. Stars. Sharing of memes.

Snippets, sound bytes, pictures, no more.

Does anyone still crave real conversations?

There’s only so much time to accomplish

A million things each and every day.

What would happen if we slowed down,

Took hours to walk among nature,

To breathe fresh air, hold hands,

To turn off the TVs, computers and phones,

Turn back on our… humanity?

Would we realize all the things,

The things we really don’t need?

Would we discover we are just

Compensating for what we truly miss?

Human Connection.

writing

Coincidence

A grass covered field laid out before the explorers. No man had traveled here in ages. Eons had passed, and the technology had advanced.

Jon tossed up the drone which floated above the field. “Mikaela, come look!”

Mikaela stepped next to Jon. “What did you find, Riggs?” She peered over his arm at the display. Large rectangular patterns appeared in the grainy overlay. “It that…a town square?”

Riggs shook his head yes. “Looks like the old western towns from when the Americas were being settled by the Europeans.” He directed the drone to change position. “See that?”

Mikaela saw an elongated triangular shape on the screen. “That looks like a Church…oh, what’s it called…a steeple?” She questioned herself.

Jon began walking across the clearing toward the steeple. He turned back and waved at Mikaela to follow.

“There should be a graveyard near the church. We should find some remains near there,” Jon stated matter of factly. Jon steps quickened as he neared the spot.

Mikaela raced to keep up with him. His legs, longer than hers, gave him an advantage. When they finally arrived at the spot and stopped, she drew a sharp breath.

The drone floated overhead. Jon turned to Mikaela. “The markers were usually made of wood, but we might luck out if we can find some made of marble. Those will be engraved.

Skillfully, Jon guided the drone into the air, scanning the plot of land to the south of the church steeple. Rectangular patterns started to appear as the radar and X-ray scanned the ground. “I need to adjust the intensity. We may be able to see remains.”

The fuzzy images of what appeared to be skeletons started glowing in the display. “We’ve got something! Look, two skeletons entwined!” Jon looked at Mikaela. “Let’s start there.”

Jon made a beeline for the spot. Then he paused and looked back. He called out, “What are you doing, Mikaela?”

She looked at him confusedly. “Where are the graves? I don’t want to step on them.” It was a custom her family carried forward. “We shouldn’t walk over the bodies. Where’s the pattern?”

Jon thought it was silly but sweet. It wasn’t a custom he’d heard of. He looked over the diagram on his screen. “Okay, go left three steps. Now turn and walk directly to me.”

Mikaela took a ragged breath as she stepped over the vine covered graveyard. She finally caught up to Jon.

“Okay, follow me.” Jon guided her to a plot near a maple tree. He shivered and looked at Mikaela.

Mikaela approached and stepped beside Jon. This time, she shook to her core and looked at him. “Tell me we aren’t standing in a grave.”

He focused the drone overhead. “Step back a step and then one to the right. We were on the edge of the grave I wanted to check out.”

She stumbled through her next words. “The the story I have, have been told is that if you step, if you step on your own grave, a chill will go up your spine.” Mikaela wrapped her arms around herself looking for warmth.

Jon brought the drone down to sit on the ground next to him and arched his eyebrow. “Really, funny we both felt it. I think it was just a cool wind blowing through.” He smiled reassuring her.

They looked over the footage the drone took. Jon pointed out a small rectangular shape. “I think that’s the headstone. Do you have the excavator?”

Mikaela pulled a small barrel shaped rod and pushed a few buttons. The device floated over the ground. “Jon, you can take control.”

Jon guided the excavator to remove the layers of soil which buried the stone. Only a few inches covered the headstone. Soon, the gray and white veining of the marble became apparent.

Mikaela and Jon walked over and read the inscription. The date was not readable. They paused and stared at each other a moment. “That’s not possible…” Jon slowly spoke. “This slab is hundreds of years old.” He read the inscription again.

Riggs

Jonathan & Mikaela

Devoted Partners

Their Love is Now Among the Stars

Mikaela froze, then she giggled and scoffed, “Wow…that’s uh, quite a trick there Riggs.”

“No trick. I,” Jon paused and shook his head, “I don’t understand.” he stared intently at Mikaela.

Her eyes locked with his. At least it wouldn’t be a bad way to go… Then Mikaela waived it off, “You know, Riggs could just have been a popular name in this area.”

Jon grinned in agreement, “Yeah, that’s it. Just a big coincidence!”

writing

Sunday Mornings

Good morning my sweet,

Rub the sleep from your eyes.

Curl up beside me, hold me close.

Listen to all the beauty outside.

Birds chirp happily,

flying through the branches,

The wind softly blows,

The leaves rustling about.

Hold me close, hug me tight,

As I drift back to sleep in your arms.

writing

War

War. A foreign land wanting superiority.

Innocent lives retreating to safety.

Destruction just to show one’s might.

The whole world knows this isn’t right.

Ugliness like this should be lost,

There’s too much toll and human cost.

I don’t understand the whole story,

But hope they resolve this in a hurry.

I fear it’s all about power, land, and oil,

The greediness just makes my blood boil.