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Shooting Star

Targeting wishes which stretch through the night

Moving toward dreams without fear without fright

Waking in tears from the toil of it all

Back to sleep reawaken to morning bird calls

There’s dew on the grass

Falling rain just a splash

Morning has broken the fall

I rise like the dawn

Stretch open and wide

In the fog

In the clouds

In the sky

There’s a song in the air

There are words in the breeze

There’s a story out there that I’m hunting

I grab up my pen

Loaded with ink

Off through the forest to think

One vowel at a time I will capture

The consonants fall into the traps

I’ll stalk paragraphs through the morning

And sentences after a nap

I’ll wrestle the details

Hang the drafts up to cure

Add the notes and the melodies later

I shoot for the stars

Whether near whether far

Dreaming the life of a writer

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The Flow

Words flow


Pouring from the bottle

Can I type fast enough

To capture every scene

Thoughts drift quickly

Hurry hurry

There’s no time left

I write the road as I run

After ideas, images, stories

The expansion is swift

I must grow to encapsulate

Every letter

And still find time to eat

blank paper with pen and coffee cup on wood table
Photo by Kaboompics .com on
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Art, Music, Writing, and Life

When winter begins to settle in and the days shorten, I just want to hibernate, meditate, reflect, read, and listen to music.

My schedule these days is too hectic to fit a lot of that into it, but I do try. It’s a professional necessity to take a break from the grind, and reassess what worked the previous year. To look at what ground was gained, what was lost, what direction I am headed (is it where I want to go?), and what I could let go, add, realign, or adjust.

There’s the financial catch-up – I have some bookkeeping work to do before tax time. What earned money, what might if I stick it out a little longer, am I spending my time wisely, am I caring for myself enough?

As an entrepreneur, employee, contract worker, I am often pulled in competing directions, and I have to evaluate opportunities quickly, often on the fly (literally while driving), and try to make the best one that is aligned and optimal.

I have two albums I am actively working on completing – one is Mixtures Poetica which is my pet learning project as I put to use in studio what I’ve been learning musically, and create musical backgrounds for poetry. This is nice because song structure (verse chorus bridge) is thrown out in favor of lyrical story-telling or just the poetic form, and the music (melody harmony riffs rhythm) niceties are left behind in favor of an emotional sound support structure for the poems. It’s disruptive.

The second album (working title is the title song) I am working on is in the stage of finalizing how I want to play those songs, and then attempt to play them that way with some consistency. I’m laughing a little, because I love to improvise, so good luck to me on this. I am trying to finalize the song list, create a reasonable order etc. This one has been several years in the making, and may still take a year or two before it’s ready to record. No worries, it’s the long game.

I am finishing up an art commission:

This already looks different because I worked on it today

I had to hang my canvases, because I live in a tiny house, and finished and unfinished canvases were taking up space. My walls were bare, so I just have hung them temporarily until they are finished or sold or both finished and sold.

The framed one was a gift to me from the artist

I’ve gotten a songwriting credit on an upcoming album, a portion of which will be pre-released this weekend. I’ve taken some longing glances at stories and books, and writing idea nuggets, plus a poetry book I would like to get up onto Amazon, and I’m running running running, so I don’t how I will fit more writing in right now.

My guitar lessons involve writing and finishing songs, so I’ve been doing that as part of my practice time. I have a backlog of over a hundred songs (lyrics), and about 50 more song idea nuggets hanging out on my phone waiting for me to have time in a waiting room so I can finish them.

I’m currently designing the art work and doing some copywriting work for a musician friend for the above album.

I hope you all have a lovely holiday, winter break, yuletide rest, and a wonderful, joyous New Year.

May we all have some pleasure, companionship, good friends, and pleasant days ahead of us.

I will be revamping, making adjustments, and hopefully spending some time tucked under a blanket reading. My posts may be infrequent until after the New Year.

Be safe. See you soon!

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I listen to the rattling words

Bouncing through my head

I try to get them into line

I remember what you said

Rather what was implied

Shifting goalposts on a whim

You had me always striving

To try and become just what you wanted

Even though you changed your mind

If I ever I began to close in upon the form

I should be louder, softer, bolder, shy

I could be thinner, thicker, smarter, quiet

I could be stronger, weaker, taller, sicker

I jumped through hoops until I cried

It’s not enough

It’s all too much

Frazzled, dizzy, restless, sad

Spinning in the vortex of unstated expectations

striving always for the few articulated bars

Of a song full of dissonance the key was always


This dance never slowed down from a frenzy

Until one day I stopped

Cooperating in the ragged ragtime rhthym

And set about with drum in hand

To beat out a new percussion

Soft and slow

Long and low

You cannot even see me now

I glide upon the clouds

You cannot ever hold me now

I’m mist and falling snow



And you will never see me coming

You will never see me go

I have entered deep within the realm

Of spirit

A place I never fear to find you there

This is a place that you refuse to go

I know you’re out there somewhere

Spewing nonsense once again

Probably found a target

Take her for the spin

Maybe she likes the dance

Maybe it suits her

I am free and floating

Far from the pages that you’d written

The ink is flowing freely

This story is my own

I thank you

Many blessings

Upside down

I kiss the stone

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I Left You In the Mirror

Maybe you are crying still

Our eyes met briefly through the pane

When I walked away with no glance back

I thought I heard your hand tap gently

On the golden gilded frame

It’s been years since I last saw you there

Generations past

I think I see your shadow waver

Glimpses through the looking glass

I shut my eyes and turn away

This path is long and neverending

Quietly descending

Then loudly challenging the force

Of gravity’s heel clutching fingers

I won’t look

I left you in the mirror

And as far as I can care to know

You’re standing in there still

Yet I write these letters

Hoping that you’ll see

We’ve almost made it home now

Almost there

It won’t be long now

Almost free

And in the morning misty air

Shower fogged and steamy mirror

I thought I saw you wave to me

Still safe behind the glass

I held your gaze a moment

And made peace with the past

mirror reflecting tender hand with pink rose
Photo by Ruba Abdulaziz on

I went into my draft folder to delete this morning’s draft and found this titled, but unwritten post. As they do sometimes, the words flowed easily. When I went looking for a photo, I found this one captivating, and better than the image I thought I had been seeking.

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Daily Poem 11/12/2020

They said, “Don’t cross this line. Beware.”

“Fit into this box. Don’t dare to say what’s on your mind.”

Layer after layer of constraint

Painting the world in black and white

They sold lies as truth

Fed doubts and fear to undermine

The inner voice


Every color packed away

Every nuance, hue, and shade

Carefully stored in cardboard boxes

Every thought set free against

An august sky

Defiance is a cloak I wear

A cape of brilliant patches

Woven in the darkest nights

Of moonbeam threads

Strings of melodies and

Yarn dyed

In vats of amber dreams


Every sleeping color

Awakens with the dawn

The palette full of life will not be


The words flow in a torrent

The storms bring memories

And every thought set free to fly

Comes home to roost

In protective branches of

The ancient sepia tree


The boxes are flung open

The colors call for an accounting

Every shade, nuance, and hue

Will be painted on the canvas of this life

Every letter sharpened

Every word is honed

In black and white

“I dare.”

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Daily Poem 11/5/2020

The letters form words

Building sentences woven

Into vibrant tapastries

I pull them off the walls

Wrap myself in their warmth

In the chill November night

Crumbled walls

Haphazard stones

Held together by untold stories

Fears unsaid

Dreams unspoken

When I awoke the tapestry

Had vanished

You were there

In the spaces between words

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The Letters – Daily Poem 10/27/2020

Write me into being one word at a time

Ink my hair in curls and wisps shining in the evening light

Type me in a soft pink dress hanging just below the knee

With a layer of cotton and one of lace

Erase the shoes from my bare feet that I might feel the earth

Compose music of harp and flute

Played by faeries in the forest

Fill the tree limbs with letters green

Pen bark upon their trunks

Slide paragraphs like rapids down the river there

Punctuate the sounds of water running over rocks

Edit out the midges, mosquitos, and the like

Unfold this scene in details

How my eyes search for your face

When my smile shines at your approach

Wrap your arms about me

Fold me closer to you

We’ll dance out of the pages

We’ll fly and never land

We’re a dream the muses sent

We’re pilgrims on a quest

In the end we must conclude

The ink has dried

The type’s been set

The paper’s in the printing press

Send me out into the world

Hard booked or paperbacked

When you sign the copies for your fans

Allow that it’s for me they Stan