creative writing

Not much going on today. Working on some freelance writing to pay the bills, and trying to think of titles for my amazon series idea. Worked on novel a bit. Writing a blog post. Sometimes it feels like there are too many projects going. How the hell do you come up with a good title, anyway? The idea is pretty much fleshed out, now I just need a good title. It’s always the damn title that gets me.


So, July has come and gone. I figured I would report my end of month stats, as a little progress marker. Might make this a regular thing. Might not. Probably will though. Let’s see. I started posting in this blog regularly in February of this year. Since then, the stats are as follows. 2017 total views: 5.5k Highest month for views (June): 1.9k July: 1.5k Followers: 324 Took a bit of a hiatus in July due to vacation. Hope to ramp it up again for August. I’ll have to find some way to distract myself from the fact that I’m […]

End of Month Stats

Beset with difficulties Not diffident Nor remorseful He traipses across the vast clay territory Not quite judicious Not exactly seeking redemption Our Beleaguered POTUS pens a letter The ink a never-ending supply of reprisal What is a man to do when the plain folds up and turns to the sky? Loyalty is trending now A mighty royal word only used in the worst of cases Redefined constantly by a blue-blooded bastard* *But trump (with a lowercase “t”) isn’t royalty. Has it ever occurred to “the people” that such historical analogies fuel the narrative of being untouchable, superior, and above it […]

President Trump, Our Beleaguered POTUS

The last post I made on here was 9 days ago. I think this is because I’ve resumed writing on my novel again and have a difficult time juggling many creative projects and sustaining interest in them simultaneously. What a monumental task this has been! It started out as a short story, then I wrote an extension to that story. Not satisfied with that, I wrote a replacement for that extension, only to finally decide to merge the two and write a novel. So far I’ve finished one novella, (which was actually one long poem with not very good dialogue), […]

Ebb and Flow of Writing

Hey all, sorry I’ve been AWOL the last several days. I’ve been visiting my ancestral estate (and by “ancestral” I mean purchased a few months ago). It’s incredibly serene here, with the trees, the silvery sky, the lush grass, and even turkeys who’ll be joyous until November. There have been so many events lately to drape a surreal curtain over, the G-20 summit, Trump Jr, Bernie Sanders and the hidden, seedy underbelly of Vermont. 74 words in and I’m already feeling intimidated! I haven’t even mentioned James Comey yet, oh wait I just did. He’s emerging again from his pile […]

Scarcity is a Virtue

That one word started to sound funny And his magic number floated out to sea Causing uncertainty to settle on a dark mass Change set down roots Permeating the vile dirt Growing inside while burgeoning on the outside Peacocking its skeletal limbs Still obscuring the night sky with an oak ribcage The finest wood must’ve been imported from somewhere From where it didn’t matter But influence came from inscrutable craftsmanship with an american stamp  


Lo, a fever dream had taken hold In midday Maine The heavenly disk shot across a mind’s horizon Leaving nothing but streaks of color They weren’t hope But momentary entertainment Little caskets Shaking darlings Cackling statesmen All those collided in an endless galaxy Waiting for reprieve But supposedly nature didn’t give second chances Only brief rainbow rays of fortune Maybe the statesmen were right Under the new laws However unwritten or pushed into the future That children were just passengers Waiting for their caskets to slow down or speed up Passenger

Opioids, A Fever Dream

A Rex Walketh about Like a roaring lion Devouring the Capitol Causing disgrace Swinging among tweets Hopscotching over a turtle The Rex comments on its own Gigantic head Woefully short arms Ineffectual hunting skills Beady dead eyes waiting for the end of the world The turtle’s shadow dwarfs a now mighty carcass Waiting to be unseen For the inevitable to transpire Everything seemed cleansed already As scalpels were removed and stethoscopes sheathed The turtle smiled in satisfaction as its green skin Flowed from cavity to cavity Hidden by fiscal grace And messages from eternal fire Snack

Mitch McConnell/Trump Dance of Death

An ancient debate Was resurrected A civil war obscured by elephants locking tusks The well-worn GOP Looked forward to a break As lush deltas increased their humidity in anticipation One senator began to sweat, thinking about the future Shivering and feeling not anchored to this world He fainted, dreaming of a noble and soft-stepping president Of criticizing dulcet tones and tan suits And bridges from Barack letting the golden gates flow It wasn’t fair, he thought That a senator would have to work so hard In the chest-crushing heat Where was the respect for elderly persons? The senator fell through a […]

Obamacare and a Fragmented American Mind

If the mechanical face were turned on its head It would shine forever As things stood though The sphere was already looking to new horizons Lakes grew to accommodate A dying dwarf Since it had spoken Causing all bodies To heed extraterrestrial flames No will had been written yet So everything still churned in chaos Waiting to be released via Daily Prompt: Sunny

Mechanical Shining Dwarf

Too late for sorrow It was malice that provided sustenance If only Plan A had worked out That would’ve meant the universe was on his side But there would be other plans more efficient More palatable to the grand scheme of things Something akin to diving grace would strike at any moment The road offered some peace of mind Waiting as it did to existence in his mind’s eye Only some miles to go before mild redemption Maybe they rolled out like a beautiful quilt To test a demigod’s patience And make him stronger

A Narcissist’s Trinket

Jared stared out at the lush green “clouds” for awhile, imagining that anything below didn’t warrant his attention because he was so far above them. In reality, they were just trees that would die, and he wasn’t so much far above them as he was just barely. Still, just barely could be stretched to create a world’s length between him and the motley crew below. An angry orange sphere was falling in slow motion through the green canopy dotted with rooftops. Some chimneys jutted from the canopy too, trying to capture their meager slices of color before the moon came […]

State of Emergency, Part 3

To fear the contraption Is unholy Why cringe at the thing That will remove what ails you? Your expression isn’t improving Indeed it’s only darkening This seems like a malady I can’t cure The petulance The cringing They are symptoms of a wraith-like madness Were you bitten by a wraith lately? A phantasm or perhaps a different form of otherness? Prognosis isn’t good Let’s pray to the gods of science After all, they are the sages that have made this couch and even your cringing possible Cringe

On the Altar of Heaven and Objectivity

A gargoyle fell through space and time Landing on top of concrete City unknown Date unknown Level of human advancement irrelevant Vagueness felt good for awhile Possibilities dotted the skyline Maybe some other motivation had planted its foot Buildings aspired to be among clouds for different reasons Then a conversation took place Meanwhile talons tapped impenetrable floors Thinking it would be nice to end the other being What happened next was an illusion Filtered through the rain and moonlight They tossed aside prejudices In favor of grit and truth Illusion

First Impression

It rose from the white rectangle Not even half a man Maybe three quarters if it was lucky Finally free, it assaulted the oak plains Running wild and swiping at children’s fortresses Trying to gain a sense of self Or at least food for the cold night ahead But it forgot to chase the light Which went away at the speed of itself So the paper being fumbled around in the dark Trying to find a structure it hadn’t destroyed It got lucky again Huddling alone in a garish bunker Wondering when the light would return Paper

Rising From the Sheet

You know, I’ve been trying to stick to my A Wasteland President series. While I posted another installment yesterday, I’m just not feeling it at the moment. Mind is in a “warning! warning!” state, so politics naturally is losing its luster. I’ll probably go back to it eventually, but in the meantime I might write fiction that goes with the grain rather than upstream, which sounds like it’ll be less rebellious, but the opposite is true. But I just got to thinking. Politics doesn’t need to be in the foreground to persevere. You can write on topics relevant to current life […]

Warning! Warning!

It was still dark when Donald raided another Shocko Bell. The stars glittered as he casually devoured the chicken tacos placed haphazardly on his lap. He didn’t know what Barack was on about. Go up to the counter, ask for good, receive food. Simple as that. Plus, he was showing the world that he didn’t need the Secret Service or private jets or adulation to survive. He could survive on the purified nut of mother nature. The parking lot of the Shocko Bell was understandably empty, except for Donald of course. More cow-faced cats prowled beyond the lights provided by […]

A Wasteland President, Part 16

Another game Another round through the tunnels that be The beast took a clever route Not wanting fire to lick its heels But flames were subservient too Waiting for wood or delicious mushrooms Nothing a canine human hybrid could really do Except to just keep taking those clever routes Hoping that another path out of the labyrinth would appear Hybrids always went in circles though Mechanically and with a certain rhythm Up, down, right, left The timing was impeccable Orange knives licked arrows in all directions Knowing self-obsolescence was near And that omnipotence was a step away  

Always a Frenzy

It was a game of daises Placed carefully on the floor of the vast chamber The shadows helped Keep royalty in line But the artificial lakes helped too Requiring resources to cross And resilience to make the journey profitable One leader and her crew built a raft to cross the mighty lake Anything could’ve been over there The journey would probably be worth the trouble Since domestic royalty was a little too fierce for her liking So the mystery seemed less challenging by comparison And they crossed with aplomb via Daily Prompt: Create

The Chamber

He was labeled a paragon of the left “And rightly so” The other side said But there was something insidious going on Something that went bump in the midday sun Only to level out and hide in the dark Even the atmosphere was captured properly on cameras Correct angles had to be verified So that death or violence could be associated with something else And a withering lens could see blood spilled on the bases as a home run Truly a different age A gilded goblet Given by up above Paragon

The Better Paragons of Our Nature

He was an ethical gent with a beard She, the sentinel of the wagon’s interior They both had important jobs This trail was deadly It could turn into the gates of heaven in the blink of eye She looked upon his beard lovingly He stroked it thoughtfully They were mindful of various diseases And the unpleasant dead ends life could create The lil’ sprouts swayed in the back of the wagon Laughing with a sense of purpose He combed his fingers through a trail of grey hair She reprimanded those that swayed Everything seemed to be going well Then she […]

The Ol’ Wagon

The beloved bat looked forlornly at the wall made up of crushed gallons of milk. His sidekick was looking at the wall too, squinting at the harsh sunlight. “When do you think it will end, Batman?” “The madness, you mean?” “No, I meant the sunlight,” his sidekick said. The beloved bat looked at his sidekick, who was gangly-looking and wearing bright red lipstick. “I don’t suppose you’d consider changing colors? You might look less garish.” The Prince of Green looked at the bat. “Red wards off the run. And besides, it complements my hair.” “I can’t argue with royalty,” the […]

Adam West Fiction “One Final Labyrinth”

They gave meaning to a vast horizon But the trees were slowly tapering to a green keyhole Which was surrounded by desert There was no use racing to the finish line It was reducing quickly He wouldn’t make it in time How would he fill an eternity in the desert, then? He couldn’t count grains of sand forever At least not without cracking There had to be a way to reach the keyhole Though it had diminished even more Changing to a tired green Surprisingly, he made it just as the oasis was cutting off reality A dilemma presented itself […]

Trees Taper

Finding stomping grounds While massaging tiled floors It always ends the same way With claws outstretched Stemming from a helping hand Oh well Back to the sea he goes The waves are always welcoming Offering streams of fish And learning possibilities Not to mention a good cave or two They will never grow any larger though So he rests on the floor with skeletal ornaments Broken ships Intact dreams A perplexed eel swims by He stares at it curiously Two can play at that game  

Wayward Creature

The streets lose their structural integrity Making way for loud music So incredibly loud Music so mighty it plays eardrums The beats become louder Assaulting human with “thud” and “deeper thud” Pain receptors cajole a mind for influence But it would have none of it Only pleasure Pleasure and confusion Asphalt is now only reachable via hazmat suit and grit Just part of the package Screams come from another world Down below Also from all sides Demons wake from their slumber Wearing gas masks and ‘tude Little did the other side know That this was the ultimate battle for freedom […]

As The Streets Fade

After the magic 8, He disappeared to an open field Like all presidents that came before Waiting for his entourage to close the gap No one showed A vehicle reserved for shadow presidents led its fading rear lights into the dark Peripatetic Mr. President was all alone now A girl skipped a pebble his way The sun was setting and releasing pink ink onto the horizon Mr. President used only two fingers to lift the pebble from asphalt He placed it in the center of the sun Watching it disappear into a dying pink portal In a way that was […]

Peripatetic Mr. President

Well for many its true That their legacies are portable Made to be transferred to the abyss But looking past the glow Of a salesmen’s pitch Shows good, pliable cracks Then obscurity comes knocking Washing away hope But constructing a path anyway For words to tumble down Time’s staircase Infinitely they tumble down Casually Resurrecting a lush delta And a finely crafted room With furnishings caused by other images A smile, a word A grey beard standing the test of time Time in all its mischief Couldn’t conquer that  

Swept Neatly Away

Another space odyssey He was floating between gaseous bodies Which continued forever Was this the after place? Or something else? Something more sinister? Well those spheres turned into human faces Just in time to be glimpsed by an all-seeing eye He tried to re-wind them To see those silent films In perfect detail But they refused to rewind themselves To devolve to the beginning stages So he, the universe’s plaything, flew into the heart of a random sphere He landed on an old man’s face Seeing the profound deepness of wrinkles and dead skin cells Breath in, breath out The […]

Something Else

It shimmered Looking emaciated Even for a ghost The field was open and ready to be devoured But the shade wasn’t hungry Not for that Every corner of its body swirled With an incredible appetite So the field kept beckoning Sensing an opportunity The ghost placed an ear to the ground Listening for flesh, something edible Womb sounds answered back Apparently it was late to the occasion A milestone of life It eagerly returned the ear to dirt Hoping for resurrection Alas It was not to be Since the womb only made stirred once An opportunity lost on both sides

A Shimmering Ghost

Donald quickly closed his eyes and titled his head, in an effort to look unconscious. Unfortunately within less than a minute, he was unconscious, surfing the waves of the day’s events. He was fighting off a giant lyme tick on the shores of a tumultuous sea. James Comey walked casually along the beach, kicking up sand and sea shells. “Comey! Hey!…James!” Donald yelled, but Comey kept walking, head down. As he reached the edge of Donald’s dreamscape, a Bannon orc materialized from a shimmering portal, cutting Comey down and vanishing back through the portal in the blink of an eye. Donald […]

A Wasteland President, Part 15

He could say many things about this word, “tender” All of them unabashedly unoriginal But succulence isn’t romance It could never be And with that, sorrow followed He realized that tender meat could never take the place Of a life’s true love So the man In many ways just a statue Dreamed on Grasping for the Elysian fields Where both ribs coated with perfection co-existed with a box of chocolates Tender

So many things…

Trump didn’t know what to do. He was scared, alone, and hungry. And mildly claustrophobic. “I don’t know who to blame,” he whispered. “Mitch, Barack, Michelle. They’re all dirty, as far as I’m concerned.” He slithered through the vents like a snake, wondering where his next meal was going to coming from. But the exercise was erasing his mind. Everything seemed clear now. Bannon wanted the FBI smeared in time for election season. What possible purpose could that serve? “Looks like I underestimated you, Steve. Good job.” Donald was seeing light at the end of the tunnel, even though he […]

A Wasteland President, Part 14

“Apologies, ye grace” “The lad isn’t frying as expected” “What do we do now?” The king rose from his paper throne It stretched to fit the room Snuffing out other lives “Now, we wait,” the king said “The current age has spoken” There was resignation in his voice The jester made a face that felt flat on the floor As the paper throne expanded further, the throne room seemed increasingly inferior “Where do we live now?” “Perhaps among the commoners” The jester wrinkled her nose in distaste “I’d rather die,” her expression read But the king was strong, and could […]

A Paper Throne

“Look, Mitch, we can talk this over. I’m a good guy. I know you’re a good guy.” “Take a seat,” Mitch said. He shifted for a minute, not giving Donald much eye contact. Trump wondered if the former Senator was feeling guilty. “I’m sure you must be very confused right now. You used to be the most powerful man in the country. Now, you’re…you’re…” “A has-been?” Obama ventured. “I believe we can still put him to good use,” Mitch said, giving the Obamas a blank stare. “How were you able to come up with that theory?” Michelle said, and turned […]

A Wasteland President, Part 13

I was supposed to write another chapter in my political satire story A Wasteland President today, but wasn’t feeling up to the monumental task. I think it’s shaping up pretty well, but am having trouble making the overall plot “cohere.” Is that really it, though? I’ve developed this nasty habit of starting an ambitious yarn only to let it unravel at my feet. Typical hubris of the writer? Possibly. But I have so many ideas at any given time that it is truly difficult to focus on just one of them. Hubris would take too much sustained attention. I have to finish this […]

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