Rocking foundations of truth
Rocking foundations of truth
According to Frederick Lenz,
Said that there are places
Of great energy
On our planet.
It is there where
Innovation becomes reality, and
Motivation becomes effortless.
I’m not there right now.
The words are not flowing,
The ideas are not coming,
Only the desire to exercise is booming.
I love this place
For it is not the geography making me stale,
It is this place where the energy is building,
The frustration is percolating, and soon,
The flow will come.
I’ll be ready when it does.
I hope they find the bearded one.
This Radio Paradise song is cool weird.
My fingers are cold.
The dog gnawing on that antler is loud.
Concentrate on the poem.
It sure is quiet upstairs.
Are they watching Survivor?
Kobe retires tonight.
Yes, I made up a word, mentalcize. If it’s already out there, I apologize. The last few days have brought an onslaught of thought about what it means to “live.” If you get a chance check out Chase Jarvis and his series “30 Days of Genius.”
As you can see from the map I did earlier, these talks have gotten into my head. That’s the idea, right? Besides the incredible perspectives his guests share and the way we get to see how Chase is making sense of his life, the black and white is mesmerizing. Maybe that sounds simple, but the b&w adds to the depth and focus of each interview.
If you check it out, drop me a comment, I’d be curious as to what you think. Even better would be dropping Chase a comment…
Frenetic writing this morning,
My pen was bouncing around like crazy.
I don’t know why,
Maybe it was coffee,
Maybe the Muse that screwed with my sleep
Was driving me to my journal, or
Maybe it was dumb luck.
The day is full,
Family, furniture, football, but
Later it’s back to the writing.
Hopefully, the energy will still be there.
Surely, this wave is not fleeting
And I know the distractions of the day
Will only add to the creative potential.
That’s the way.
From where does inspiration,
That power raging and unseen,
From where do the ideas manifest,
Allowing energy to come
Perhaps there is a muse
Guiding and whispering thoughts
Perhaps it is the grind,
Cast in a discipline turning
The process is so unclear,
Yet I wait for it to
Sending my pen
On its next journey with either a
Fairy or plough.
Taking photos in the rain
With an excited dog on a leash
Lends little to stability
The process relying on a shake up
That defies the representative nature
Photographers often strive for
Finding something in a mistake
That might give pleasure to the eye
Leaves wasted time for the pessimists
For being able to see
An opportunity in an “oops”
Makes for a better vision
To tap into the darkness
That skirts just below
What the world finds acceptable
Requires a certain amount of disregard
For all those
Sanitized ways of living
In the dullness
Illuminated by the light of conformity
Choosing words with less expression
Takes the drama
Out of a language so rich with passion
Leaving dull inflections
To color our days
What a waste
To stockpile the wealth of words
In a solitary lock up
Guarded by appropriateness
Art, created to represent
A peculiar vision,
May not be for me
Hard to view
But just as appropriate
As Beaver or Rockwell
Only more challenging of
Comedy, designed to create
Thought and laughter,
Might sound right on
Or may cross my lines of taste,
But I’ll take Pryor over Leno
Or Seinfeld over some other
No point f-bomb dropping hack
Because it’s the substance
Making the humor funny
The artist, playing without risk,
Whatever the form
Making something with edge
Allowing us to grow
The process unlimited
Just so long as no one gets hurt