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| >> Book >> Experience >> ID #1509062 |
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![]() This is a corner of my computer table. In this journal, you will find poetry and thoughtful or mindless ramblings from my daily existence. If you read, I hope you'll leave a comment. In the picture of my table is my doll named Rosie, circa approx.1954, named for my grandmother Rose, a picture of my husband from our honeymoon in Florida in 1999, a plaque with the scripture "We know that all things work together for good to them that love God..to them who are called according to His purpose. Romans 8:28;" a pink vase I got from my mother, and a few other items including the letter "K" for my name, and a book of poetry. |
| 543. Thursday mumblings | ID #741836 |
| Posted: 12-15-2011 @ 11:08 am EST | |
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Okay, so I don't know who Joan Jett is? Does that make me a loser? Maybe in Ohio it does. |
| 542. Day 41 - The Majesty of Blankness | ID #741760 |
| Posted: 12-14-2011 @ 9:37 am EST | |
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| 541. corrected motto | ID #741708 |
| Posted: 12-13-2011 @ 6:35 pm EST | |
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Didn't get my quote quite right. Here it is in its original version: |
| 540. Add some spice - you don't have to eat the stems | ID #741691 |
| Posted: 12-13-2011 @ 10:56 am EST | |
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Foggy but warm day here in Texas. Thanking Jesus for eggs, broccoli, cauliflower, and skim milk since that's what I'm having for breakfast. Eggs from our chickens, vegetables from our garden. Milk from HEB. Bessie Mae, our Holstein, isn't giving milk yet. She will when she has her calf (calves). After they (or he or she) are born, someone could say to them, "Yo momma was soooo fat.._____" Fill in the blank. She's huge right now in the belly! |
| 539. Sitting here on a rainy day in Texas | ID #741639 |
| Posted: 12-12-2011 @ 11:59 am EST | |
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I'm in my office, at my computer, eating no sugar-no flour-no margarine peanut butter cookies for post-breakfast time. They are actually pretty good, made with equal parts Splenda and Chunky Peanut Butter (1 cup each) and 1 egg. Mix and bake at 350 for about 10-11 minutes. I got tired of my normal breakfast, so I decided to make cookies. It sounds better, "I had cookies for breakfast." Yeah, I can get into that. |
| 538. Day 40 - Thinking Thinly Vailed Thoughts | ID #741389 |
| Posted: 12-9-2011 @ 10:01 am EST | |
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| 537. mumblings | ID #741340 |
| Posted: 12-8-2011 @ 4:16 pm EST | |
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Nothing profound, just mumblings. |
| 536. Day 39 - The Journey - The Journal | ID #741197 |
| Posted: 12-6-2011 @ 2:00 pm EST | |
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Dan Sturn's Poem "Jour" is first: "Jour" Journaling can help you "listen" to your muse. Oh muse, where did you go, like a friend out into the cold? It's warmer now, no snow! And we won't have to be so bold. Plus I have this pretty blank paper, the pages are already numbered, and we don't even have to write of a caper, that our simple life has encumbered. We can just start with the mundane, away from trying to be good, and avoid the artistic pain, of when and how and should— --------------- The jour of journal coincides with the jour of journey— like the seem in dream, logging the events of a future trip across a sea called "me." A wide sea, infinite with islands of white sandy beaches, revealing dancing girls that wear nothing but grass, smiling as they welcome me to their paradise . . . . and I log it— and next to the "land ho" I shout, leads me to another white sandy beach, where smiles reveal bright white teeth that cut through skin as I scream in terror, writhing in pain, writing in pain, trying desperately to climb back into my boat, and looking back at the shore— I log it. Copyright © 2008 by Dan Sturn The Journey – The Journal Oh my, what a ride – but where is the snow? I just slid into town, but why I sure don't know. No one here to meet me, nothing looks the same. I don't even remember my former neighbor's name. I thought I'd settle here with a paper and a pen and let childhood surroundings sort of fill things in. But nothing looks familiar; it's all really changed. Or maybe it's my memory that's been rearranged. If only I had kept a journal... ------------------ A journey or a journal has to start somewhere and in the planning, you will start to care. A notebook and a pencil, a computer's keys – whatever helps you write with the most ease. Logging of daily musings, the scenes along the way will settle in your mind and begin to play a tune of "muse's" choosing to put into rhyme. You may never know the where or pick the time. A day or maybe three will pass with no insight And then there it will be in the middle of the night. You'll reach for the pen as you become aware, and before you know it, the sun will find you there. A phrase, a thought, a rambling – an unknown word even your simple renderings of the call of a bird. Something in the mind that has nothing to wear may in time become the feathers of an auk clair. You may travel no where except within your mind, but as you journal daily, I think that you will find the simple things you write will begin to glow and give off a light to guide you in the flow. As Dan would say, "Log it." I add, "Let your mind jog it when it needs it most." Copyright © December 30, 2008 by Karen M. Crump ...but it would not be except for Dan Sturn's poem "Jour"
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| 535. Day 38 - Poet's Dread | ID #741112 |
| Posted: 12-5-2011 @ 10:31 am EST | |
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| 534. Day 37 - The River is My Drug and My Destination | ID #740842 |
| Posted: 12-1-2011 @ 8:38 am EST | |
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The River is My Drug and My Destination Where the river is, I want to be I crave, like an addiction, the dark river's flow. Standing alone on the beach, it seems long ago the water was my cradle where my mind could sleep. It was the strength holding me when I got in too deep. The guilt, like waves around me, washes across my soul. I don't recall how my heart became so cold. Words like icy needles, I pierced my lover's heart I would apologize, but I don't know where to start. I know on the river, I need to be alone, separate from the world in a "no entry" zone. Caressed by rushing water as I take my ride, any other lovers I have to cast aside. The presence of the river and the boats assail, capture my heart as I attempt to no avail to satisfy my life here on this earthly shore. I gaze at the river and know out there's more. Copyright © December 30, 2008 by Karen M. Crump Inspired by:
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