Poetic Referendum(s) On Life

New poems

I confess, I'm not a blogger. Eventually, I will learn how to thank those who support me in my reinvigorated writing endeavor (psst, I'm not using spell check). But I have many people to thank for all sorts of input on two new poems I posted over the last few days.

"Invalid Item" 

"The Evergreen" 

The feedback for Evergreen makes me believe this is my best work since Garden Waste which is an oldie but a goodie at 18 days old.

"Hidden Flower" 

That poem caught the attention of someone because an unexpected gift to upgrade my membership landed at my doorstep. Thank you, whoever you are!

It has been a rollercoaster ride since losing my job about three weeks ago. I held on as long as I could, knowing my days were numbered. In the process my bond with God strengthened.

Just two days after writing a poem and praying God share with me my purpose in life, I was thrown out onto the street. I didn't have to brush myself off. I was lifted up and lead right back to where I left off 15 years ago. Writing.

Now this ride has had some hills and valleys, twists and turns, and the occasional nausea these past few weeks. There's the matter of finances, how to manage my spare time and troubling over whether I should seek other employment. Fortunately, I'm blessed with a loving wife and two adorable and intelligent children.

So, I'm trying to reintegrate myself to daily chores of the  stay-at-home Dad, which I was pretty much anyway. My wife works full-time. I get to cook more, spend more time with my garden, read and play with Alex and Maddie all day long, and slow down life and really contemplate the important things.

Now that I have stopped to smell the roses, I write about them.

I'll conclude here, sparing any possible metaphors I will start sewing into the fabric of some elaborate tale (or just another rag off the K-mart clearance rack).

And one special shout out to (the late) -----------. You've kept me on my feet and remind me that there's no place for doubting myself, especially now. I have the means and the opportunity. Time to do something with the 20 plus years of writing and life experiences collecting cobwebs in masked tape boxes in the rafters of my garage.

Taking a drag on my virtual cigarette, "Good night, and good luck."