I Blog Poetry and Prose

When I was a child, living in Blackwell, Oklahoma, I enjoyed Halloween. I enjoyed dressing up and trick or treating. Grandma enjoyed it, as well. Grandma always made cookies for the neighbor kids that came trick or treating. Since all of the neighbors knew her, they had no problems with the treats she gave out. In fact, all children in the neighborhood call her Grandma. It was a badge of honor, and she knew all the children's names, even when they wore masks Grandma recognized them and called them by name.

You might not believe in ghost stories, but they are out there. Ghost stories make their appearance most often at Halloween parties to frighten the party goers. Ghost stories are fun to listen to, to tell, and to write; as long as one doesn't get too big of a fright. The imagination can be a friend or a foe, it can frighten you or make you think.

In the midnight hours when the body is asleep the soul is free to roam. To traverse the realms of space and time. To looked to the future or across the planet. To explore the world of other stars and galaxies. To look into the gravity well of faith and see spiritual reality. And, when the sleepless body lays staring into the darkness, to intone a prayer of gratitude for the opportunity to commune with the Almighty Creator.

As I looked at the Jack-o-Lantern, it seemed to be looking back at me. Then it rose from the wooden porch, like a UFO lifting off, and floated into the front yard. It landed in the center of the purple-pink azalea shrub, I had planted near the Pinus banksiana or Jack pine. There the Jack-o-Lantern begin to expand and grow until it covered that entire section of the yard. As the Jack-o-Lantern grew, I noticed that the pine tree seemed to move back, in order to give the Jack-o-Lantern room to grow.

A work in progress explains my entire life. Moving forward through a fog to an unseen destination on a mountain top. Attempting to draw a map, while traveling down a road that no one else is going to travel, so their isn't any need for the map. That's really all life is for the individual human being. We are born, we learn or don't lear spiritual values from our families. After we attain the age of maturity, we realize that we are still a work in progress. A work in progress that won't be finished until the day we die.

I've contemplated this prompt almost all night, and I've came to the conclusion that no monster, created by the mind or muse of an author, is a frightening as the real monsters stalking the world today. This doesn't mean that the monsters in books or on screen aren't scary, it just means that we know we are safe from them once we leave the theater or put down the book.

Talk shows aren't my cup of coffee. When Mom was alive, we would watch them together. I found them enjoyable, and, somewhat, educational the first few times. After about the the first week or so, the shows became repetitive and showy, while featuring the same issues with different guests. They covered the surface of whatever issue the guests had, and didn't get deeply enough into the education part to help audience members suffering or dealing with the those issues in their personal life.

I don't have a favorite political candidate, when I vote--which I do in midterm and presidential elections--I attempt to find the lesser of the two evil and vote for that candidate. When I hear them talk they, glaze over the issues that I find important and, throw verbal stones at their opponents. They accuse their opponents of taking bribes money from special interest or walking their party's line, when they, themselves, are guilty of the same sin. They claim to work for unity, but the only time they do is when the issue is of minor importance in their party's agenda.

I'm not a sports fan. The only sports I watch on television, or follow online, are the Olympics. Even with those, there are certain sport I follow closer than others. During the Winter Olympics, I like the to watch the ice dancing and single skating competitions. Sometime will watch the luge, and the skiing competitions. During the Summer Olympics I prefer to watch the swimming events. Sometimes I'll watch the rowing events, but this depends on which country is in the lead. I'll watch the running competitions if I've heard of one of the competitors.

At 71 years and 10 months, I've went through a lot of new normal experiences. The death of a loved one or close friend always begins a new normal. You go through the stages of grief, without ever getting over the grief and missing the person. Sometimes the loved one returns in a dream to comfort, and show that in the spiritual world they are still thinking of you. Sometimes a scent simultaneously generates a tear and a smile, this is just another way the loved one is attempting to send comfort from the spiritual world. Eventually, one gets beyond the stages of grief and the new normal is established.

I have never, knock on wood (as my grandmother used to say), broken a bone. I have, however, sprained both ankles. This occurred when I stepped out of a pickup truck into a ditch. This, of course, was my own fault because I wasn't looking where I was disembarking the truck. My right ankle was worse than my left, because I stepped out of the passenger side and my right foot was the first to hit the ground. I learned to look where i was stepping instead of at the person--in the driver's seat--I was talking to.

I have no objection to celebrities friends, families, or fans celebrating their birthday. I don't think any celebrities birthday should be celebrated by the general public. I don't follow celebrities or make a practice of reading celebrity news. I believe celebrities have a right to a personal life, and birthdays are a personal matter. Some celebrities enjoy big parties, with a lot of publicity. Some of them, I suspect, would prefer a small gathering of close personal friends and associates. I went through the "crazy over celebrities" phase as a preteen and teenager. I out grew that somewhere between my eighteenth and twentieth birthdays.

I disagree because there are degrees of perfection in the universe. I look at a rose, I think it is a perfect specimen of a rose. A week or so later, I see another rose, with a different color, and seen in it as a perfect rose. In both cases, I am right because the second rose has a higher degree of perfection than the first rose.

I have no idea why Mr. Sartre turned down the Nobel Prize for Literature; I suspect it may have had something to do with his political beliefs. Other, logical, reason could be he didn't want the prize, or he was, somewhat, modest when it came to his own writing and felt that the prize suggested he had reach the pinnacle of his literary career. He didn't give a reason, which is his business. Each writer has their own reasons for accepting or rejecting an important literary prize.

I don't want to be Emperor of the world or even King/Queen of the Hill, because I'm sure there would be someone else out there trying to push me off the throne or the hill. However, if I was made Emperor--in a duly confirmed election--I would graciously accept the job. I would implement a few necessary changes; after appointing cabinet members from the indigenous peoples across the planet.

I am looking forward to November, because the Twin Holy Days will be celebrated in on November 9 and 10. These are my favorites because they celebrate the Birth of the Bab and the Birth of Baha'u'llah. Since 2015, these two Holy Days are celebrated on "the first and the second day following the occurrence of the eighth new moon after Naw-Rúz".4 This means that these celebrations fall on different day each year.

This prompt is getting me out of my comfort zone, which is a good thing. I normally don't think about, or even list, the things about myself that I like. I think it has to do with leftover dogma from my childhood. I was taught, or picked up from the way other people talked and acted, that I wasn't supposed to consider the good things about myself. This may be part of my low self-esteem issues, which I still confront.