Out the Window (a very short story)

Looking out the window, watching the time roll by. I see long tall grass almost moving with the gentle ocean breeze. As the sand grows higher the grass grows short, until the grass is no more and only the tan sand remains.

The grass is replaced only briefly with fences used to block the wind when it rages up hard trying to destroy the beautiful beach. At this time the fence is simply used as markers of where the real beach starts.

People cross this line merrily and start to set up their day’s camp. The few groups that populate this quiet beach hope for the wind to carry the puffy clouds, that block the sun, away. In this moment the sand is damp and the sun can not dry it. Yet, the temperature is perfect for relaxing, along with not thinking of any problems that they may have.

The people on the beach only sit and watch the waves roll in then curl before crashing on the shore, slightly changing the beach with every surge.writing

 

As I hope you can tell this is a scene from my vacation. I wanted to challenge myself a little so I looked out pass the pouch and wrote what I saw. This was also written at the same time as my other beach scene post. 

Please, let me know what you think. Your feedback is greatly appreciated. 

Info On My YouTube Intro

Yesterday in between serving at my church I recorded an introduction video for YouTube. I realize that I will need to record this video again, but it is something at least.

I almost did not do it, then I almost did not get a chance to edit it. I had a million excuses not to, but then a quiet nudge reminded me that if I did not record this video it would be the first week (with the exception of my vacation week) that I would miss a recording since I started that goal. I was tired from waking up early, did not have anything really prepared, then my camera died before I was really finish.

Still I edited it together the best I could and uploaded it to YouTube. I watched it again to make sure that I was comfortable in publishing it and you know what it’s not as bad as I thought. However, I want to know what you think. Is it entertaining or informational? Does it make you want to know more or at least pay a bit of attention to my channel?

Here is the video, let me know what you think.

Scene at the Beach

The ocean breeze gently blew as the waves crashed rhythmically against the shore dragging and pushing sand to its will. Clouds covered the sun keeping the sand cool and damp from the night’s rain storm.

A dog and his boy stand near the water waiting for another crab to hunt, before the boy makes a friend and walks away with the large leashed dog following.

Perhaps down the beach they will find more prey or other new friends. The only thing the boy knew is that the beach was beautiful, long and he could spend the entire day exploring, playing or hunting for crabs.

He would eventually go swimming, but the waves will be larger with more of a risk, turning the simple activity of walking out deep enough into an adventure, then the sun would be lower in the sky and it will be time to end the day at the beach. writing

no sleep

poetry

No, no you can not sleep

not when the sun-shines

not when the heat beats.

No there is no slumber

not when they day is bright

and the sun shines it’s light.

No, no you can not sleep

not until the night falls

and the sun sets.

No there is no sleep

not under the children closes their eyes

and the nights cools your tan.

Two Lanturne poems… Look Up

poetry

Lanturne

The Lanturne is a five-line verse shaped like a Japanese lantern with a syllabic pattern of one, two, three, four, one.

Sun
rises
over the
blue sky so high
sigh.

Touch
the sky
with your dreams
love your future
dream.

Since this was a short and sweet I wrote two.

Let me know what you think. Comments are always welcomed.

As a friendly reminder I am on vacation, so I am not doing my regular DreamWard Bound update post. 

Tears (a monologue)

I’m going to try something new with my youtube channel when I get back from vacation. I will do more original things, like poetry readings, short storytelling, original monologues and maybe even scenes. You will my blog followers will get to read my stuff first and I will be reading the poems that get the most likes per week.

That being said the first original monologue that I will be doing when I get back is title “Tears.” I am hoping to put together an entire script with these different monologues, but I have to start some where, so here you go.

I broke down in tears today. I know you saw. I know you heard. I was praying to you to mend my broken and stressed heart. I was praying for a fix that would happen quick, when you whispered, “the work already has started and I already am doing my part.”

What more can I do? What more do you want, Lord? I cried out in pain, what is my part and where do I fit in? I am lost, angry, and tired of waiting around. Waiting for my real journey to begin. And I know you must have laughed at that because although I didn’t hear you over my crying and doubt I know you said my journey had already begun at the very start.

Look at how far you brought me, while I kicked and screamed. You carried me when I fought you, like a screaming baby all the way. You have great plans for me, or so I hear. They’re plans I do not see, so I scream. Yet, you will never let go of my heart even when I try to push you away.

My soul is a cranky child but you are always patient.I want the sugar and sweets of the world but you have given me the ability to reason instead. I never want to quit playing my own games but you put me to bed so I can rest. I want it all but you show me how. Yes, you show me myself and my life, past, present and future, when my tears come screaming out. So I thank you with dried tears under my eyes.

Radical (Minute Poetry)

poetry

Minute Poetry

The Minute Poem is rhyming verse form consisting of 12 lines of 60 syllables written in strict iambic meter. The poem is formatted into 3 stanzas of 8,4,4,4; 8,4,4,4; 8,4,4,4 syllables. The rhyme scheme is as follows: aabb, ccdd, eeff

Tell me how far one soul can go
How does one grow
with painful hope
in a brain’s lobe?

Are we just monkeys with disease?
can we release
the pain inside?
should we just hide?

No, I say we are much much more.
more than any lore.
More than animal
We are radical.

Okay, one I know the last line has 5 syllables. I actually did that almost on purpose in hopes that would stand out. Also because that is the word that needed to go there. I changed and fought with every other line, but the last line needed to be radical. 

Two, this title is misleading. I thought it would take a minute to write. That is not true. With a second per syllable so it should take a minute to read.

Let me what you think.

Limerick

poetryLimerick

A Limerick is a rhymed humorous or nonsense poem of five lines which originated in Limerick, Ireland. The Limerick has a set rhyme scheme of : a-a-b-b-a with a syllable structure of: 9-9-6-6-9. The rhythm of the poem should go as follows: Lines 1, 2, 5: weak, weak, STRONG, weak, weak, STRONG, weak, weak, STRONG, weak, weak Lines 3, 4: weak, weak, STRONG, weak, weak, STRONG, weak, weak This is the most commonly heard first line of a limerick: “There once was a man from Nantucket.”

I went to the sea to see you see.
Yet, I  could see nothing but the sea.
So I went to the shore
Just so I would be sure
That I could still see beyond the sea.

 

 

Inside the Listening Tree. (Short Story)

There once was a tree that was called the listening tree. It lived in a picturesque forest with blue and purple flowers growing at its base. People would climb this tree in the beautiful forest. They would sit on the many limbs of the tree and told the tree all their problems. For years and years the tree grew and people climbed the tree to talk with it. They left all their issues with the tree and some way or another the issues and problems left with the tree would get solved.

As more and more people talked to the tree and more and more problems were solved, more people heard and came. Soon people were traveling from far away to talk to this tree. By the time this time the tree was the largest tree most has ever seen. It appeared to the people who lived closest to the tree that the more people came to the tree the larger it became.

Every day for years and years every limb was covered with people chattering about their woes. Then one day only one came. It was a little girl with tears in her eyes. She could not even reach the first branch to climb up on the tree, so she sat down by the flowers and told the tree, “I know I’m not special and I know that everyone else’s issues are more important. I’m just a little girl, but I’m all alone and no one even notices me. I would like some one to at least greet me.”

As she finished her request a little door opened and out walked a tiny old woman with wings who flew up to be near the little girl’s face.

Astonished the little girl asked, “Who are you?”

“I am the mother of this tree, every limb has one of my children listening to your people. No one has even talked to me in many years, so I know how you feel.”

The little girl smiled. “Thank you for letting me see you and thank you for noticing me.”

“My dear girl, being noticed is not your issue. What breaks your heart is that you are alone. I can see it in your eyes. Come live with us and you will never be alone.”

“I can not live in a tree or in the forest.”

The mother laughed and told her, “We are magical. I will shrink you down and give you wings. That is when you can choose to either be a listener with me or a giver with my husband.”

“What is a giver?”

Smiling the mother told the child, “A giver is one who gives the people what they need to mend their hearts or fix their problems.” She saw the confusion in the girl’s eyes and told her, with a sweet voice, “We do not fix other’s problems for them, we only open their eyes and give them the tools.”

“Are the givers ever alone?”

“When they are out helping others they may be.”

“I think I would like to stay with you then and be a listener.”

“As you wish,” The mother said and with a kiss on the girl’s head the girl was turned into a tiny winged version of herself.

 

This was a quick short story that I wrote at my day job when the internet was down. 

And just as a reminder I will be on vacation starting Thursday.

writing

Sated Song: Storybook

This week’s Stated Song is Storybook which is from the musical Scarlet Pimpernel. When I was younger I was in voice lessons to learn how to sing and this was a song I remember very fondly  doing. I really like the dreamer’s voice and attitude. Some days I feel this same way. Some days I feel like I am just a dreamer with no real love. However, I am lucky, because I do have real love. I have a wonderful family and friends who love me. Yet, since I don’t have a ‘lover’ I do feel like I am missing what is real love, which is what this song is about.

You can listen to the actual song on youtube. It is sung by Rachel York. The musical, The Scarlet Pimpernel  is a 1997 Broadway musical composed by Frank Wildhorn and written by Nan Knighton, the production starred Douglas Sills as Sir Percy Blakeney, Christine Andreas as Marguerite Blakeney, and Terrence Mann as Citizen Chauvelin. ( I simply copied and pasted all this information from The Scarlet Pimpernel’s Wikiepedia page.)

 

The lyrics that I used for this Stated song are:

Listen to me, I have beautiful dreams I can spin you
Dreams to linger within you
Close your eyes and we’ll ride my carousel
I’ll tell you stories of lovers whose love used to fill me
And the lovers who will be
For, you see, love is one thing I do well
Come, let’s believe love can be just as sweet as it seems
Let’s live on dreams!

In my dreams such beautiful lovers have found me
Storybook lovers surround me
Nothing is real, but I’m flying, sighing
Where is my storybook ending?
Why does my golden pretending
Leave me with nothing to hold but my dreams?

Oh, is it only in dreams that we find our ideal love?
Are there lovers with real love?
If you know how to feel love, show me now
but my prince, if you can’t be as sweet as you seem
I’d rather dream

Come and wake me!
Come be the love I can hold now
Storybook love leaves me cold now
Show me the way to stop dreaming
There is only one perfect storybook ending
That is the end of pretending
That is the moment I say, love me now!