Writer's Notebook

Naked Sunfish Read Aloud

2010-05-24T09:53:00.003-04:00

For everyone who missed the Read Aloud, there is a podcast! You can hear me reading from my works and enjoy the beautiful music created my Richard and Yvonne Brown.

Follow this link, and search the page, halfway down for the Naked Sunfish podcast.

Enjoy. The entire presentation was about an hour, for those of you planning your listening.

Naked Sunfish - New Issue out today

2010-03-31T20:38:00.001-04:00

Issue # 59 of Naked Sunfish is on virtual newsstands EVERYWHERE!!

This may be our biggest issue yet with the poetry of Dennis Toth, Ted Kane, Rick Brown, & Dr. John Bennett!!

Artwork by C. Merhl Bennett, Morris Jackson and Jessy Kendall!!

Fiction by Elisa Phillips and Shawn Gaines!! Non fiction by Rick Brown!! Comics by Sue Lense and Ray Tomczak!!

Political commentary by professor emeritus and theologian Dr. Carl Skrade!!! Go to Cupcake Camp with Emily Glenn and Jim Eaton!! The Fat Mule restaurant review!!

Travel!! Theater reviews by Rick Brown!! The Naked Sunfish Interview with rock icon Country Joe McDonald!! Music!! You'll laugh!! You'll cry!! Check it out!! Bookmark it...it's HUGE!!!!!!

Bees

2010-03-10T11:46:00.002-05:00

I wrote this based on the CCC challenge words, made some edits, and am posting it here. This is the first time I composed a poem electronically and not on paper. Normally I write my poems out long hand. This one was composed in Evernote. It worked. I am not sure it will always work.

Bees

Sitting back on my sit-bones,
like a balanced butternut squash,
the seeds at my center, waiting,
anxious for childbearing, for the
promise of the coming blossoms.

A honeybee travels slowly,
zigzagging, not noticing
the gentle breeze, delicately visiting
blossom after blossom, knowing
the best welcome is without a hammer.

Invincible is the wind, on which he flies.

Creamy velvet sugar, the perfect top hat
on the rich cupcake. Ants marching, across
the counter, fanatic and hungry for gooey
sweetness. Sticky fingers of a child
swoop down, like a crane and steal
the prize, leaving a trail for them to follow.

Pine Boxes

2010-03-09T21:41:00.001-05:00

Pine Boxes.

“Don’t need nothin’ more than a plain ole pine box to meet your maker. We all be naked at them gates, Janey Girl.”

Papaw built pine boxes. For Christmas one year he made me a small pine box for under my pillow. For my worries.

The next year a bigger one for my night table. The older a person gets means the bigger the worries. I decided I didn’t wants to get too old, ‘cause the pine boxes Papaw made for old Mr. Fellows were always man sized. ‘Magine all the worries you could fit in there.

“He be coming Janey—you best be getting on now.”

Mrs. Hubbard always said, “He be coming.” Only I don’t know who he is. Her hair was white like Christmas snow. She always wore her black button-up sweater backwards. Everybody said she was crazy. My mama told me once never to point and whisper.

“Be bad manners Janey-girl.”

I wondered if “bad manners” and “He” had any connection.

“Janey-girl – He be coming for sure--this time. Feels it in my bones.” Mrs. Hubbard wheezed as she swept the snow off the walk.

I nodded.

I still didn’t know who “He” was and settled for myself it’d be bad manners to ask.

The next morning I rode into town with Papaw, a pine box, fresh and pale, in the bed of his old Ford. We pulled up in front of Mrs. Hubbad’s. Boot prints matting down the snow on her walk.

“He came for her Janey-girl. Her maker came for her last night.”

I look at the pine box. I guess once “He” arrives you’s gots no more worries to carry about.

I stayed in the truck.

Glad my worries still fit in the small pine box, clutched tightly in my hands.

Something Fun

2010-03-09T21:32:00.002-05:00

Through Twitter I learned about this lovely and addictive (seriously) blog. If you are serious about writing or really just want to improve upon your game, I suggest you check this out. It is also really fun, if you are a geeky writer type!

Thus far I have written a poem and a story. The story is posted on the site and I am making it my Spring contribution to the Naked Sunfish. Tomorrow I am going to write another story.

Anyway - swing over there and check out all the great stories and the writers who are challenging themselves.

NakedSunfish

2010-02-07T06:49:00.002-05:00

The most recent edition of the NakedSunfish is available. This month I have a poem for your enjoyment. The entire issue is full of fun, fun goodness and the format has been streamlined for your ease and pleasure.

Want to see what else I have contributed over the 18 months? Cruise over to the archives and I have been contributing since Spring 2008.

This story is one of my favorites. I am also particularly happy with this one and this one.

Better off Dead

2009-12-21T21:00:00.000-05:00

Better off Dead

“And then, of course, it jams.”

“Well, you know, for this very reason I like to know what I am getting into.”

“I know, but man, do I love how she stretches every morning, lithe, like a sleek cat. I told her from the beginning I was going to someday disappoint her.”

“I guess she doesn’t believe in that ‘forgive and forget’, she went straight for wanting you dead.”

“Surprisingly she is amazingly low maintenance, in a classic sense anyway.”

“I have heard and seen some amazing shit, man, but this I’ve gotta to tell you, this freaks me out.”

“You should have seen her. She was so hot. Standing there. Still as a statue. My breathe caught. I knew in that moment she was the girl I was going to marry.”

“She wanted you dead.”

“If she wanted me dead, she would have tested the gun, before she tried to fire it at me, across a crowded bar.”

“Tested it how? Shoot it into a pillow or the garbage can in the subway on the way to the bar.”

“She was dressed in a rocking mini skirt, purple fishnets and her black latex mini trench coat. Legs up to here, in her knee high black laxtex boots.”

“So since she was dress like the star of sci-fi porno, you think that means she would have tested out the gun, before she showed up, dressed to the nines to kill you?”

“Yeah, not only is she the sharpest dressed woman I know, she is the smartest too.”

“I know I’ve said this before, but you really need to rethink this. You bailed her out, that is enough. No need to buy her a ring.”

“All ready done.”

“I hope to God this never happens to me.”

Holiday Issue of Naked Sunfish

2009-12-09T09:41:00.002-05:00

Yeah! It is a great issue to wind down the year. Many great stories and wonderful artwork also!

Surf over to check out my essay on Parents who drive badly and many other great features.

Snow Showers, possible tonight

2009-11-22T12:08:00.002-05:00

Snow Showers, possible tonight

“Taxi,” yells the man in the gray coat buttoned up against the chill.
“Allow me, Ma’am.” Taking my bags.
Together we stand as steel steeds speed past.
“Snow showers possible tonight.”
Together we stand as steel steeds speed past.
“Allow me, Ma’am.” Taking my bags.
“Taxi,” yells the man in the gray coat buttoned up against the chill.

Wednesday

2009-11-22T11:48:00.003-05:00

Wednesday

It was a day like any other—only it was a Wednesday,

the fall grass green

and the sky radiant blue.

This is the day she appeared,

not arrived,

or came,

or showed up,

because it was rather like magic.

One minute I am speaking to a friend,

on my cell phone,

the next chasing

slow moving grumpy children

from the middle of the street,

then settled on the stoop,

basking in the lunch time sun,

when, poof, there she is.

Quiet.

Curious.

Sleek & Lean.

Hungry.

Hungry for us.

Hungry.

We fed her and she strayed.

Hungry she returned and stayed.

Floating

2009-11-22T11:40:00.001-05:00

Floating

Cotton candy clouds float like melting marshmallows across the sky.
I settled into the hammock, with a book and music playing in my ears, ready to while the afternoon away.
The phone rang yesterday at 3 am.
I settled into the hammock, with a book and music playing in my ears, ready to while the afternoon away.
Cotton candy clouds float like melting marshmallows across the sky.

Closed today

2009-11-22T11:36:00.002-05:00

Closed Today

“I like to watch people,” he confides to me. “It excites me.”

I turn and stare, blankly.

“They move about like ants, like sheep, seeking or lost, it’s hard to say.”

My brow wrinkles like cast off tissue paper, puzzled or amused, it’s hard to say.

The hand lettered sign said: “Closed today.”

My brow wrinkles like cast off tissue paper, puzzled or amused, it’s hard to say.

“They move about like ants, like sheep, seeking or lost, it’s hard to say.”

I turn and stare, blankly.

“I like to watch people,” he confides to me. “It excites me.”

Cage

2009-11-21T10:40:00.002-05:00

Cage

In a box – torn from my little nest
I embark upon a lifelong quest
Part trail, part pleasure
All to entertain, some gilded folks in their leisure

From cardboard box to palatial gilded cage
A bit apart, I am encouraged to engage
The world around, from my secured perch
Out slates – my obstructed view, the truth of the landscape I research

“Sing pretty bird, Sing pretty bird!”
Endless this is all I heard
And I sang my beautiful song
For that given from the heart, how can it be wrong?

House of gold bars upon the table
Peers & pokes & questions from those who are able
Curiosities & niceties, from all who visit
Nothing to do but sing and sit

Until one day the young master with big ideas arrives
And wonders how at how a creature of flight survives
When with a flourish, the door opens wide
My sanctuary quickly invaded, by a hand reaching inside

“Fly pretty bird, Fly pretty bird!”
Endless this is all I heard
And around the room on outstretched wings
I fly free – as my heart truly sings

Now near to his desk, I while away my days
Little door open, free to perch & fly in the light through glass rays
At nights, closed up tight, safe & secure
By days I sing & fly, content in radiance pure

Basking in his indifference & attentions
I preen, strut & sore, with great intentions
Luxuriating in such wondrous freedoms
At peace in his controlled fiefdom

“Frolic little bird, Frolic little bird”
Endless this is all I heard
And I heartily embraced his words & deeds
My instincts, oh lamentable, I failed to heed

One pleasant summer day
Sweet freedom, ripped from me away
When the fat sleek Persian came
Rendering my wings once again lame

Now I am confined to my perch & cage
Doors locked tight, to keep me safe, left to bask in my rage
For before I tasted freedom’s flight
Truly I was blinded to my plight

“Sing pretty bird, Sing pretty bird!”
Endless this is all I heard
Summer long – until I found my voice
For there was no other choice…

Appear in the Naked Sunfish (May 2009) www.nakedsunfish.com