Countdown Over

Today marks the first day of unemployment that I can’t claim as a weekend or holiday.  I’m pleased to say I worked today.  I’ll post a helpful progress report on my business plan research tomorrow.  Meanwhile, this came to me today and, since as a writer I’m sworn to honesty as one helpful author/mentor wrote, I’ll share it with all you hopeful writers who read me.

Fear of Nothing

The clock on the wall keeps time
as step-ball-change tugs me loose,
and with clickity speed
I must speedily read,
and wealth of good writing produce –
lest my taskmaster soul bells chime.

No orientation exists –
just on the job training and fear.
The list of whatevers
and jaunty endeavors
make lists upon deadlines appear –
and procrastination persists.

Oh this …

fear of failing,
critics wailing.
What if it sucks,
and my rows of ducks
go waddling through
mediocre blue
and black guffaws,
full of flaws,
to find at the end
a wordful blend

of nothing
that makes a difference?

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Migraine

down for the count
up for the bill
water, more water
swallow a pill

head full of broken
shut your damn lips
type in my logon
man this pain rips

check my to do list
throttle a yell
keep the damn light off
Lord, i'm in hell

responsibility
headache is killing me
punch out this deadline
now make a b-line

sunlight and dizziness
throbbing and sleepless
poetry rounding
forehead pounding

oh for a temperate dark quiet room
to wrap me in stasis, a comforting tomb.



Time Travel on a Day with Deadlines

“Time travel on a day with deadlines,”
That’s what I think over coffee, under fog
of sleep crusted eyes and rickety bones.

It’s only six, but I’m at my eight,
then my eleven.  I wonder.
“Does the car need to sweat off some frost?”

AdrenalineNOW

Español: Fuente tipográfica "Apocalypse N...One day I came home from work and wanted to veg.  I wanted to eat junk food and watch whatever was on the stupid box.  I needed escape … relief from the madness of the deadline riddled world of work.  But I couldn’t find the remote.  I know what you’re thinking, but it’s not like that.  The cabin where I’m staying has satellite cable, so if you don’t have the remote, you can’t watch.  I gave up after about ten minutes of looking for it.  Ten minutes of my life, wasted.

The junk food in the house wasn’t what I wanted so I traipsed off to the grocery store and bought a milky way candy bar and a diet coke.  It’s not enough anymore to just buy the regular candy bar, you have to buy the king size.  That way you can eat one of the halves and twist it shut for freshness, saving the other half for another time.  Only that never happens.

When I finished my “dinner” and had messed around on my mac, I brought my kindle e-reader and mac into my room to try and lay down and get tired.  That’s when I discovered that the remote was on the twin bed opposite mine where I keep my suitcase and stack of books.  Silly me.  So instead of going to sleep at a decent hour, I turned on Apocolypse Now (the only thing on that wasn’t telling me about my belly fat, selling me jewelry, or spewing right or left wing propaganda).

Marlon Brando was performing his intense monologue with the Francis Ford Coppola shadow lighting that emphasized everything he said about making horror your friend.  He was describing his memory of little inoculated arms that rebel forces had hacked off children and put in a pile.  I remembered how riveted I had been the first time I had watched this movie.  I was hypnotized and even pondered once more the words that Col. Kurtz was saying.  I awoke two hours later and went to bed.

I didn’t dream.  In fact, I slept more soundly than I have in a long time.  I awoke refreshed and thought to myself, “Today I will make stress my friend.”

So here now is my rendition of the afore mentioned monologue from Apocalypse Now.

I’ve seen stress, stress that you’ve seen.  But you have no right to call me a manic hormonal bitch.  You have a right to fear me, you have a right to do that, but you have no right to judge me.  It’s impossible for words to describe what is necessary to those who do not know what stress is.
… Stress.  Stress has a face … And you must make a friend of stress. Stress and burnout are your friends.  If they are not then they are enemies to be feared.  They are truly enemies.  I remember when I was in the Hotel/Resort business … seems a thousand centuries ago … we had discounted our rates to undercut our competitors and sell out.  We were overbooked and actually sent five people to the hotel next door after they arrived and all our rooms were sold.  After we sold out, the manager on duty that night came running to the front desk and he was sweating.  He couldn’t breath.  We checked online with our competitors and they had also sold out.  They had posted a sign on their marquee stating “No invisible rooms here.”  No invisible rooms.  And I remember… I … I … I cried … wept like some grandmother.  I wanted to tear my hair out.  I didn’t know what I wanted to do.  And I want to remember it.  I never want to forget it.  I never want to forget.  And then I realized … like I was shot … Like I was shot with a diamond … a diamond bullet right through my forehead.  And I thought: My God … the genius of that.  The genius.  The will to do that.  Perfect, genuine, complete, crystalline, pure.  And then I realized they was stronger than we.  Because they could back that, these were not monsters … these were salespeople … educated hospitality people … who fought with their hearts … who had families, who had children, who were filled with love … but they had the strength … the strength to do that.  If I had ten divisions of those people my troubles in everyday deadlines and strategic planning would be over very quickly.  You have to have people who are moral … and at the same time are able to utilize their primordial instincts to drive a point home without feeling … without passion … without judgement … without judgement.  Because it’s judgement that defeats us.