Bulletin board 


Okay…my first post of this type! If you want to share a link to either your latest or greatest post, please leave a link in the comments. If you want to leave a blurb about the post, please do.

My most liked post was about the first hug my son gave me: https://erichmichaels.wordpress.com/2015/04/22/a-hug/

Let’s show some love for our fellow explorers of the human condition!

Ephemera

The imprints of little feet in sand

Around a bucket built sandcastle
Snow-covered trees, snowflakes on your face

You stand and look at your first snow angel 
Walking out into the field at dusk and

Experiencing firefly magic the first time
Giddy anxiousness keeping you awake

Wondering what Santa was bringing you
The perfect rock, the perfect throw

It skips across the water…finally
Knowing with the utmost certainty 

That you were meant to be a firefighter 
That tv show you watched with grandma

As a child, her laughter was the best sound
The cool night breeze off of the bay and

The best fireworks you’d ever seen
Sneaking around the grownups stealthily

Slurping the foam off their drinks until dizzy
A sunburn, the pain, the sleepless nights

The skin sloughing off in strips
Jr. High warm-belly-feeling from friends

Relaying info that your crush likes you too
That first self-induced, full-body-orgasm

Lightening in your veins…did I break it?
Bagged groceries all week with your best smile

The owner hands you your first check
Approaching high school graduation 

The feeling that the world was yours
Your hands grip the steering wheel 

You drive off the lot in your brand new car
You walk up to the counter, fingers touch glass

You ask where the engagement rings are
Filling out paperwork at HR

Five percent you put into a 401K…for the future
You keep the indicator covered by your hand

So you both can see if it’s positive together 
The Rent-A-Center salesperson 

Greets you with a smile and calls you Sir/Ma’am
Sitting across the desk, little arrow stickers

You initial for the 100th time…homeowner 
You place the beer on the counter

They take your money and don’t ID you
You hear a couple punk kids laughing

Your muffin-top the punchline, you’re Teflon
You let a bright-faced salesperson in 

You sign up for supplemental life insurance
You order a do-it-yourself kit

Catalog everything and make a will
A twenty-something smiles at you at the store

They move their cart and let you cut in line
Your manager gives you a little box

Inside is a pin commemorating your retirement 
The family reunion you have the place of honor

As the oldest in your family
All your loved ones eagerly visit you

As you lie in a hospital bed
You feel an immense amount of weight lifted off

Then nothingness
In the distance you see a light

A doctor pulls you out and cleans you up
The imprints of little feet in sand

Around a bucket built sandcastle…

Park bench

Yesterday

I sat on your bench

I tried

To feel your resonance 

I didn’t know you

I saw you on my walks

Apparently no town 

Is too small

For homelessness 

You’d disappear 

During the day

Leaving behind your

Belongings

A ratty backpack and

Your tattered sleeping bag

Returning in the dark

To lay your head down

To sleep

The article said 

Your heart gave up
The fight

Enjoy your rest

As I lie in bed

Hating myself 

For never even

Saying

Hello

Sediment 

Take the tap

Hammerfist it into the base of my heart

Turn the spigot 

Drain the too-heavy-sludge, the sediment

Press through cheesecloth 

Boil my blood into syrup for your paincakes 

Wear good gloves

A single scratch and a mad hatter you’ll be 

Moments too heavy

They lay upon the cloth, dull like lead

My soul’s poison

Dry it in the oven’s heat until powder

Fill the urn 

Sprinkle it in the woods in a hollow log

Tethered I’ll be

Until the day the moss purifies the mecury

Then I’ll soar

Brown baggin it 


There should be limits. 

He smiled as he placed the 50 count, brown, lunch bags on the checkout conveyor. 

Driving through town, on the way to his first day at his new job, he glanced at various shops and restaurants that he had worked at previously. 

Everyone always cheered as he entered a former place of employment, and always the question of if he would be coming back to work there came up. 

It felt amazing to be missed and wanted and he was known by everyone. 

His new job was at a bottle sorting facility, that took in the redemptions and made sure the different types were sorted appropriately. 

He drove home from work that night reeking of skunky, rotten alcohol…hoping he wouldn’t get pulled over.

49. 

The next day he was completely up to speed and was able to participate in the idle chitchat with the other sorters, but quickly the conversation degraded into the typical misogynistic blathering of the clueless. 

Tomorrow his lunch would require 2 bags. 

48. 

He heard murmurs of his outperforming the other sorters and caught sideways glances, so he kept in pace with the others, but started eating his lunch at a decrepit picnic table that sat under a maple tree. 

46.

The best that could be said was that today was Friday and he made a three bag lunch that would take the entire half hour lunch period to eat. 

43.

He almost went to the local nature trail over the weekend, just so he could pack a lunch, but had thought better of it. 

Monday he put his deep fryer through its paces, making goodies for all his coworkers, making it necessary to double-bag the greasy contents…for a total of 6 bags. 

Friends were made. 37. 

The next week went by in a blur, as he continued to bring treats in for his coworkers and he inwardly felt himself speeding towards the light at the end of the tunnel…a fresh start.

He walked in Monday loaded for bear, looking to kill what was left of his brown bags throughout the week, already having spent time combing the help wanted ads, and heard the murmurs of a new start going through HR on boarding. 

He sat beneath his maple tree, on his rickety picnic table, and just as he was sinking his teeth into his sandwich the new sorter walked over and she took his breath away.

5.

By the end of the week he alienated himself from most coworkers by not bringing in any more deep fried treats, he had taped a bag over the course of a couple days and by Friday he walked in with a bag completely covered, inside and out, with duct tape, but to his surprise when he got to lunch she had brought food for the both of them…and would do so for now on–without limits. 

0.

Yup’ik: nevluk (clinging particles)


50 words for different kinds of snow

Granular, fine, crusty, blowing…

50 words for love I know

You’ve given to me in the showing

A palette of mixed hues

Crimson to egg shell blues

I use the various colors of paint that you’ve given me

Somewhere between warmth, acceptance and family

I feel the outer surface of the new word ‘love’ but can’t read it

The definition is crystal clear, perhaps it’s meant to precede it

Careful in the birthing of this new word I simply cannot misspell 

From my heart it’s bursting, as the word you’ve given me is D-A-N-Y-E-L!

Am I insane?!?


I am spending $200 on a 1915 No. 5 Underwood typewriter. That’s it. That’s the punchline.

Why?  To write the next great American novel on, of course!  Why go to this length? Two reasons: 1. I’m pretty sure there’s no internet on it, so no more wormholes of distraction. 2. I’m really hoping it’s haunted by a world class writer’s ghost that will posses me and help me write the novel.

By the way…it’s in perfect working condition and I can order ribbon from Amazon.  Crazy? Like a fox!

No, really…do I need help?

Take me to church

To connect I look for the well-worn path

It leads me down the center aisle

The trees stand as proud parishioners

The stumps serve as pews ready to receive me

The earthy smell is my incense

I breathe in the gift and give it back

A homeostatic symbiosis, singularity obtained

The wild animals are my brethren

They look at me with welcome understanding

The backlit canopy is my stained-glass window

The offering plate holds only love and promises of protection

Money doesn’t grow from trees

It’s made from their corpses

The mother suffers tremendously from man’s pursuit of it

The very fact that it’s green is blasphemous!

I come here to feel connected

I try to regain DNA’s memory

From ancestors that walked the path first

To remember what is real

To find my roots

I must dig

Bare hands

Alone

 

Why do we blog?

keyboard

Why do we blog?

Why do I blog?  I really like the community aspect of it, of getting comments and interacting with fellow writers.  I love to read your work, as well…and comment, to let you know I’m connecting with what you’ve written.  When I first started out I concentrated on follower count, but I’ve come to realize that it is the deeper connections with the individuals that means more than simply how many subscribers I have.

I blog to simply keep writing, as it is always easy to let life get in the way and let the writing slide.  Here I can write poetry, short stories, intros to possible longer pieces, and in any genre, and you will be there to give me feedback.  Feedback is the best!

I know that I should also start writing a book.  My father would always ask if I’m doing any writing for myself, outside of blogging, and I haven’t so far.  Coming to you with the posts I’ve written is my way of keeping my connection to writing, to say that I am still here and I am a writer.  Reading your work not only teaches me new styles of writing, as before I started blogging I would never had tried either poetry or memoir writing, and it also gives me strength to continue on.  We are all on the same path and when I read and connect with you it is me smiling at you as we walk along this path together.

Now…why do you blog?

Monster Boy


Growl little man

Gnash your teeth

Brandish your claw-hand

Let the power seeth

Know you can be more than you are

Your very being is made up of stars

Pretending gives you a wider horizon

Different hats all waiting for you to try on

Just remember to always return to me

My little man is my favorite you, you can be

So go ahead growl, gnash, brandish and seeth

Because beautiful, powerful and wondrous is what you are to me