The Daily {W}rite July 2019 wk o4

I thought about trying to be more  . . . straightforward with my writing on the blog. What does that mean? Well, perhaps less poetic and surreal  . . . a dash more realism. Instead of talking in metaphors, similes, and the occasional allegory, I might just write more . . . naturalistic? See? How hard it is to label your creative will. There are people reading my poetry online who just don't have any idea what my poetry is about:

I ask my eyes politely, please close.

Let me sleep . . . if not forever

for at least an hour or two.

Let my mind rest upon all those

shadows haunting my past

that haunt my consciousness,

please let me sleep away as in

a drunken stupor 'til the day

arrives with its warm stare

peeping through the window blonds.

I don't ask much, do I . . . my eyes?

I don't ask you to go blind to all

this . . . this mess of humanity that tries

to break the back crumble the will, crown

darkness, make it the king of the world.

I don't ask for that, for anything other than

one night, one quiet night of dreaming that

won't make me wish not to open you again.

So, my Facebook friends read this and all the get from this is a desire to help me sleep. "Oh, you should try Melatonin." "How about some warm fucking milk?" By the names! What the fuck is wrong with these people? I write a poem, I soul search a poem and all I get is recommendations for possible sleep aids! Oh, brother! But that's the poetry game for you. Yes, you want people to say more than I like your work." I actually want them to read it and say something . . . inspiring about it . . . but they don't. And you, the writer of poetry, can't really say anything about it because . . . well, people are allowed their opinion . . .even if their opinion sucks dirty socks!

Thursday, July 25, 2o19

The Hospital from HELL!

Nope. That's all I'm saying about it because it's David's story.

So, on a brighter note . . . things are mellowing out a bit for me. My anxiousness, my anger . . . a bit more under control. Well, control is not the right word, is it? It's not about control . . . it's about transforming, reinventing your emotional response system. Focusing all those negative feelings in a more positive way. Hmm. More work needed on this . . . more than that . . . it's a constant need to work on it . . . changing by allowing myself to change.

Friday, July 26, 2o19
July seems like a very long month this year. But as soon as we get through it and we hit August I'll be saying, "where did the year go?"

Yesterday David and I went to the doctor's office for his hip replacement tune up. I don't know why I called it a tune-up . . . David said that they told him that the doctor found out that the implant was made of . . . I don't know . . . some kind of metal that could become radioactive and that they need to check and see if his implant was deteriorating, and if it was they needed to replace it and . . . Holy Fuck! Anyway, what I was going to say was as we drove down Jenkins, I saw this girl in dirty jogging clothes, crumbling tennis shoes, and mismatched socks! She was standing on the corner with her mountain bike waiting for the light to change . . . and she was sweating like a Hamm's beer can in a Oklahoma summer . . . and she was breathing heavy . . . I took that to mean she'd be out in this heat a while and was riding the bike . . . I mean, hardcore riding it looked like to me . . . And I think to myself . . . why ain't I out there, riding my ass off? Hell, never gonna get rid of this barrel shaped gut if I don't get out and ride! So, thanks, girl, for giving me at least enough inspiration to at least think about getting in shape.

Saturday, July 27, 2o19
Guess what? I started an actual movie review for Once Upon a Time . . . in Hollywood. Yes! Finally got up the creative nerve to write about the movie I saw yesterday . . . but I probably won't finish it until tomorrow because after a couple of hours writing, I decided to get out on the bike and ride a bit. Gone for two and a half hours! No, not riding the whole time but probably spent at least an hour and forty-five minutes riding . . . outside . . . in the . . . HEAT!

Sunday, July 28, 2o19

Well, the bike ride was a success for me . . . but today . . . damn, took a lot out of me. Yeah, riding the bike in the Oklahoma heat . . . that's my private succubus.  Just sucked the energy out of me. Didn't even wake up until noon today. But did do some writing on the review for Once Upon a Time in . . . Hollywood. Well, at least enough writing that I decided to start rewriting it . . . tomorrow.

Still, need to keep getting out and riding the bike. Not going to lose weight sitting on the couch, a lot of time in a chair on the computer . . . used it or . . . get fatter. More to come.

Wednesday, July 31, 2o19
Well, last day in this July month and . . . I've hardly wrote anything. I hate to say it . . . but the sun these last few days? Tired me out. Okay, I know. I should not say anything about age BUT . . . used to be I could take this heat. Hell, at 63 (8 years ago) I just moved back to Oklahoma and living in OKC and it was like 110-120 degrees outside and I rode the bike all over the place, Penn Square Mall. hell, even a trip on my 63rd b-day, and I made it back and forth with just a little discomfort. But I'm 71 now. The sun and me are no longer friends. I may have to adopt the same vampire life David seems to love: stay out all night sleep all day. Well, good night, friends. Enjoy the moth of august! {smiles}

The Daily {W}rite July 2019 wk o3

So, I was online, one of the pages about movies, and this guy posted a comment about the original Die Hard movie, and he really liked it. He called it the " . . . best action movie ever!" And a lot of others agreed . . . except this one guy who wrote, "I know you're going to hate me, But I think Die Hard is stupid and clichéd." And that got me a little ticked . . . " Hey, shouldn't you trolling  the White House or something?" And I finished with w meme I made saying I Hate Trolls." Then bam! Posted the comment, smiled and went off to Braum's to buy some groceries.

So, I had lunch at Braum's ( Pepper Jack & jalapeño hamburger with fries!), and I started thinking about what I had done with the troll meme and . . . fuck. Why did I answer that guy in that way? I was being just as nasty as I thought he was being. You see? That's the trouble with trying to change . . . you can't actually change right away . . .  But the good news is that what I did actually got to me. Did I go back to the site and delete the mean meme I posted? No. Still working on that part . . . saying I'm sorry to everyone I do "bad" things to.

9:34pm
Going to a rally against immigration abuses by our government at U.S. Representative Tom Cole's office tomorrow . . . I'm fed up with these anti-American conservatives that are ruining our country. I need to show some support for the people tomorrow.

Thursday, July 18, 2o19

Storm somewhere . . .close I think. Some they can feel the storm coming in their bones, an aching in their bones. for others the coming storm is an itch and always in a place that the arm and hand just can't get to. So, you have the choice of letting the itch you can't scratch whittle away at those nerve endings you can't reach . . . or . . . find a doorway to rub yourself on. But me. I feel the coming storm in my head. Granted there's already a steady hurricane inside my skull that torments the memories, what few good memories I have, the memories that when I think on them . . . force a smile to break the frowning chains that enslave my lips day in and out . . . yes, the raging nature in my head never attacks the evil dreams, the nightmares of memory, no, those images are the evil's best friends. Yes, a storm is coming and all I can do is hide in my apartment . . . and wait for it to stumble through and when it's finally gone . . . pick up the pieces and start rebuilding . . . again.

Friday, July 19, 2o19 

RULES FOR A GOOD LIFE

1. IF you have a bloody nose that comes out of nowhere, no punch in the face, no blowing your nose too hard, it just starts bleeding . . . Don't post it on Facebook . . . . you' get all kinds of advice with the biggest being . . . Go to the Doctor's at ONCE! One person said it was a sign that I was having a heart attack, another a tumor  ("It's not a tumor!"), another suggested that I would be dead before the night was up, and my sister . . . she invites me to dinner just to check and make sure I was alright. Okay, I admit . . . I like the attention. {smiles}
2. Don't joke with your best friend about his driving.
3. Don't react to anyone who says nasty things on Facebook about movies you love. Worst one today? A movie of Cats is being released in December and the trolls are already degrading the movie and I may have said a few even nastier phrases in the direction of these stupid-ass idiots that have nothing better to do with their time than to trash the hard work of artists that . . .okay, I'm getting worked up. Rule: Don't let Facebook trolls spoil your good mood.
4. Don't keep picking at a scab  . . . it won't heal and you be stuck with an open sore, and you'll say something about it on Facebook and all your Facebook friends will comment with. "You got CANCER! See a doctor right now!"

Wednesday, o7-24-19
So, I didn't wrote much . . . well, it is a much indeed . . . but not amounting to be too much of a much. So, I'll leave it hear and go on to the last week of July.

The Daily {W}rite July, 2019 wk. o2

Wednesday, July 1o, 2o19

I'm not writing what's on my mind today. I'm in a different mood. I want to explore other options when it comes to communicating with others. Ha! Foolin'! Not sorry! Reese's. But seriously, There's a lot of anger in me and I am trying not deal with it differently when I can. But sometimes . . . I just breakout of the "Be Nice, Don't Fight" prison and go on a bit of a rampage. But it's not gelling with my best friend . . . what to do? Well, I'll think on it a while.

10:15pm
So, concentrating on something other than the bad stuff of life. The new poem for the "Ninja Poet Project" is ready to go to the printers. I've been working on the project all week and finally got something that seems to work as well as I can make it. So, tomorrow we're out and about pulling off the NINJA POET PROJECT!

Friday, July 12, 2o19

Well, this is a big disappointment. Wrote in the blog (on the blog?)  on Wednesday . . . And NOT writing another thing until Friday!

David and I drove his daughter (actually, David drove, I sat in the back taking a picture . . . or two) to a job interview out by Thunderbird Lake. She went and had her interview and

David and I drove out to one of the lake's coves. When we got back and I started processing the pics I took . . . I dubbed the short trip (her interview didn't take that long) David Gotta Speeding Ticket Massacre . . . because . . . can you guess? That's right! David gotta speeding ticket on the way out to the lake. HE was PISSED! "Well," I said, "if you wanted to avoid a ticket you should've cut your hair, got rid of the peace sign you always wear . . . and let Mabry drive."

Saturday, July 13, 2o19
Insight into one's personal life dilemma is important . . . but changing the well honed and negative ways of dealing with life . . . Life

always gets in the way of living.  People . . . get in the way of living a life that makes you feel fulfilled. But maybe that is all there is to living a good life . . . live it in spite of those who feel that  necessary to their own existence an obligation to fuck with you. Food for thought, anyway.

But this is where I am . . . now. Understanding that my thinking needs to change when it comes to life . . . living. People need to not take them as enemies but being like me who are flawed and seeking to rejuvenate themselves . . . find a river to follow . . . a dream to dream on.

Sunday, July 14, 2o19
So, this is the last day in week o2 of July. I wish I had more to say . . . but I don't. Not this week. Me head is clearing . . . the "devil" thoughts are leaving . . . I hope. And never to return . . . I hope. Anyway, concentrating on my poetry more and less and the past and all those memories that used to keep me awake all night. Still not sleeping that well, but it's all getting . . . better . . . I hope. Goodnight, dear reader. {smiles}

The Daily {W} July Happy 4th 2019 wk o1

First of July  . . . the 4th near here. The celebration of America . . . my country, tis of thee . . . and so on and on.  I looked up how many American military men/women have died  . . . in all American wars? Well, No one is jumping out there to say exactly . . . one post did say it's 1.1 million. All the American wars? It's horrible . . . but it doesn't sound like a  lot . . . a lot. I mean, all the wars that America has been involved in? One site said that the government has stopped posting the list of Middle East conflict casualties. I wonder why?  So, it is a lot but I can't find a definite count.

Anyway, I rode the bike over this afternoon to sick boy's house (David) and run it over to the landlord. Took a short trip over to the  local grocery to get a few food items . . . and what I was talking about last month, about me riding the bike and all the bad memories pop into my head? Well, it happened again as I was riding . . . but this time, instead of indulging the thoughts I pushed them away and focused on riding the bike, looking at the road, glancing at the trees I passed . . . consciously refusing to not give in "bad" thoughts. It worked . . . for a while. But in the store . . . well, somebody cut in front of me in line and I'd get so angry, so mad. I didn't say or do anything but . . . I pushed it away again . . . and it kept coming back a little stronger. I put my grocery in my backpack, pushed my cart out to the cart rack and this old lady was standing there, saw me coming and said, "Oh, your cart looks better than the one I've got here . . . would you mind if I used your cart?" And I smiled and I laughed and all the bad just went away.

Tuesday, July o2, 2o19

I'm thinking that living within the moment, one moment at a time is the best way for me. Stay out of the past  . . .  the future. Stop the time traveling . . . nothing but ghosts in the past, in the future. Life is here right now as I type this "note" to the world . . . and hope that someone hears me, understands. There's an old saying my dad used to tell me . . . "Life is hard . . . and then you die." Probably right. But he left out that park of the hard-life, the biggest part of the hart life is how difficult I make life . . . for myself.

4:30 pm

Just finished women's soccer for the day. America's team won . . . by a point against England. It was barely, though. an English goal was dismissed because of an "offside" penalty . . . which I have never understand offsides in soccer. AND the American goalie saved a penalty shot from being made. You know? I enjoy women's soccer more than the men's soccer. The women's soccer seems to move faster, more energy on the part of the players . . . and not a lot of "fake" injuries going on in woman's soccer.

I'm thinking about this month's Ninja Poetry Project. I've written a lot and I'm not sure what to go with. I had several ready to be printed . . . but the more I looked at them the more I just didn't like the way they came out. And wasn't as in love with my words I wrote as I was when I chose the poems. So, scrap it all and go back to the writing block. {smiles}

Friday July o5, 2o19

Wow! Quite a few days have passed since the last entry. But a lot, a LOT going on that I got caught up in and just did not get to writing on the blog. Sorry about that. But there were some rather miraculous things going on, I mean, like Bible prophecy stuff. My best friend had been sick for over 2.5 (or more) weeks, and on Tuesday (?)  he had a resurrection . . . just like Lazarus of Bethany  . . . he rose from the grave! And we went and had coffee . . . during the day . . . which is important because my friend doesn't like to go out during the day. The other miracle  . . . he's not a vampire. THEN we went to a movie, Midsommar, and it was weird-ass movie! And then we went out on the 4th to the Duck Pond to watch the fire works . . . and today . . . we went for coffee and I complained about his driving and he got mad because he doesn't want anyone to say anything negative about his driving, and I got mad because I don't want to die in a fuckin' car accident and . . . everything was back to normal.

Sunday, July o7, 2o19
Oops. Sorry. Missed a couple of days. You know, "things to do! Hahahaha!" I was thinking about a few things. I've been having troubles with Facebook friends and friends I once knew in real life. Some of them saying this things I'm not interested in discussing with them. If I do start a conversation with them, it will just start an argument which is not something I want to do anymore. So, if they are on Facebook, these knights against the dragon's heart . . . I just unfriend them and just never talk to them again. Ah! But what if they start talking to me? What if they just have to know why I'm no longer their "friend?" I might tell them . . . or not. IF that happens, I'll decide then and there what I wish to do. Until next week, dear readers. {smiles}