I Mistook My Mistake for Wisdom

Something sudden; atypical, new–

I’m shocked, surprised, and dumbfounded too.

Is this a gift from meditation?

Leftovers from reincarnation?

I feel  synchronicity at work;

it may be my spirit’s payback perk.

I think that the Ouija foretold this

as well as that weird astrologist

but voices in my head give a shout.

Before you leap, you’d better watch out!

I stop just in time to realize

that I wasn’t being very wise,

and need not choose my life mate yet

but breathe deep and pat my pet

and remember–

If wishes were horses beggars would

ride and I don’t see any riding.


About Nan Mykel

I used to think I would be a child prodigy, but then I got old. Formerly I had fantasies of rubbing elbows with cultural and academic leaders but that did not come to pass because I did not become a cultural or academic leader or any other kind of leader, for that matter. I am not even an "Alpha Dog," a term learned from a friend who had to become "Alpha Dog" in order to influence her own pet. (When gazes lock, she never looks away.) For years I expected to become a published author, but in passing I could not avoid the fact that I had little to contribute to the world's bulging dumpsters. I'm embarrassed to report that I also considered my primary process artistic productions powerful, rather than mildly neurotic. Which is not to say that I disrespect myself, only that I am beginning to doubt my potential for making a mark on the world. If I focus on strict self discipline I may be able to keep my garbage removed on a weekly basis, to keep the kitty box changed, the clothes cleaned, the dog watered, fed and walked, but that just catches me up to the starting mark again. When writing I physically grapple with words, wrestling them from their indifference into attempted chunks of awareness. I sit heavily on my chair; I breathe in artificially cooled air; my ear drums note the tap tap of the keyboard and the steady uninterrupted sound of the air conditioner, What is that sound? The roar of the ocean from 30 yards away...Inside, my thoughts are are balls in an electronic game machine, bouncing hither and yon from lever to lever. I am a little grim and intent until I recall a dream related by a black man in the prison where I once worked. He said that when he was a small boy, back home, he dreamed he was standing on his front porch pissing, and that he suddenly found himself pissing stars...
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11 Responses to I Mistook My Mistake for Wisdom

  1. whimsygizmo says:

    I like the spill of this, very much.


    • Nan Mykel says:

      Thanks for running it down. As I understand it, I copy my poem as a post and send that URL to Mr Linky. Not sure if the background should be white or look like my colorful blog. There’s an important piece of info either I’m missing or forgetting! I’m trying to learn the poetry lingo. Could you explain what “spill” refers to? Flow? Thanks for the response.



      • whimsygizmo says:

        Yes, what I mean is the way the words spill together, both down the page, and in their sound, and meaning. The choices you’ve made in line breaks, etc. Wonderful.


  2. Sanaa Rizvi says:

    Such a lovely write 🙂


  3. Great spirit.. Sometimes we have to find our own paths.


  4. How fun, Nan. Don’t want to jump without checking the depth of the water. Plus, pets are so easy to love and always love you back.


  5. This flows nicely and the rhyming is well done, Nan.


  6. SMiLes there was
    a now when i could
    not feel the same
    as same my Friend
    and then i found out
    the rest was true and
    documented it all the way
    through.. but it doesn’t ‘matter’
    unless one iS iN a real miracle
    that even scientists and doctors cannot explain..
    When wishes become real rides the rest is history
    my friend in Ripley’s believe it or not.. or at least that’s
    what the
    relates.. WitH Winks..:)


  7. C.C. says:

    The rhyming you’ve incorporated into this gives the whole thing a nice lyrical sound. Thanks for joining in, Nan 🙂


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