All posts for the month October, 2016

Quote from Child of Cynicism

Published October 31, 2016 by Nan Mykel

(Re Wallflowers)

We’ve come to the conclusion that if we’re single at 40, we’ll marry each other-I mean, there’s no sexual attraction, but I dont see why we couldn’t be an asexual/watching countryfile together kind of partnership. She’s my safety wife, and, in all honesty, she’d probably last longer than a cat. There’d be no vet bills either, and I’d like to think she’d pay her way.


Published October 30, 2016 by Nan Mykel

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A DAILY JOURNAL?  Isn’t that passe or something for this crowd?  Well I began it tonight (10/29/16), and I’ll only post it on my new Daily Journal page, so it won’t interfere with snappy things.  Right now I’m using it as I discard files forever, and want to grab a piece or two first.

The Poem By Yeats

Published October 29, 2016 by Nan Mykel

I had heard two of these lines at certain times but did not note which of Yeats’ poems they came from.  I just found it on Google and want to share it.  Can you guess the two lines referred to?

The Song of Wandering Aengus


I went out to the hazel wood,

Because a fire was in my head,

And cut and peeled a hazel wand,

And hooked a berry to a thread;

And when white moths were on the wing,

And moth-like stars were flickering out,

I dropped the berry in a stream

And caught a little silver trout.


When I had laid it on the floor

I went to blow the fire aflame,

But something rustled on the floor,

And some one called me by my name:

It had become a glimmering girl

With apple blossom in her hair

Who called me by my name and ran

And faded through the brightening air.


Though I am old with wandering

Through hollow lands and hilly lands,

I will find out where she has gone,

And kiss her lips and take her hands;

And walk among long dappled grass,

And pluck till time and times are done

The silver apples of the moon,

The golden apples of the sun.


                                William Butler Yeats

They were “But something rustled on the floor

and someone called my name.”

Once I heard them in 1991 at a David White conference.   Who’s Aengus? He’s a god of love and beauty in Celtic mythology.  From   many sites on Google under the title.

Itchy Fingers on the Keyboard

Published October 28, 2016 by Nan Mykel

Goodbye so soon, since I believe I’m going to join the November NaNoWriMo (sp?), with a goal of writing 50,000 words during the Thanksgiving month. At least I’ll have a good excuse for not roasting turkey.


He was curled up to himself like a babe,

the remains we found  around the bend

beside the brook, as we perambulated

without a care until this old fellow

came into view.  Poor, by his looks, and

quite dead and cold.  Who did he belong to,

who had his heart?



It’s difficult to work a jigsaw puzzle

without the big picture, and we don’t

get to see that until the end.




it sits there with its three sets

of horns and a mirror,  over

the hinged seat for galoshes,

upon four curved legs, its

century-old veneer  now


When I think of the dear faces

it has reflected I grow restive.

Are traces of  grandma not

in there behind the glass, nor Larry

who died as a child?

Did it not absorb anything it

reflected, not even grandmama who

never had to brush her own hair,

nor the slave who did?



Canes are such fun to use!

You can hobble so much faster,

even use them for swatting,

while my old heart fibrillates

at your touch.

(I reckon you know I’m pulling

your good leg.  Did you guess?)



If my calico cat is a male,

he’s transgender.

Did you know?



Are there really any flat earth people left?

How about Holocaust deniers?

Or UFO deniers?


If Free Will exists, as I’m told,

I will my verse to unfold.

Right here and now I direct,

and I WILL that it be perfect.


Ernest Becker Quote

Published October 28, 2016 by Nan Mykel

The Denial of Death  had a significant  impact on me when I read it more than 20 years ago. I came across a quote from it as I was cleaning out my things:Image result for Ernest Becker image

“This, after all is said and done, is the only real problem of life, the only worthwhile occupation of man: What is one’s true talent, his secret

Image result for Ernest Becker imagebeckerdownloadgift, his authentic vocation? In what way is one truly unique, and how can he express his uniqueness , give it form, dedicate it to something beyond himself? How can the person take his private inner being, the great mystery that he feels  at the heart of himself,  his emotions, his yearnings, and use them to live  more distinctively, to enrich both himself and mankind with the peculiar quality of his talent?”

But he also wrote, “Creation is a nightmare spectacular taking place on a planet that has been soaked for hundreds of millions of years in the blood of all its creatures.” (p 282)  Makes you think, huh?


Published October 26, 2016 by Nan Mykel

Who’s your best friend?  If you’re with a friend, chatting, don’t ask the question.  I was asked, recently, by a friend.

Having attended 11 schools in 12 years, I never stayed long enough to have a best friend — or rather to be someone else’s best friend.  Anyone would probably have been  my “best” and only friend.

Oh, I blossomed to a degree during graduate school,  but coming down with borderline personality proclivities limited me.  When age cured my borderline tendencies, I was left with avoidant preferences (like staying home and talking to the ethernet.)  If you should be asked who’s your best friend, some might say Jesus, some might cite their husband/wife, some might recall a dear friend whom they  still cherish, but who moved far away and recently dropped them  from their Christmas card list.

I remember in the seventh grade pouring over the social pages  of our newspaper, trying to discover parties being given by acquaintances to which I hadn’t been invited.  Guess that was my masochistic stage.  Being an incest survivor didn’t help one helluva bunch.  And what about  a good friend plus a new good friend?  What criteria is used to judge “best?”  Of course the role  of neediness weighs in.  There are a couple of folks in constant  need, and despite all the talk of always being there for others, with staunch emotional support, what if they drain me?  I think my soul has shriveled up with old age.  But I’m not needy!  Don’t you worry about me!  (You’re supposed to laugh here.)

Back to my friend, maybe my best friend,  who originally asked me.  Faced with that unexpected question, I immediately flashed on how many friends she has, and constantly makes.   She’s an    incredibly vivacious, lovable woman who brightens her environment.  I imagined replying that she was my best friend, all the while knowing that would put me in a vulnerable light.  Something like, “You poor thing, if you think I’m your best friend, I’d rate you as maybe one of my thirty.”  Of course my wretched ego couldn’t handle that. Not from my best friend!

O, I forgot to mention that along the years I’ve also become a tad obsessive, so I plan to send her a copy of this post, (My best friend doesn’t visit my blog, nor my next-to-best one either).


Published October 26, 2016 by Nan Mykel


If the circle can be believed, we are one with all, together, safe and contained.still-3

If the mandala mirrors truth, we rise and fall within our connected minds.

If we believe the spiral, we know that we return again and again to revisit our challenges.

Or the ancient maze,  where searching, we find our way or are lost,



If you were a red light

and I were the green

we would never be blue.

If you were a brook

and I was a raindrop

I’d lose myself in you.



If God had a tattoo, what would it say?

(Answers solicited)


From Uttley:

“I heart Mom”


From petrujviljoen

“What the hell!”


Published October 26, 2016 by Nan Mykel


Alternet Headlines ( reports that  but as election law expert Rick Hasen told the Washington Post, even if there’s no coordinated intimidation, one of the things this rhetoric can do is “get rogue people riled up. Trump sets the fuse and lets someone else do the explosion. It strikes me as a very dangerous thing to be suggesting, because it does lend itself to the possibility of violence at the polls.”

[Or AFTER it, if it goes against Trump.]  I don’t think anyone is verbalizing it, but if he wanted to ride into the white house on the wave of a revolution, he seems to have scripted it. In the white house with his own tv network?  Saints preserve us.


I’m Back

Published October 26, 2016 by Nan Mykel

Back after several days with a computer whose keyboard wouldn’t write on the monitor.  I’m creeping along trying to sort my hoard. In case  you don’t believe me, here’s a few horrid lines that I’m not going to save:

DINNER                                                                                                               sad old pix

If you were a vulture

and I was dead meat,

you would have something to eat.



Eeny meanie miney money.

Gotta get some for my honey.



My cat he looks like he could cry.

His eyes meet mine; he gives a sigh.

He licks his paw and gives a mew

as other cats are wont to do,

but also wonders, “Who am I?”



My emotions are like sandpaper today.

Rub me wrong if you don’t believe it.


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