DEEP THOUGHTS UPON WAKING

Published November 11, 2018 by Nan Mykel

I might be digging myself a hole here, but here goes.

On November 1st this year I gave my talk about the material in the book I self-published in 2014. After I scheduled the talk at the library, NAMI kindly stepped in and sponsored it. My daughter flew up from Atlanta to support me, and counted 25 in attendance. I gave them egg nog. Almost half those attending were friends, come to support me.

My book is actually quite good, and failed to be puchased widely because I was unable to push it. This morning I realized that my synonym for push is manipulate, and that’s something my father was good at.

Then it came to me that this is what capitalism is all about, manipulation. I don’t believe I manipulate, and am touchy when I suspect others might be trying to manipulate me. Oh I could dig down deeper and discover times when I may have unconsciously manipulated, but if so I apologize. These reflections led to the “poem” I published on my blog yesterday, and some of the feedback. I embarrassed myself by the stanza:

Poems mirror the mind, you know. What are the parts we’re willing to show?

Blood from a refugee’s eyeball

pooling on the floor at the mall?

I might have done better if I’d taken more time. But, still waking up this morning, I began to wonder who we write poems for. If we post them publicly on a blog, surely we write for others? After five years (omg, has it been five?) my readership is miniscule, which suggests that I don’t write for my readers. (Sorry).

Tho it sounds stuffy, I write from my own muse, who does a good job of comforting me. I guess I write for the echo. I recall my tidbit from the past: Here’s the thing: I’ve been talking through this loudspeaker I found in my crib 80 years ago and just now notice it’s not plugged in.

I realize a line might be drawn between therapy poetry groups and straight ones, but where does a blog fit in? And now I wonder what’s the difference between trying to make my point versus manipulating you, but at least I’m upfront about it.

A Poem Can Be About Anything

Published November 10, 2018 by Nan Mykel

I wonder if…

A Poem Can Be About Anything

What shall I share today of me;

the shades that sleep under my tree?

The wild dogs of the night who drool,

or getting an A while yet in school?

Poems mirror the mind, you know.

What’re the parts we’re willing to show?

Blood from a refugee’s eyeball

pooling on the floor at the mall?

Or perchance Paul, my sixth grade crush

forgot later in life’s mad rush;

the spear point found atop the soil

speaking loud as any gargoyle.

The soft fur of Gracie, my love

who looks after me from above;

we oft don’t speak full truth in here,

hoping instead to spread good cheer,

leaving old timbers to shake–

from an underground earthquake,

echoing the ocean’s great roar

contained yet by the shore.

Careful not to rip the bridal veil,

crawling along the moth-eaten trail

we sing out long our private song

which from Darwin’s book we took.

TOO BIG A COINCIDENCE?

Published November 2, 2018 by Nan Mykel

I have yet t hear the suggestion question that perhaps Trump is behind the “caravan.” What perfect timing!

Witch One?

Published October 29, 2018 by Nan Mykel

WITCH ONE?

Witches have been given a bad name, compared to warlocks, which are men. Whoever heard of a warlock? See, they’re kept secret, while females get all the blame. (“She’s a nasty old witch.”)

Witches are often called hag, crone, harpy, harridan, she-devil and battle-ax. Warlocks are sometimes called wizards.

If someone with a red cap riding on a broomstick asks for candy on Halloween, notice if she’s a he or not, and if he’s old and red-headed. Then you can get ready to run, but be civil!

Written in response to a blogger’s request for 99-word Halloween stories but not submitted for fear of messing with young minds.

99 words plus title

For Our Information

Published October 29, 2018 by Nan Mykel

Curious: Women versus men?

A Katha Upanishad for Millennials and Ranchers – reblog from waltbox

Published October 28, 2018 by Nan Mykel

Excellent writing style!

waltbox

The home of Yama, King of Death, was a craftsman bungalow near an urban area revitalized for Millenials. The plots in this neighborhood were tiny, the homes half the size of those in newer neighborhoods but twice the cost. Most had seen a non-load bearing wall removed to achieve an open floor concept. Owners of these homes owned vehicles with deluxe emblems on their trunks, and though the main road through the neighborhood was paved with brick, and walking for groceries or to a restaurant was encouraged, vehicles such as these needed to be driven, or rather paraded, often, if not daily. Otherwise what would be the point of anything.

Wet leaves dampened the thud of Nacho’s boot heels on the wooden steps leading to Death’s door. The steps smelled of fresh pine, and fresh paint. The potted mums of fresh soil. The curb appeal was to die for.

Nacho removed…

View original post 1,657 more words

HALLOWEEN IN ATHENS OHIO

Published October 27, 2018 by Nan Mykel

Wasn’t what we expected, was it.

Cold rain and hate murders on the telly.

Those Pittsburgh folk grieving

in the rain.

Only my feelings got hurt, not my

loved ones.

My emotions, miniscule in the presence of

blood and guts grief. Bitterness

has no place, is too much. Reality

is the name of the day. I can only imagine.

It’s Not Just a Joke After All!

Published October 13, 2018 by Nan Mykel

From salon.com:

Several days ago, Donald Trump said this at a ralley in Topeka, Kansas:

“If you allow he wrong people to get into office, things could change. Things could change and they could change fast. You don’t hand matches to an arsonist and you don’t give power to an angry left-wing mob–and that’s what they’ve become. The Democrats have become too extreme and too dangerous to govern.”

How in the world, in 2016, did we let “the wrong people get into office!”

Didn’t I read somewhere that “Thou shalt not bear false witness?”