Michael Allyn Wells

Tuesday, June 11, 2013

Confssion Tuesday - On Time Edition

Surprise!

Dear Reader...

It's TUESDAY and it's confession time. I confess that I cannot recall how many weeks it has been since I actually confessed on Tuesday. I've been late, late, late. I'm thinking it's been three, maybe even four weeks since I last got it right.

Tonight I got together with some other poet friends in the northland. We read and wrote and it was all good. I confess that I realize that I need to get out more to readings & other events.

The past few weeks I've been hooked on Scandal. I confess that I often catch on to TV shows multiple seasons into to them. My wife and I both have been zipping through two seasons and wow - the shows are captivating. Honestly I was hooked 15 seconds into the first episode. My daughter Cathy Ann turned us on to it.

I'm keeping my fingers crossed as I type this. I've had some issues with my new laptop and I hope that these issues are all behind. I confess I've learned one thing about Windows 8... it is designed to just start all over when you have problems. Neat? I'm not so sure. Anyway, I'm typing with crossed fingers.

I confess tonight I wrote a keeper at the poetry meeting. I will return to it in a day or two and start reworking it to see where it takes me.

I came home tonight thinking of watermelon. We have had two super sweet ones in the past week. I had that taste hanging onto my tongue all day. I confess it was all gone when I got home. Last year the watermelons were sub par and scrawny. I confess I'm looking forward to a replacement melon in the next few days.

Sunday, June 09, 2013

The Mag - 172 / Walled Memories

Charleston Farmhouse Door

It could have been inviting.

An assemblage of colors

whose meaning is subject

to ones interpretation.

I fancied a room, a child's room.

A room from long ago,

whose inhabitant unseen

for one reason or another

for numerous years

while a proxy kept

watch over it and for

the return of the child

grown.

But the lock withdrew

any invitation to the room.

A room unchanged

perhaps dusted pristine.

Perhaps too painful

the memories-

to be reconstructed;

too painful to forget.

The Mag

Saturday, June 08, 2013

Submission Saturday....

It always feel so good when I'm finished with Submission Saturday.

last 12 months - 66
submissions still pending 24
accepted still pending publication 2

The Mag -171 / We Have Never Known

Morris Graves - Walking, Walking, Singing in the Next Dimension? 1979

Eyes pressured by destinations beyond.

Walking, walking, singing, chewing gum...

flight becomes the norm. Man becomes bird,

becomes one with air, the sky, and the heavens.

The mind in circles

spirals off to new heights

now we are the hawks

we are the song birds

we are the doves...

We calculate

we praise

we seek a peace doesn't exist

but we know it is out there.

We have always been evolving,

becoming...

We have never known

what we will be tomorrow.

The Mag

Thursday, June 06, 2013

Confession Tuesday - Um edition

Dear Reader: It's been 5 days since my last confession which was very late and now this one too is tardy since it should be cone on Tuesday, hence the name "Confession Tuesday."

I confess that I have toyed with changing the date but I suspect that would not work any better. If you get busy and forget, or as I confess the case was Tuesday night, I took my daughter to a ballgame then crashed and burned when we got home.

I confess I have not written much since the weekend. I've actually thought about taking a short break and while I ruled this out I realized if I haven't been writing much I already have essentially taken a break of sorts. Are you starting to realize a theme here? Like say confusion?

But let's go back to Tuesday night. I Confess that as much as I love baseball, being there with my daughter was the real treat. My wife and I used to go to games sometimes together but she doesn't like the heat, humidity, scorching sun (pick one) that normally is associated with the game. I don't blame her for that. Still, I confess that miss her at games.

At the game Meghan and I saw an interesting bird on the guy wire that held up the net behind home plate. Using my Audubon phone application we determined it must have been an Orange crowned Warbler. This was a cool memory of the ballpark, as was Gordon's throw from left field where he nailed the runner on what seemed like a sure fire double. I confess the Royals offense sucked. But you find you moments in a game where you can. Sometimes the bats aren't happening.

I confess that I still recall today as the day Robert F. Kennedy died. Having won the California Primary on the night of June 5th I still recall shortly after excitedly hearing clips from his victory speech at the Ambassador Hotel in LA, the news wires were abuzz with word of him being shot a close range in the hotel. I was in school back then and I recall that we had a class picnic planned at Tower Park. Several of us stayed glued to a transistor radio for reports on his condition throughout the morning.

Last weekend I had to go up on our roof and make a repair in a leak around a vent in our roof. I confess that my knees are just beginning to feel within a normal range from my roof trip. If they remain of only minimal discomfort I plan to get my bike out a ride a bit this weekend. Of course that also depends on having a weekend that is not all showers.

I confess my head feels a little clearer now. Maybe confession has been a good thing. I confess my lunch our is about over and I need to get back to work.

Saturday, June 01, 2013

Submission Saturday - On Deck

I set up a folding table on the deck moments ago and brought my laptop out. There is sun on the far end of the deck but I'm where I can catch some shade for a while anyway.

I brought the dogs out... Mo is sun bathing on the deck and Klaus is watching me dutifully. Barry is... well he's out of sight doing his own thing. He's a dachshund, I wouldn't expect anything else.

And so begins Submission Saturday... it starts with the shade with a cool breeze. Who knows how it will end.