I don’t write in a journal everyday, but I have accumulated many entries over the past 50+ years beginning in 1966. Some items evolved into longer works. Among the leftovers little pieces survived. I thought a collection of these with a piece culled from the same date in a past year would make an interesting yearbook. The consistencies and inconsistencies of mind, skipping back and forth across time, provide varied perspectives. It is difficult to remember the context of the past we’ve lived; we also make suppositions about times that predate ourselves.

The few alterations from original drafts were to improve clarity. The worst of my work is not included. There remains enough mediocrity and immaturity to make me feel humble and you feel smart. There are also moments of accidental insight and incidental humor.

Author Stephen Crane referred to his little pieces as pills…apparently they were small and somewhat hard to swallow, but good for you.


Comments Welcome!

Wednesday, October 26, 2022

Can you get up? How many fingers?

 

from this week in October, 2006  (I was 61)

 

Can you get up?  How many fingers?

You got your bell rung.  Can you stay in?

It’s true.  It happens.  I saw stars.

Not stars exactly, sparklers.

Shit ya I can stay in

What the hell kinda langwidge is zat?

Cool dark night of my senior year

Took it on the chin, mighta been kicked

Part of the game, happen zall a time

Back in the huddle call signals for the play

really nice night someone carries the ball

Threw a block in there like I was suppose ta

Kept on goin’ and things took me with ‘em

Sometimes seems it was most real

Combined waking with reality of dreams

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