Approach to Cubi Point Naval Air Station, Olongapo, Philippines. The sun set on another blistering day in the Philippines as our C-130 touched down at Cubi Point Naval Air Station. The war in Vietnam was nine-hundred miles in the past. I could finally relax and put the horror of that last, bloody attack behind me. For the next week at least, I wouldn’t have to … Continue reading Honey Ko, (Sweetheart), Book 2, Chapter 7: Frank Bailey. 1968
Author’s Photo. The view from the apartment bedroom. I edged the gate open with a gentle push, but the squeal of the rusty hinges gave me away. I uttered a silent oath when Aida poked her head out the window. Oh, Tommy, she cried. You forget again the oil. I’ll bring the oil home tomorrow, Aida. I promise. Yoshi had run ahead, barking at the … Continue reading Honey Ko (Sweetheart), Book 1, Chapter 6
Back in the apartment, I put away the picnic supplies while Aida unpacked and put away the clothes, a quantity of clothing since she had taken advantage of the laundromat at the cottage rather than wash them by hand at the cement sink in the courtyard. After we were settled on the sofa, she nestled against me and watched television while I read. Soon, her … Continue reading Honey Ko (Sweetheart), Book 1, Chapter 5, Part 2
Romance and a sexual tension made the air surrounding us buzz with expectation and fulfillment of some deep-seated desire or need. Holding her suddenly seemed so much more than just an embrace between two people. I saw Aida now as a necessary part of me, an essential element in what made me who I was. At the time, I didn’t realize what had happened. Only … Continue reading Honey Ko (Sweetheart), Book 1, Chapter 5, Part 1
The flicker of lights along the arc of the shoreline to Subic City snapped me from my reverie. The rising moon with the mountains in silhouette, the soft lapping of the waves, the warm night, all induced a languidness I didn’t want to disturb. Satisfaction with the moment, the weekend, the treasure hunt with Aida all combined to lift my spirit, and for a moment, … Continue reading Honey Ko (Sweetheart), Book 1, Chapter 4, Part 2
***Author’s Photo. Ferry launch to Grande Island (No, not the big one!) Officer’s Landing, Subic Bay Naval Station, Olongapo, Philippines 1983. Aida, sweet and lovely like the opera, searched for treasure among the debris washed ashore by the latest storm of the monsoon. Her breasts filled her top as she leaned over to examine a bright and colorful smorgasbord of seashells, pebbles, smooth-worn glass, and … Continue reading Honey Ko (Sweetheart), Book 1, Chapter 4, Part 1
**(Photo provenance unknown) Shit River Bridge between Subic Bay Naval Station and Olongapo. The banca boats hold Shit River “Princesses” who entice coins from passing Sailors and Marines. The young boys dive in after the coins.** The sun rose blood-red through the ash drifting from Mount Pinatubo’s smoking crater. Enough moisture filled the air to quench a dying man’s thirst. The wind pushed the sun’s … Continue reading Honey Ko (Sweetheart), Book 1, Chapter 3
Photo by Dominik Simecek The balut man’s quavering voice penetrated my sleep-filled head, and I squinted at the clock. My brain read zero-dark-early, but six a.m. glowed bright and cheery in the dark. He called out again as he wobbled away, pushing his creaking handcart. Baluuut. Baluuut. Aida peeked at me from behind the edge of the bedsheet. She scratched the side of her nose and … Continue reading Honey Ko (Sweetheart), Book 1, Chapter 2
Photo of “Aida” by the Author I’ve decided to serialize Honey Ko, my first novel, here over the next few months. I’m also serializing the novel on my page on Medium. If you write on Medium, let me know and I’ll follow you. Tom Nelson It’s funny how the heart aches the same way in grief and love. It’s as if the heart refuses to … Continue reading Honey Ko (Sweetheart), Book 1 , Chapter 1
Any port in a storm, but not this one Photo by Tahir Osman The work day fell into the history books as the swinging doors closed behind him. Their echo down the long, bare passageway rang in his ears like the tinnitus that would drive him to near madness years later when gray outran his youth. The cold of the passageway went bone deep despite the … Continue reading Portholes
Photo by antonio filigno Concealed, earthy memberhidden ‘neath modest skinburied by bashful eyesbidden there in fear of sin,yet let a growing urge recall to mind the farmingof the seed without which,good lord, no mouths tofeed; but do not let the urge subside ‘neath somemoral ambiguity; take heart,take hand, maneuver ’tilit come and spill and fillthe well from which all pleasure spring Continue reading Eruption
…just don’t cross your legs Photo by John Rocha Hmmmm that feels so good stop wriggling around I wish it would never stop I have to come up for air sometime not if it makes you stop there’s something wrong with that statement I don’t care. it feels soooo good to stretch and writhe around while you do that well, I guess I can work … Continue reading Hmmmm that feels so good
Photo by Clark Young I don’t know that I answered the question why do I write. Why do I write? Do I write because I want people to “hear” what I have to say? Do I write to impress others? Do I write to impress others with my talent, gift, skill, knowledge, need, neuroses, desire? Why do I write? Why do you write, Will? Why? … Continue reading On Writing: Why Do You Write?
because she thought I was the only one who loved her Just seeing you was enough to bring me back to life your smile so bright and sweet your hugs most likely to sweep me off my feet and spear my soul with the love you saved for me tho’ I never knew how deeply wounded the spirit I knew as charming and warm inviting … Continue reading She Called Me Honey
When I was thirteen or so, Dad told me to get off my derrière and earn some money. Up to that point my responsibilities consisted of emptying the household trash and helping dad maintain our gargantuan lawn I called Sandspur Central. I was productive in a minimalist way. So, understanding Dad ruled the roost and would probably begin taxing me soon for room & board, … Continue reading How I Maximized My Productivity
What she sees is anybody’s guess. Her brow is worried and her eyes stare at something. She’s anxious and frantic as she fights the inner turmoil of the beast that burrows into her guts, roiling her thoughts as it preys on her mind, riding the weakness that’s intensified with time as the memories flash by like the stops of a film of her past with … Continue reading Marianne, Part II
She outlived herself but seemed to die younger than her fifty-eight years. Which seems strange since she chased the worm from her teen years on. I’ve heard that drunks grow hard and worn before their livers give up, but she never looked that way; I guess I didn’t know her the way I thought. My second sister and the closest of four to my heart … Continue reading Marianne, Part I
I don’t remember the last time my dad and I shared a father-son moment. I can’t recall a time after childhood when awkwardness, discomfort, and suspicion didn’t taint our relationship. The father-son times we shared before I entered my teens weren’t yet memories by the time I turned thirteen. I learned at various times as a teenager that I was no good, that I would … Continue reading Hurtful Words and a Father’s Pride
Eleven days of relentless killing of innocent Ukrainians by a madman obsessed with rebuilding the glorious USSR and the West still dithers over whether to stop buying the madman’s oil. I feel the pain of four dollar gas, but at least I’m not feeling the pain of family and neighbors dying in a hail of bullets, shrapnel, and, soon, what, gas? Mustard gas? Nuclear fallout? … Continue reading At What Price?
Apologies to Irving Berlin’s Puttin’ on the Ritz Have you seen the Russian troops Wearing bloody combat boots? As they’re marching on the West Earning medals for Vlad’s chest. Vlad’s seeking who knows what? Looking for his billionaire’s cut? Money’s no object in his war Biden’s billions help kill more. If you’re bored and don’t know where to go Why not go and declare a … Continue reading Putin on the Blitz
Well….. You….. Live in El Dorado And your pocket’s full of gold You live a life of ease and peace of mind You pay the taxman whining And you cuss at the TV Your favorite singer’s twerking While you quaff your pale ale Your lobster bisque is tepid And the ice in your tea melted Well….. Your….. World crashed around you Your day is beyond … Continue reading Life Sucks…May I Have a Glass of Whine?
Reflections from my annual Sanity Restoration Vacation in Maine. I spend two weeks alone camping and hiking in the Moosehead Lake Region. After fifty weeks of human congestion, I need time to recharge and rejuvenate My spirit goes flat for most of the year Though I’m normally joyful, filled with good cheer The world seems tuned to negative press Nature is where I go to … Continue reading Refreshing My Sanity
From the prompt: Drunk on Promises They said She was smart She had a beautiful heart Had The world at Her feet Dream big Little darlin’ And when You feel the heat Remember You got a world Of promises In a jar She was drunk On promises And gin When she died Far from home All alone In a car Continue reading Drunk on Promises
On the Road with My Old Man Looking ahead beyond the highs and lows I just now realize I don’t have far to go Now that I know what to look for and see There ain’t much more can up and surprise me Rocks in my path have mostly crumbled away But nothing is smooth in this life anyway I’m taking my next step on … Continue reading On the Road with My Old Man
How long did I know you It was so long ago You were a woman I had yet to shave I toed your waters Afraid to dive in You said come here I was over my head I was so young How little I knew About love and loving So little about you But you were gentle And when the time came I told you … Continue reading Tokyo Bar Girl
Well, I’m goin to hell and there’s nothin I can do Why would God forgive me when I never heard a truth I’m a sinner by birthright and a devil in disguise Born of sinners, raised in sin, no light in my eyes Shine a light on my heart Shine it in my eyes Make me turn against myself And see you through their lies … Continue reading Whose Truth?
Riddled through with eyes Dogs my furtive footsteps Creeps my sweating skin Turns me round and around Though, unseen, I think, by any, Or, maybe seen, perhaps, Yet does my anxious mind See shadows in the dark Concealment is my friend My prison too, at that Hidden from prying eyes But nervous of surprise Too fearful to confront Lest give away the deed If blackmail … Continue reading Guilty
Inky blackness, and the faintest glow Of light from around the door, Reminded me again Of the people I was serving for The blackest of night Devoid of light But for the faint patch Around the ship’s hatch Within the gray, steel hull Five thousand people Live, laugh, and, occasionally, cry When loneliness creeps in as it does by and by Funny, I think, how … Continue reading Inky Blackness and the Faintest Glow of Light from Around the Door
In fairy tales we often read A speck of truth as a mustard seed, A leap of faith, a bitter pill to some Who swallow whole without question Tales of fancy scribed by men whose Dreams compel the scratch of pen, The leaving of some trace of thought That, perhaps, all is not for nought. Continue reading Faith
Shadows hover above me grasping at my heels swiftly pulling me into an unfamiliar sky; wailing at the light that blinds I’m unwilling to abide while slapped then cradled until my cries subside; fear and wonder fill my head as I leave the world to which I’m tied slate clean and pure as snow and casting the first stone at fate; by the time you’re … Continue reading All Love is Colorblind
I am excited! excited! excited! honored, humbled, and – did I say excited? – that my poem, Perfection, arranged for piano by composer and pianist Margin Alexander, will be presented in concert February 27th in New York City alongside works by fourteen other international poets. I can’t be there in person but I provided a recording of myself speaking the poem. I’ll join the concert … Continue reading “Raining Words On the Piano”
The oath I took when I enlisted in the Navy and, for twenty-seven years, re-affirmed to at each re-enlistment and promotion, states that I will defend the nation against all enemies foreign and domestic. That hallowed oath resides in me until I leave this Earth. My veteran friends who align with me politically often state that they are ready to take up arms to defeat … Continue reading What the…?
Originally posted on Writers Envy:
1984 came and left; people wondered at the commotion. As it turned out, 1984 was only a prophecy of the brave new world to come, an inferno that we’re entering now. We wanted a republic, but we’ve built an animal farm ruled by self-righteous pickpockets in a world where the temperature creeps ever closer to Fahrenheit 451, a degree of… Continue reading 1984 Redux
Each stroke sends passion flying. An exuberance of current with the drop drop drop of joy splashing into the river that greets and flows goodbye. A spray of elation brings shivers under goosebumps and a warming embrace. The back burns hot and skin turns red but the driving force is strong. The final thrust is yet to come, but come it will, spent in a … Continue reading The Timeless Echo
Haha 😂😂😂😂 Continue reading Hindsight
I know I should help But lets wait and see Maybe someone Will do it for me This couch is so soft I’m not going to move I did my part In the voting booth If there’s a war on They’ll fight it for me I’m on their side Just let me be I read the news I know what’s going on I pray from … Continue reading Let Someone Else
To-Be Am Then Time permeates me relentlessly in a stream rushing, babbling, trickling as the case may be I inhale you You inhale me We exhale us To Be, Am, Then flow through and out a stream of us tobeamthen Autumn is for sowing seed for growth that follows winter not every winter ends in spring but every autumn ends in winter … Continue reading Every Autumn Ends in Winter
Originally posted on Her Writing Haven:
There are days when you are close,but mostly days when you are far.And sometimes, even the starsseem to wonder where you are. This pushing and pullingdue to some odd gravitational forcealways leaves me to wonderif you’ve just gotten off course. And my soul is forever searching,looking for a definitive sign,to show me you’re alright,in the midst of this decline.… Continue reading How are you?
The picture window in the richly appointed office of the Secretary for the Elimination of Fascist Activities overlooked the National Mall. The Secretary left his mahogany desk and stood at the window, hands behind his back. Outside, off to the left, the tall, black National Oppressed Peoples’ Monument stood needle straight within the Ring of Flags representing countries liberated from capitalist oppressors. The gray sky … Continue reading The List, Part II, First Draft
They came in the middle of the night. Expletive-screaming teams of jackbooted, black-clad List Enforcers battered down doors. Family pets were shot as Enforcers dispersed to round up sleeping children and parents. Bound and blindfolded, whole families were herded into cattle trucks, crammed in so tight taking a full breath was impossible. The weak and elderly succumbed quickly. They were fortunate. The wailing of terrified … Continue reading The List
Mortally wounded Lashing out Harsh is the fight Harsh tongues Harsh eyes Harsh lights Harsh sounds The call of the eagle is muted By the death cry of the hyena. Continue reading Death Throes of Civilization
A very rough draft of the opening chapter to Dancing with Orange Blossoms, the prequel to Honey Ko. I’m not sure I could write an entire novel this way, or if readers would enjoy it. Maybe I could bookend it this way but write the rest in the traditional manner.Thoughts? Is the italicized portion disconcerting? Is narration by a dead person too much. Finally, is … Continue reading Dancing with Orange Blossoms
I don’t fill the room I’m in, my presence slips quite thin between the walls, behind a chair, outside in the air; the vacuum I exist between pushes me both ways, to pop the empty bubble, to see what isn’t there. Is there a name for the space between two slabs of concrete block? That’s the way it’s always been, I’m a shadow drowned in … Continue reading I Don’t Fill The Room I’m In
Here’s a very rough draft of the opening chapter of my next novel, William Goodfellow. A tale of hope, self-discovery, disillusion, repentance, acceptance, and peace William Goodfellow dashed the hoe from his hands and stared at the earth packed beneath his torn fingernails. “This is madness. I am a man, not an animal,” he cried, and fled his field of corn and the blazing sun … Continue reading William Goodfellow, Farmer
A loud, noisy grateful shoutout to Ana P. Rose for the post idea. Thank you, Ana! 😊 My first foray into writing was a poem I wrote when I was 15. I still have it. English was my favorite class. I dedicated my first novel, Honey Ko, to my High School and College English teachers. Mr. Grundy told me I could write, Mr. Karlin taught … Continue reading Random Thoughts – Writing and Writers
Soft curl of a sweeping wave breaking on a sandy beach; crystal clear dew drops dangling from a leaf; wind- whispers leaning on pond grass with feather-tips softly sighing for the dragonflies hovering near; random dreams while dozing in the warmth of a sunny day in May; rose petals’ intimate, layering spirals; the delicate filigree of your ear; soft caress in the touch of your … Continue reading Perfection
When it snows, lips closed, eyes shut tight, seeing you, behind the mist, you’re so smooth, slip away, beating breast, burning up, snow-capped peak, kiss your lips, let it go, push away, catching flakes, on your tongue, melting snow, on your cheek, wipe away, tired me Continue reading Snow-Capped
Green, green of eye, with strangled cry and knuckled mouth, chasm-echoed tricks of thought, devil-filled, of shadows in the dark Behold the crack of heart’s desire, where love is thwarted, thinking he, she seeks another, one not he, but he his brother He must fly at risk of thunder from fool well-versed in blunder, bethought a man, beheld a cripple weak of heart and branded … Continue reading Gentle Dove of Sweetly Cooing Breast
Did the Greatest Generation sacrifice for nothing? The further removed we are from that era the greater the life of ease we’ve gained. Returning Sailors and GIs came home to an American economic machine powering the world. Old military barracks were turned into housing while the forerunners of Levittowns were built. Suddenly, suburbs were springing up all across America, dads were using the GI Bill … Continue reading What is Freedom?