Death was imminent, but we persevered Waves crash still against the granite rocks we clambered upon in those years when fear of death held no sway over us. Dangerously ignoring the power of the sea to crush, to sweep away, to erase our young lives in the curl of a wave, we laugh as we grip cliff-side fingerholds until the sea recedes and we lower … Continue reading Swept Away By The Sea
I came to the woods because I wanted to live deliberately…and not, when I came to die, I had not lived.
Henry David Thoreau. “Walden.” 1854. Continue reading Walking with Thoreau. We trod the Maine woods.
Let your heart be the shutter Moxie Pond. The Forks, Maine. Photo Credit: Will Pennington If I ever see Michelangelo’s David or Pietà sculptures in person, I will, without shame, bawl my eyes out. Artistic beauty, those works created by the human hand, exert such a pull on my heart and mind that I cannot stop the flood of emotion that overwhelms me. This extends … Continue reading Shooting from the Heart
I’d like to cross over here. Kennebec River. The Forks, Maine. Photo Credit: Will Pennington What if we knew when we would die? I guess that’s everything. Are you sure? You haven’t forgotten anything? Let’s run through the checklist again. No. I’ve treble-checked it. If I have forgotten something, I won’t need it where I’m going. What if you get lost? Get lost? I hardly … Continue reading Time’s Up. Two Silver Coins for the Ferryman
Photo Credit: Will Pennington. Lake Moxie. The Forks, Maine. Inspired by a writer friend’s post about her 50’s being the cruelest decade – loss of old friends to sickness, Alzheimer’s, aging poorly, giving up, and to my own recent loss of two friends from my childhood church, one 12 years younger than I, one 12 years older. Time knows no Master. Time was, is, and … Continue reading Father Time Comes Knocking (Don’t make Eye Contact)
Point Loma from NAS North Island, CA. 1986 Photo Credit: Will Pennington My business trip with the Navy to San Diego last week was like going home. The joy began when, while riding the bus to the rental car center, I spotted the USS Carl Vinson — my last ship — tied up at North Island. Ohh, the memories. USS Carl Vinson (CVN-70). Photo Credit: US Navy/Mass Communication Specialist … Continue reading San Diego: Almost Home
She wasn’t beautiful to some, but she had many lovers in her lifetime and they thought her beautiful. She had accepted them, taken them in, loved them, accepted their gifts, sent them away. She sailed west with the tide one morning. A pregnant lady bursting with excitement and impatient to birth the force within her womb. To birth them across the sea and into troubled … Continue reading The Vessel
Dad wasn’t an affectionate man, while I know Mom craved his touch and sweet words. Dad always signed off on phone calls and letters by saying “We love you.” Mom always signed off saying “I love you.” I should have mentioned this in Part 1, Dad’s story: His father was a cruel man not above humiliating his children in front of others. He once ridiculed … Continue reading Saying Goodbye to My Dying Parents, Part 2, Mom
We were three days sail out of Pearl Harbor in November 1994 when the Red Cross message clattered from the teletype: Mother of servicemember requests return home. Father in coma after heart attack. Not expected to survive. “Sixty-seven isn’t old. How can this be?” Were the USS Tripoli an aircraft carrier, they might have flown me off on the C-2 Greyhound. But the Tripoli was … Continue reading Saying Goodbye to My Dying Parent, Part 1: Dad
The post below was written by a Navy buddy of mine, Ronnie Deschenes. We served together in VP-8 aboard NASB. He was an ABH while I was an AMS. We both enlisted as SRs and promoted to PO2 by the time we left the SQDN. He lives in MA now but still visits ME on occasion. Luv U Bro! SRSL!! (Show Ronnie Some Love!) “How … Continue reading Accronish? LOL 😂😂
Originally posted on Writers Envy:
My parents were the genesis Of all I have become, Their hopes and dreams, Immortality, Vested in the son. Father gave me purpose Skill at work and play, Mother gave me love, Home, And held me every day My parents made the sacrifice To help me find my way, Their toil and sweat, Prayers, Inspiration to this day. I haven’t… Continue reading My Parents Were The Genesis
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
…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
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?
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
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
Haha 😂😂😂😂 Continue reading Hindsight
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?
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
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?
My first attempt at a video ad. Thoughts? Continue reading Honey Ko Video Ad
Originally posted on Ana Linden:
“Help yourself. You still smoke?” Pointless question, stating the obvious, so it would fill the air between them… He tilted his head apologetically and smiled back, that embarrassed half a smile of his, when she’d catch him doing something she didn’t approve of and she’d point it out. He lit up and inhaled deeply, turning to ashes a good portion… Continue reading Frames – Trespasser (Sample Fragment 1)
I was but a boy of seventeen, Still wet behind the ears When I waved goodbye to mom and dad And manned up against the tears Twas then my first time on my own Not counting Camp Hiawatha I knew no one on the Greyhound bus As we rolled south out of Tampa The ride was long into Miami The motel sure wasn’t home But … Continue reading My Dear Sweet Lady
Nailed it! Continue reading Social Distancing 101
Writing a novel is easy. Marketing a novel is hard, especially when you’re not fond of selling yourself or trying to get a stranger to buy a product. It’s a special type of person who not only enjoys enticing people to buy their products, but who can also smile in the face of rejection. I disliked going door-to-door as a young boy and selling things. … Continue reading Self-Marketing a Self-Published Novel
Away the wood, I walked on Granite Shore Pounding waves, like knuckles rapped upon a door Lobster boat, weather-worn in winds that tore And red-faced men, like fishermen of yore Whose raw ripped flesh labored evermore To work the sea that swept the granite shore Continue reading The Frog and the Granite Shore, Part III
Each Movement Measured Note by Note Continue reading The Melody of Your Soul II
There are stages of love as well as grief. I suspect more people know the stages of grief: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance. Few people understand that love has stages as well: infatuation, passion, routine (or restless), partnership, companionship. If grief comes about through loss of loved one, where does love come in? Love comes with loss of self, meaning love causes self to become … Continue reading On Love and Self
Nighttime. Lights out. Darkened ship. Sitting on a bollard in the catwalk. Surrounded by the Pacific Ocean. Miles below, ships of exploration and discovery, of war and peace, ships of commerce and pleasure, luxury and poverty, abandoned to the deep by the souls that manned them, destroyed by wind and wave and battle. Men and women, just like me, a’rest at sea. From tools of … Continue reading A’rest At Sea
First posted in October 2014. I flew from you last night, Reluctant, bound to her despite The dimming of the light That lies, and die vows of troth and love. Joy hastened sweep of hand, Relentless, bound to her demand And damning of the band That lies, and die vows of troth and love. Miles increase my desire, Reliant, bound to her cold ire … Continue reading I Flew From You Last Night
Happy Mother’s Day to my mom, Margery Lucille Gillard, and to all the moms– neighborhood, church, school, little league, Air Force–who raised me. I am a little piece of each of you. Continue reading Moms, All of Them
My family invaded Holland in June, 1964. I have heard that The Beatles invaded America that year, too, but I had no idea who they were and probably would not have cared had I known. At four years old, I cared only for the ice cream freezer in the lobby of the old hotel we took rooms in, the cheese-man and his horse, the walk-in … Continue reading Huis Ter Heide
The truest test of patience is waiting for the pizza to arrive… (it’s here 🙂 ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ Continue reading Patience
Even the Navy knows good grammar rules. I pulled this from the Navy Correspondence Manual at work. Continue reading Aaaaaargghhhh, Matey. Write Tight or I’ll Keelhaul Ye.
I tried to take rubbings of his tattoos-the hula girl, the palm trees, the sailing ship, the crossed cannons, the anchor. The hula girl danced for me when he flexed his forearm. He never told me where he’d got them. He was in the war when he was eighteen, and he was an old man when he came home at twenty. His ships pulled into … Continue reading Tattoos – A Poem
I grew up with Zebco 202’s and caught quite a few bluegill, shiner, and catfish with Billy and Eddie in the pond next door. I even snagged a gator once but that was nothing compared to the nasty snapping turtle that tried to take his wrath out on my fingers. But I always preferred my bamboo fishing pole with the line tied to the tip, … Continue reading The Bamboo Fishing Pole
I love ramen. I could eat it every day. My wife is Japanese but that isn’t why I love ramen. Her mother was a wonderful cook, but she isn’t the reason I love ramen either. Her dad was born in Honolulu to immigrant parents. Nor he or they. They worked in the pineapple fields and later cut sugar cane. Mr. Ono was a WWII hero … Continue reading Ramen
Is it just me, or have you noticed Follow buttons have disappeared. Normally the button appears either int he upper right hand corner, lower right hand corner, or if in Reader on the left where it shows the site name and number of followers. Am I crazy, over overcaffeinated, or going crosseyed? Continue reading Follow Buttons Missing?
Get up, get out, go back to him Do it now it’s sink or swim I am not the one you want You’re just tired of the hunt It was all a mistake, I see it clear What looked like love was only fear Of going out on my own, alone, I let you put me on a throne You stick to me like dried … Continue reading Get Up, Get Out, Go Back To Him
Birthed in promises unspoken, on a bed of dreams and ghosts, I grasped the pleading in his heart, but faltered at the post; Desperation’s embattled prayer in a father’s grasp for fate, For all of that I could have done it’s too little and too late. Hiding from the ancient child weeping alone inside my head, Looking down at no one, looking up at those … Continue reading Fathers and Sons
On the flight deck, broiling hot sun, bright blue sky, blue sea, whitecaps throwing spindrift with the wind, another day in the Persian Gulf during Operation Iraqi Freedom, I’m standing between eighty thousand pounds of Hornet and sixty thousand pounds of thrust at full throttle, two fighter aircraft held back against their will, straining to break free, to pierce the sky, my head on a … Continue reading The Roof
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