Reposted in memory of my shipmates. The Navy Hymn connects the paragraphs. An orange fireball blots the sky, a mass of white-black cloud shot through with flame. The Navy P-3 Orion yaws as the #3 engine burns and trails an undulating line of black smoke. The starboard wing folds up and shears away; with lift gone the aircraft rolls to starboard. The Orion rolls and rolls, … Continue reading Lima Charlie 85
I wish there were more moments to recall, the ones that show us naked and afraid. Instead, I recall our time together as projections of idealized portraits, retouched and photo-shopped by minds unable to bear the sharp edges and blunt-force trauma that lovers stumble through along the boulder-strewn road of romance. I don’t want to recall only the good moments but the ungood moments too, but maybe it’s better that … Continue reading Of Love and Memories
“Thank you for submitting your query for A WISHED-FOR LOVE to (this) Literary Agency for our consideration. Unfortunately, we’re going to pass at this time, as your beginning just didn’t hook us. We know you’ve put a lot of time and effort into your project, but do keep at it! The publishing industry is very subjective, so what may not work for us could be just … Continue reading We’re sorry…
I found this poignant. You need to know yourself in order to know your voice. What I mean by “finding your truth” is not of a doctrinal nature, but simply uncovering your conviction as a communicator. via Finding your Truth — beard with a blog Continue reading On Writing: Finding your Truth, from timholman, beard with a blog
This dark and deep poem from Joseph Emerson comes from the soul and brings to the surface the fears we all have about living life to the fullest without wasting a moment. I scratched and I clawed my way, several feet up intuitive, survival instincts had quickly kicked in, I punched my way through the tamped surface a ghost of a chance, that I’d let … Continue reading On Poetry: Digging in the wrong direction, by Joseph Emerson,
Such a lovely work I will read again and again. Enjoy! There will come a time when flowers bloom in the corner of minds and earth springs from fingertips as new life forms and the old withers away what a world what a beautiful today. Reblogged from Earth Eyes — G. de Suys Continue reading On Poetry; Earth Eyes, by G. de Suys
Along the beach above the waves Smoothed by time A stone; Purposeless, I suppose, No reason I could tell For stone and me to meet. Some day hence I too will lie Worn by time And weary; The query now, I suppose, The answer I think I know: In life, did purpose meet? I threw the stone into the sea Hard and far from whence … Continue reading The Journey
I wrote an essay for this blog a couple years ago about what it feels like to be a military brat and not have a hometown. Other military brats will understand what I mean. I was born in Turkey and lived in several places before Dad finally retired in Tampa. Dad was born and raised in Bradenton, Florida, Mom in Nederland, Colorado; they had hometowns. … Continue reading Hometowns
Just a quick check-in to say hi and apologize for my inattention to your posts. I love your work and take something away from every post I read. Your words and writing inspire me and lead me to aspire to write better. My absence is not without purpose: I’m engrossed in editing my novel, A Wished-For Love, and I’m zooming right along. I feel like … Continue reading Writing is Eternal Life
When I was twelve or so, Dad told me to get off my derrière and earn some money. So, I started pushing the lawn mower around the neighborhood. Thankfully, since we had a corner lot, he’d bought one of those new fangled self-propelled machines. It made it easier, but no less tedious, to mow that forty thousand acre yard in the hot Tampa summer. And … Continue reading Tampa Boy’s First Job
This is a sort of stream-of-consciousness essay. I’m pretty sentimental. Forgive the errors; I’m posting just as I posted it elsewhere. Mr. Linares tried his best to make me enjoy vocational drafting at Tampa Tech, but I hated it and joined the Navy instead. I worked on Navy aircraft for thirty years, both enlisted man and officer. I was stationed on Diego Garcia in the … Continue reading Tampa Boy
Rest In Peace 12 Dec 2017 Operation Freedom’s Sentinel. Staff Sgt. David Thomas Brabander, 24, of Anchorage, Alaska, died Dec. 11 in Nangarhar Province, Afghanistan, as a result of a non-combat related incident. He was assigned to 3rd Battalion, 509th Infantry Regiment, 4th Infantry Brigade Combat Team (Airborne), 25th Infantry Division, U.S. Army Alaska, Joint Base Elmendorf-Richardson, Alaska. 27 Nov 2017 Operation Inherent Resolve. Cpl. … Continue reading Servicemembers We Lost in 2017
What I fear most when I appear at the gates of Heaven is a question: “My son, why did you kill the sparrow?” I raised my BB gun and aimed; At the end of the cold steel barrel sat the sparrow singing its song of joy, and happiness, and innocence; I pulled the trigger and let fly the BB; The golden pellet raced through the … Continue reading The Question
When the magic dies and the fruit skin dries and curls; When one face looks like another, and you stop calling your lover; When you look for answers but your lips can’t voice the questions; And the one you loved leaves you to fight yourself without Her; And you wander in the desert of temptation not noticing the pleasures; And numbness covers you in a … Continue reading Eve, In The Garden Of Desire
I praise you I praise you Let me lie beside you Let me lie beside you I hear the song of your spirit in the wind soughing past my ear; I smell the scent that fills me in the rose that is the vessel and the blessed fragrance in your smile. Your hair is trimmed in golden like the leaves within the Bible, and I … Continue reading I Praise You
Enchanted by the stars, like smelling roses, Anticipating the rush of a meteor flash Or Saturn’s rings in full-on view and Europa, Like Andromeda’s spiral, in ageless lights of time, And my heart pumps a million times a minute When sun bids day adieu amidst a host of glory, And that spinning dance and flash of white That reveals your teeth in brilliant, ecstatic smile … Continue reading Every Night With You
Spurned When Spring’s hope fills the air, the rose opens with grace and a fragrant sigh. Warm flesh greets ice-cold metal and gives way to metal’s pointed sting. The space between heartbeats is silent but my ears ring with a terrible din. Crystal speckles dot the space between my eyes and the hardness before me. In Winter, the rose retreats into itself to await the … Continue reading Spurned
Ripples in a pond fretting amid damp earth’s fragrance whose deep-anchored tendrils curl around and around and up and up to caress and nurture. Focused on the footpath. Rigid muscles and throbbing temples. Panting. Impeding scales fall away as sunlight breaks through a misty veil of sweat. Pause. Beyond the trees a beckoning forest and a horizon, and mountains soften into hills. Renewal. Gaining the horizon. Footpath … Continue reading Fretting
Reblogged from Anna Dobritt – Author A Writer’s Perspective on Reading Yes, I am a writer. I love to write. I love making up stories about unusual pictures such as abandoned buildings, foggy forests, ravens, and writing prompts. I’m even learning to write short personal essays, which are hard for me. However, I am also a reader. If I could figure […] via A Writer’s Perspective … Continue reading On Writing: A Writer’s Perspective on Reading — by Anna Dobritt — Author
I come to Fox Island to meditate, to reflect, to gaze across the sea until the hypnotic sound and motion of sea and wind and crashing wave become a lyric in the song of the universe. The worldly presence of the granite beneath my bottom, the salt air, and the pungent odor of decaying sea-wrack give way to the etheriality of thought and I wander … Continue reading Rebirth
Pebbles underfoot rarely disturb my Tranquility. In the sole, however, they breach Peace of mind and break my stride. Walking awkwardly, I alternately Lift my leg to shake the pebble Loose and take a stumbling step. I must appear rather silly to Those with well-sealed soles. Continue reading Trifles
I Thank you for your service, Dad! John William Pennington 1926-1994 US Navy 1943-1947 USAF 1952-1968 World War II, Iwo Jima, Okinawa Korea Vietnam How much more could one man give for his Country? Continue reading Service
Myth. Time is a myth. There is no time. When I’m with you Time stands still. Time with you is timeless. But how to communicate The absence of time, The fact of us? I. You. We. One. You are my life, My forever, My sun. I am your moon. You hold me in your orbit. You are my Center. My Universe. My Infinity. You are … Continue reading Your Breath Revive Me
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 oppression not yet witnessed in … Continue reading 1984 Redux
I cut a rose and placed it in a vase. The room became brighter and fresher. The sentence didn’t read right. A different word gave the story new meaning. A boy fell into an epileptic fit. Ignored, until another boy placed a stick between his teeth. The weight of the world breaks my heart. I push the dark away and bask in the warmth of … Continue reading Small Gestures
I feel so much satisfaction watching the word count grow in the little story flowing from my pen. This joyful enterprise, this crafting of a universe built from memories of a lifetime. This imaginary world I have peopled with those I’ve grown up with, played, schooled, worshiped, worked, and served with. Decorated with scenes that have thrilled my eyes and my mind and lifted my … Continue reading My Little Story
I knew you had something on your mind When you had nothing much to say; When you spoke I could feel the worry, You nearly lost your way; I read the breath between your words For what I hoped I wouldn’t find; There’s always something left unsaid When we’re trying not to be unkind. I searched the places in your head Where you run from … Continue reading The Breath Between Her Words
An attempt at light, airy lyrics. Hum it to any tune you please, then let me know if it makes you smile 🙂 I was passing by O’Grady’s When you saw me in your glass You smiled without turning And I skipped a little dance You pretended not to notice But you still laughed anyway And I made myself a promise To pass there every … Continue reading My Better Half
In the middle of the beginning of the days of my youth I found you In the moments of the hours of my days when time didn’t matter You took me In the space between the time when caught breath was a whisper I came alive Just a sigh Just a cry Just a why Is all I have of you Nothing mattered then for … Continue reading When Breath Was a Whisper
Your heart is a sheet of cold, thin ice; Spider cracks zigzag among open veins; Eggshells scatter before my footsteps; On my toes, I step between the cracks and crush the eggshells with my heels. I peel away onionskin layers of you; Vaporous particles explode into my eyes; They stick to fingers and leave them numb; With steel razor taut in my fist, I scrape … Continue reading Mornings, A Halloween Tale
The rain is come, the day is drear, I must be dreaming of you dear; It’s days like this, I treasure most, Floating echoes of my restless host. When we met, I found my muse, Sheltered by whispered I love you’s; Shrinking from, the spilling clouds, I pulled you from the phobic crowds. Purposeless, and aimless thought, In my arms your love is caught; Your … Continue reading My Restless Muse
Admit it, you love to edit, don’t you? I can see you now as you read through your printed manuscript, coffee cup in one hand, yummy croissant in the other, eyes whizzing left to right as you enter the world of magic you pulled from your storyteller’s mind. Raindrops catch your attention as they patter against the window and merge into a sheet of water … Continue reading On Editing
She’s the girl with the curls, And a face with a sneer on her lips, And when she comes near, You tremble in fear Of the threat in the swing of her hips. She’s the fun in the sun, With trouble in the song on her tongue, And when she comes along, You feel so wrong, When you notice how pretty and young. She’s that … Continue reading She’s that Girl
Well, I pitched to five agents during the SavvyAuthors September Pitch Fest. All five shot me down. Between them, they must have received over a thousand pitches. Some writers pitched to all of the agents (there were publishing house editors too, but I didn’t pitch to them). Out of the ninety requests from those agents for full or partial manuscripts, I was not one of … Continue reading Practiced, Pitched, Punched
“Two dead women, a death in Vietnam, and an infant hastily given up for adoption stand between Aida and marriage to Tom, the man of her dreams.” This is the pitch I’m using in the pitch event over at SavvyAuthors blog. The Pitch Event runs through midnight 17 September. You may pitch to both agents and publishers. Continue reading Critique My Pitch: Part Four, A Wished-For Love
“Decades after their tragic deaths, two women haunt the lives of two men broken by grief and a hasty adoption. One of the men finally comes to terms with his loss and finds love again. One cannot.” I didn’t provide a description of my story in previous posts, so I’ve added one here to help you critique my pitch. You’ll note there are two Susannas. … Continue reading Critique My Pitch, Part Three: A Wished-For Love
“Two dead women stand between Aida and marriage to Tom, the man of her dreams.” Thank you to everyone who commented on my original pitch. This is my latest draft. Comments and suggestions welcome! Continue reading Critique My Pitch, Part Two: A Wished-For Love
Critique this! Does this query pitch pique your interest? “Crippled with grief after his fiancée’s death, Tom Nelson shuns love lest he betray Susanna’s memory. When he meets Aida, he finds love again, but will Susanna let him go?” Continue reading Critique My Pitch: A Wished-For Love
In the café, two tables away sat the woman Of my dreams, occupied reading a book; Silhouette in black, turning dog-eared leaves; I noted the dip of Cupid’s Bow, The gentle curve of her nose; The graceful line of her neck made My pulse beat double-quick; Leaning in, one elbow on the table, She lifted her coffee cup. I felt his eyes as I sipped … Continue reading Café of Nerves
Maine Street, and the town gazebo sits empty in the dark; The tower of the old parish church rises like my heart Above the ancient pines that line the lone road home; The college, whose yellow light-filled windows reflect The yearning of the young for the wisdom of the old, is quiet; Bowdoin Chapel tolls the hour and my watch softly chimes The same as … Continue reading The Gazebo
Swish, swish, swish, her tail sweeps the air, Shining eyes, she crouches there. Arcing high, the ball flies up, Leaping now, my flying pup. She takes the ball, prances ‘round, Twinkle toes, not earthbound. Come here, girl! but, oh, not she, Away, away, chase after me! Faster, farther, prancing still, She smiles at me, such a pill. Lets me near, then lies down, I come … Continue reading Mai Lee
I thought until death do us part meant one of us would cry At the loneliness we’d feel when our lover had just died; I never thought it meant that the love we shared might fly, That you’d run away from me instead of walking by my side. I thought that love and marriage meant forever and a day; How could I have known your … Continue reading Love Lost
Reposted from 2015 My mind is soothed by the sight of the sea, and the sound of her waves breaking upon the ancient, granite bones of this world. My skin is caressed with a blanket of fragrance laid upon me by the smells of the sea. The call of the deep tugs at my heart and beckons, “Listen to my voice.” I am terrified by … Continue reading The Sea and Me
Playfully, we spoke the words, “until death do us part,” She laughed, and her smile tugged at my heart, Will you love me in sickness and in health, she asked, Yes, my love, will you love me in poverty and in wealth? Of course, she said, her head tilted to one side, I’ll love you, you know, beyond the end of time; She turned her … Continue reading Susanna XI
I lose hope when I spend too much time reading the news. I despair of mankind living in peace and harmony. I despair of the world we are leaving our grandchildren. I gain hope and confidence when I turn off the news. I walk outside and see a world bigger than our differences. My spirits lift and soar when I walk among people and the … Continue reading Apples
I’m not a fan of monopolies no matter how convenient they make shopping, or how cheap they can sell products. Progress is good in many ways, but the easier it is to do things from a computer – shopping – the less time we spend interacting with others. It’s the same dilemma we find ourselves facing with cell phones. The computer and cell phone are … Continue reading Convenience
I can’t count the times I’ve been asked by a writer to provide “an honest” critique or review of his work. Invariably, I think to myself, “What? I’m going to give you a dishonest review? I’m going to lie to you?” I think what they mean is they don’t want me to spare their feelings. I never ask for an honest critique. Last month, I … Continue reading A Wished-For Love, Second Beta Review
I read constantly that editing is hard. No. Editing is not hard. Writing is hard. Editing is tedious. Excruciatingly boring. Gut-wrenchingly, the-sun-is-shining-for-the-first-time-in-weeks, birds-are-singing, optimism-is-everywhere, but-I’m-stuck-behind-this-desk-in-pursuit-of-my-laudable-goal, boring. Oh, look; Gone With the Wind is on TV! Oh, oh, oh! A Gilligan’s Island rerun marathon! Continue reading Editing — A Wished-For Love
I apologize if the new title for my writing posts makes you hungry. I cannot stop thinking of Rice Crispies; does any cereal hold more sugar? As a ten-year old boy, I reached for unsweetened cereal in the cupboard. I wanted to choose the amount of sugar on my own. Some cereals tantalized my tongue with lots of added sugar, while others were delicious with … Continue reading Write Crisp – Word Choice
So, there I was, reading calmkate’s response to today’s Daily Prompt, Crisp, and, as is my wont, pondering ways to submit an outside-the-box response of my own. That led to a headache which made me stop thinking and make some tea (Stash brand Licorice Spice, BTW). Two tea bag tea, too (yeah, I know, but I drink tea out of a huge coffee mug). Writing … Continue reading Write Tight? Or Write Crisp?
The Writings of William C. Pennington 