Most idle minds will find something to occupy their time like rock climbing, hang gliding, running marathons, sex, drugs, rock n roll, drinking, cooking, baking, T.V. watching, and creative writing....
God help the mind that chooses the latter!
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About my creative writing... well, I'd been a closet writer for nearly my entire life (at least 35+ years). I always had visions that some day I would take that daring leap forward and present it to others, including my family. Yes, I even withheld it from them for many, many years. My vision certainly didn't entail my work being presented to the world as this approach potentially does. However, I hope to reach some sort of audience out there somewhere over the rainbow. I guess it’s time to come out of the writer's dungeon and see if there is a magical audience for my life's work.
I consider myself a creative writer, a novelist, a poet, and a typical, will-write-anything-for-any-reason, type of writer. I do not have a specific genre and I truly let the pen (proverbial) go wherever my mind takes it. I never seem to get writer's block, but I do tend to get lazy when it comes to finishing my creative writing works. Before, I would always let work, life, and play get in the road of my creative writing. That was probably because of the fear of failing and worse than that--the greater fear of succeeding.
For the last few years I've done my best to focus on it and make it one of the greater priorities in my life. This focus has helped me finish some of my long term epic novels. All of which are still far from the goal of being published, but for the most part they are completed (rough drafts that are somewhat "polished"). I'm in no great rush to be a published author because I just enjoy writing. Especially as much as I've been able to do it since I became semi-retired in late 2013. For all of what I’ve mentioned and what you see on these web pages I can’t thank my overly supportive wife enough. All the sacrifices she's made to help make this happen is beyond belief. Thank you, thank you, thank you, I love you and I hope that someday it will clearly show that it’s all been worth your/our sacrifices. If not, then that's okay because I can say with great pride that we took a stab at my craziest dream and found an audience for my work. If that is only a single person or a trillion, either scenario is pretty cool to me...
Short stint as a train conductor 2013
On this page you will find some of my work, mostly creative writing in the form of poetry or literature. The poems and stories have either been submitted for publication to literary magazines (online or print), entered into competitions, or other similar scenarios. I will try to ensure this information is reasonably kept up to date as well as inform you what pieces were rejected or accepted for publication. I hope you find some of the reading enjoyable, thought provoking, or at least engaging. I'd love to hear your feedback on anything you chose to read, no matter if it is good, bad, or in between. Your time is extremely valuable and I understand that better than you can imagine. With that said, I can't thank you enough for taking an interest in my work.
A Grubby Life...
THE ROGUE'S RIVER
Where do you come from?
You’re here in front of me
Your music isn’t like the drum
The path you’ve made is to the sea
Cool and calm as an icy frond
The land drinks your liquid breeze
We both know you don’t abscond
From the trees shaking their leaves
If only I could have your conviction
And the life that you will always lead
Had you not fought the fury of friction
You’d have never been more than a seed
Time may take its toll on everything
That you’ve ever passed along the way
There is no song we can always sing
To ensure we see the final blessed day
I come to see the inside of myself
When there’s a chance to say hello
My hoarded thoughts are on the shelf
And at these meetings you only bellow
You’re babbling is an incessant boom
That soothes my unraveling sanity
If it weren’t for our occasional gloom
I’d have lost to the crush of banality
So hear me once again my truest friend
And let my words flow down with you
Take them to the unstoppable end
Making sure they never cause their rue
by A Grubby Life
A COPSE IS BUT....
Oh you hoar tinged trees
You trees with no leaves
Your limbs and boughs are bare
Clothes the season made you spare
Their naked rapt is hard to miss
Those bared bodies are easy to kiss
A copse is solely just a copse but
Any grove is deeper than the cut
Those nude masses stand so alone
Each one single tree is on its own
Together they are a very grand race
But singularly hold an equal grace
Fear is not something they know
Sun and shower makes them grow
Man is not always their kindest friend
He hews them down for his own end
Animals are no better forest mates
Mr. beaver savors their woody tastes
The grubs and peckers hole your pith
They never stop to hear your myth
I stare and wonder at your amazing sight
Hoping you’ll be covered for the night
A blanket of snow is far, far better
As winded thunder makes it wetter
Please try to take care of yourselves
Cuz long gone are the sprightly elves
Spring will correct this grievous wrong
For I feel this winter won’t be so long
Then I’ll see you in the sweet summer sun
And your leaves are no longer free to run
by A Grubby Life
I am, am I?
Am I gone in a blink?
Like the days of youth
Do I dare to wink?
Wouldn’t that hide the truth?
Am I here to live?
Like the deer or the bear
Is this an Earthly sieve?
Meant to lose its share
Am I here to die?
Like the sick and weak
Could you help me cry?
Or scream it’s brightly bleak
Am I? I am…like everything
I’m nothing more
I’m nothing less
I was something more
I was something less
I am…am I?
by A Grubby Life
