Walking the plank
down the isle
of life
wedded to a
dream
of expectation
and "safeness"
I embark upon
a journey
of immeasurable
hazards--
sand traps all
over the place
with my errant
ball going toward
the flag of desire.
When is a guarantee
honored?
When there isn't one
to begin with.
Oops...forgot to
sign on the dotted line.
So, I'm free to fail.
No guarantees.
Free to succeed, also.
Still no guarantees.
Life's a big crap shoot
at this point.
Sometimes you win
and you got it...
Sometimes you lose.
Loss isn't always
"bad".
Sometimes gains
take losses to
materialize them.
You can take 3 steps
at one time if you
stretch it but
trying to take
them all at once
may cause you
to doubt your
abilities of human
tolerance.
Go ahead. See how
many steps you
can take at once.
I guess it depends
whether you're
going up or
down the steps
how big a risk
you'll be willing
to attempt.
Copyright © 2012 by Gary Frates
Saturday, December 29, 2012
Thursday, December 27, 2012
Writing Poetry
Mucky--That's what my mind often feels like when I sit down to write especially when I don't have a burning desire to impart some inspiration upon the paper/screen.
Then, as I travel along the page, ideas begin to blossom. Some hit a dead end and no matter how I try to develop it into what I'm writing, it just doesn't
want to fit or it casts a dark shadow on what is predominately an upbeat message.
So a lot of things get deleted. All in the process of two steps forward one back--still moving forward but
not as smoothly and swiftly as if inspiration came like a strike of lightning and all the words just rolled off my tongue onto the screen effortlessly and easily with very few corrections.
I used to write poetry long hand on physical paper. Well, as I soon found out, when I went back over them for submission to a friendly editor who was encouraging me to journal and write poems everyday, some were o.k., some I really liked, and some didn't even come close to making the cut to send off to anybody.
The o.k. ones I labeled "maybe" hoping that somehow they would improve with age, or my critical function would come down a few notches and I would accept them as "good"--valuable to send to somebody.
One time I wrote a page of aphorism-like one liners. Since I kind of liked them but they weren't really poems, which he requested, I sent them in anyway with some other poems. He liked the aphorisms and wanted to use them in his newspaper!
With the computer, I usually don't do a thumbs down to anything. Instead I edit and rewrite and rearrange until I have something acceptable that I like.
Somehow, when I wrote with a pen in hand, I could retrieve ideas fast enough to do something that I liked the first time, and I never touched the poem after that.
Either it was good, or I tossed it. It took practice to write by hand and then in those days-type it up on a typewriter--is anybody old enough to remember those? and send it in, as is.
With the computer, a whole different style of writing has emerged. It's sort of like dropping a vase from a ten story building, picking up the pieces, gluing it back together and pretending it's new. Who's going to know, right?
In a way, I'd like to go back to hand writing first and then typing it up as a regular routine. It's more inspired and spontaneous.
I don't really know which one I prefer. Whether I'd have to relearn how to do it the old way as efficiently as now--only typing and writing it once, but with many revisions.
I'm still glad I have choices in life, even if I don't exactly know which way to go most of the time!
Then, as I travel along the page, ideas begin to blossom. Some hit a dead end and no matter how I try to develop it into what I'm writing, it just doesn't
want to fit or it casts a dark shadow on what is predominately an upbeat message.
So a lot of things get deleted. All in the process of two steps forward one back--still moving forward but
not as smoothly and swiftly as if inspiration came like a strike of lightning and all the words just rolled off my tongue onto the screen effortlessly and easily with very few corrections.
I used to write poetry long hand on physical paper. Well, as I soon found out, when I went back over them for submission to a friendly editor who was encouraging me to journal and write poems everyday, some were o.k., some I really liked, and some didn't even come close to making the cut to send off to anybody.
The o.k. ones I labeled "maybe" hoping that somehow they would improve with age, or my critical function would come down a few notches and I would accept them as "good"--valuable to send to somebody.
One time I wrote a page of aphorism-like one liners. Since I kind of liked them but they weren't really poems, which he requested, I sent them in anyway with some other poems. He liked the aphorisms and wanted to use them in his newspaper!
With the computer, I usually don't do a thumbs down to anything. Instead I edit and rewrite and rearrange until I have something acceptable that I like.
Somehow, when I wrote with a pen in hand, I could retrieve ideas fast enough to do something that I liked the first time, and I never touched the poem after that.
Either it was good, or I tossed it. It took practice to write by hand and then in those days-type it up on a typewriter--is anybody old enough to remember those? and send it in, as is.
With the computer, a whole different style of writing has emerged. It's sort of like dropping a vase from a ten story building, picking up the pieces, gluing it back together and pretending it's new. Who's going to know, right?
In a way, I'd like to go back to hand writing first and then typing it up as a regular routine. It's more inspired and spontaneous.
I don't really know which one I prefer. Whether I'd have to relearn how to do it the old way as efficiently as now--only typing and writing it once, but with many revisions.
I'm still glad I have choices in life, even if I don't exactly know which way to go most of the time!
Outside Nature Beckons
Outside
is where it's at
in Wintertime.
Cool, light air
entices our lungs
to open themselves
fully and deeply
savoring the fresh
crisp, aliveness
of natural air
as we feel
the warming
rays of the sun
on our exposed
face and hands-
all free
for the taking.
Creatures also
take advantage
of the
hospitable
enticements
nature affords.
Birds, rabbits,
squirrels all
claim heritage
to a beautiful
sunny day
out of their
homes.
No nest sitting
or holing up
for them.
They're out
and about.
They've
places to go,
others
of their kind
to hang, fly,
run, and
play with.
Wherever
they slept
is not where
they are
in the middle
of the day.
Copyright © 2012 Gary Frates
is where it's at
in Wintertime.
Cool, light air
entices our lungs
to open themselves
fully and deeply
savoring the fresh
crisp, aliveness
of natural air
as we feel
the warming
rays of the sun
on our exposed
face and hands-
all free
for the taking.
Creatures also
take advantage
of the
hospitable
enticements
nature affords.
Birds, rabbits,
squirrels all
claim heritage
to a beautiful
sunny day
out of their
homes.
No nest sitting
or holing up
for them.
They're out
and about.
They've
places to go,
others
of their kind
to hang, fly,
run, and
play with.
Wherever
they slept
is not where
they are
in the middle
of the day.
Copyright © 2012 Gary Frates
Wednesday, December 26, 2012
Love the light
The moon
is becoming
full again.
The days
harboring
more light.
The whole
world
is on an
enlightening
rampage
of reform,
I'm feeling.
Winter darkness
is cycling out
giving way
to the fruitfulness
of Spring.
"It's time to play!"
I shout
as we go through
our serious
adult concerns.
What reprehensible
irresponsibility,
you counter.
How are
others supposed
to take you seriously-
not attending to duty-
playing and
having fun at work!?
Make way.
I'm coming through.
It's a new year
and a new,
enlightening age
and
I'm carrying my light
no matter what,
not to be extinguished.
If it's not fun
I'm not doing it!
is
and has been
my motto
lately.
People sometimes
hear me whisper
under my breath,
but just loud enough
for them to hear:
"This is NOT fun!"
as they look up
from their about
to be changing
behavior
or one of us
is leaving the other.
So let's try and
get along
cheering
each other on
into the light of
a new day
a new year
and a new age.
Copyright © 2012 Gary Frates
is becoming
full again.
The days
harboring
more light.
The whole
world
is on an
enlightening
rampage
of reform,
I'm feeling.
Winter darkness
is cycling out
giving way
to the fruitfulness
of Spring.
"It's time to play!"
I shout
as we go through
our serious
adult concerns.
What reprehensible
irresponsibility,
you counter.
How are
others supposed
to take you seriously-
not attending to duty-
playing and
having fun at work!?
Make way.
I'm coming through.
It's a new year
and a new,
enlightening age
and
I'm carrying my light
no matter what,
not to be extinguished.
If it's not fun
I'm not doing it!
is
and has been
my motto
lately.
People sometimes
hear me whisper
under my breath,
but just loud enough
for them to hear:
"This is NOT fun!"
as they look up
from their about
to be changing
behavior
or one of us
is leaving the other.
So let's try and
get along
cheering
each other on
into the light of
a new day
a new year
and a new age.
Copyright © 2012 Gary Frates
Tuesday, December 25, 2012
A run
I ran today-
20 min.
Made me late
for Christmas dinner
but was entirely
worth it.
Like the Tin Man
without oil: running
loosened me up,
warmed me up,
got my blood
to flowing and
my breath
moving again
vigorously
in and out-
started my
bodily engines
ones that would have
remained dormant
and idling
to a revved up state
and streaming again
with life.
Such a short
ritual leveraging
such
immense returns.
I love running
in the clear
quiet
Winter air
alone
with my thoughts
and
Nature's company-
what's left of her
between storms.
Even most
of the animals
seemed
hunkered down
and riding out
the inclement
weather.
Still...
I had my renewal
of body, mind and spirit.
Copyright © 2012 Gary Frates
20 min.
Made me late
for Christmas dinner
but was entirely
worth it.
Like the Tin Man
without oil: running
loosened me up,
warmed me up,
got my blood
to flowing and
my breath
moving again
vigorously
in and out-
started my
bodily engines
ones that would have
remained dormant
and idling
to a revved up state
and streaming again
with life.
Such a short
ritual leveraging
such
immense returns.
I love running
in the clear
quiet
Winter air
alone
with my thoughts
and
Nature's company-
what's left of her
between storms.
Even most
of the animals
seemed
hunkered down
and riding out
the inclement
weather.
Still...
I had my renewal
of body, mind and spirit.
Copyright © 2012 Gary Frates
Sunday, December 23, 2012
A little rain
Now I know what procrastination feels like. I usually don't have a problem getting started but I found myself looking at this blank page, my mind wandering from thought to thought-looking at the rain outside wondering how I feel about it, knowing I am more an outdoor person than most people, loving the woods and fields next to my house willing to brave any weather-almost-to encounter their solitude and solace for the soul.
So realizing this, I began--anywhere--and the flow started. It's easier to keep going once you're started (writing-or anything!)--the momentum carries you onward so you don't get frozen to one spot if you stop too long.
I love the rain--it's when it goes on for weeks at a time that it gets old--and there have been times like that, but you look for a spot of respite to sneak out and get your fresh air and exercise in before the next downpour. Sometimes when worst comes to worst, I happily go running in the rain and come back soaking wet, wring out my clothes and hang them somewhere out of the way to drip dry , smirking at my accomplishment, not to be stopped by a little obstacle or seeming obstacle or inconvenience.
I love the sound of the rain hitting down on all the noisy objects outside, the sound of the wind blowing at my sturdy house, which inside of I feel comfy and protected--an island of peace usually, to contemplate the rest and sounds of nature. Soon, I will get restless, knowing there is too much of value out my front door and into the fields to keep me inside for long. My mind, my brain, whatever it is that thinks, needs airing and refreshing electron charged air usually does a good job of that in lieu of the bright sunshine I mostly experience on my walks/runs.
So realizing this, I began--anywhere--and the flow started. It's easier to keep going once you're started (writing-or anything!)--the momentum carries you onward so you don't get frozen to one spot if you stop too long.
I love the rain--it's when it goes on for weeks at a time that it gets old--and there have been times like that, but you look for a spot of respite to sneak out and get your fresh air and exercise in before the next downpour. Sometimes when worst comes to worst, I happily go running in the rain and come back soaking wet, wring out my clothes and hang them somewhere out of the way to drip dry , smirking at my accomplishment, not to be stopped by a little obstacle or seeming obstacle or inconvenience.
I love the sound of the rain hitting down on all the noisy objects outside, the sound of the wind blowing at my sturdy house, which inside of I feel comfy and protected--an island of peace usually, to contemplate the rest and sounds of nature. Soon, I will get restless, knowing there is too much of value out my front door and into the fields to keep me inside for long. My mind, my brain, whatever it is that thinks, needs airing and refreshing electron charged air usually does a good job of that in lieu of the bright sunshine I mostly experience on my walks/runs.
A little romp through the woods
Had a feeling I wanted to write something but didn't know what. Had a few ideas I thought I wanted to explore but I think I'd rather take a more rambling approach until something more concrete and focused appears.
I want this to be readable doesn't have to be polished but I don't want to write for a certain response from
someone else. I really want to write because it's fun. The fun of creation. I know what that feels like in my gut when I connect to a creative idea and express it fairly well. I say (to myself) ah! that's a bit of clarity that I was looking for in this muddy pot or that's what I wanted to say even though I didn't know what it was until the very moment I said it on paper.
So at this rate I could keep going without a real focus to this piece of writing but that would be o.k. too. I wanted to not miss the opportunity to wish my brother a Merry Christmas but it seemed so trite and unmeaningful just to sort of fulfill a "social obligation" and leave it at that. I really yearn for closer contact with him but the internet is so impersonal which is what our contact has been recently. Something will feel right when it's time. That's my way of letting go of a situation or "problem" that I cannot figure out a good answer to or even a plan for it's solution if not now in the future even it that changes when the future arrives.
I actually have a ton of those situations I'd like certainty and resolution on now if not yesterday because unfinished work really bugs me.
I try to have a flow in my life so that things roll off my assembly line easily and in some kind of orderly, efficient way. That does happen more and more so these days as I listen to my intuitional sense that can organize better than I can. Only thing is I have to trust it's going to work out following its sort of blind guidance because I have no idea where it's taking me most times and if I try to argue with it and strong arm my logical usually playing it much more safely approach, I get a big or little lesson on letting go of the forcing my life out through a pin hole as opposed to opening up the gates of ease to carry me through to a successful and satisfactory if not exemplary conclusion.
I kind of like rambling like this but since it's late and my batteries are running down--not that I wouldn't love to continue this to see what might materialize mined from the depths of my consciousness and being--I'm not sure what my most productive writing times are but evenings usually get me to writing but end of the day seems not as freshly inspired as earlier on but now that vacation break is here I may have more time to contribute posts to my blog.
I want this to be readable doesn't have to be polished but I don't want to write for a certain response from
someone else. I really want to write because it's fun. The fun of creation. I know what that feels like in my gut when I connect to a creative idea and express it fairly well. I say (to myself) ah! that's a bit of clarity that I was looking for in this muddy pot or that's what I wanted to say even though I didn't know what it was until the very moment I said it on paper.
So at this rate I could keep going without a real focus to this piece of writing but that would be o.k. too. I wanted to not miss the opportunity to wish my brother a Merry Christmas but it seemed so trite and unmeaningful just to sort of fulfill a "social obligation" and leave it at that. I really yearn for closer contact with him but the internet is so impersonal which is what our contact has been recently. Something will feel right when it's time. That's my way of letting go of a situation or "problem" that I cannot figure out a good answer to or even a plan for it's solution if not now in the future even it that changes when the future arrives.
I actually have a ton of those situations I'd like certainty and resolution on now if not yesterday because unfinished work really bugs me.
I try to have a flow in my life so that things roll off my assembly line easily and in some kind of orderly, efficient way. That does happen more and more so these days as I listen to my intuitional sense that can organize better than I can. Only thing is I have to trust it's going to work out following its sort of blind guidance because I have no idea where it's taking me most times and if I try to argue with it and strong arm my logical usually playing it much more safely approach, I get a big or little lesson on letting go of the forcing my life out through a pin hole as opposed to opening up the gates of ease to carry me through to a successful and satisfactory if not exemplary conclusion.
I kind of like rambling like this but since it's late and my batteries are running down--not that I wouldn't love to continue this to see what might materialize mined from the depths of my consciousness and being--I'm not sure what my most productive writing times are but evenings usually get me to writing but end of the day seems not as freshly inspired as earlier on but now that vacation break is here I may have more time to contribute posts to my blog.
Monday, December 17, 2012
Dancing with our Emotions
Going forward,
doing anything
requires
awareness,
resourcefulness.
Often
you encounter
such new and
uncharted territory
that constant
course correction
consumes
your energy,
while on an
unproductive tack
because attention
is absent.
You may soften,
unexpectedly
a hard stance
from someone's
response to you,
just being yourself.
You had no idea,
you were taken
by such surprise!
Being aware
of the outer
as well as the inner,
simultaneously
takes some practice,
I am finding.
It's easier to ignore
the inner, it seems.
Sort of what
we've always done--
not listening to
that voice
that is wiser
than the wisest--
while blundering
two-left-footed
awkwardly onward.
Such an adventure--
to follow two brains
at once--
the one in our head
and
the one in our gut.
Copyright © 2012 Gary Frates
doing anything
requires
awareness,
resourcefulness.
Often
you encounter
such new and
uncharted territory
that constant
course correction
consumes
your energy,
while on an
unproductive tack
because attention
is absent.
You may soften,
unexpectedly
a hard stance
from someone's
response to you,
just being yourself.
You had no idea,
you were taken
by such surprise!
Being aware
of the outer
as well as the inner,
simultaneously
takes some practice,
I am finding.
It's easier to ignore
the inner, it seems.
Sort of what
we've always done--
not listening to
that voice
that is wiser
than the wisest--
while blundering
two-left-footed
awkwardly onward.
Such an adventure--
to follow two brains
at once--
the one in our head
and
the one in our gut.
Copyright © 2012 Gary Frates
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