creative blogging – sound mind journal

Six Sentence Story ~ Rodeo (a dream of another dream)

It started with a phone call at midnight in the middle of a restless dream in which he was wrestling with the monster called Rodeo.

He had to struggle up to find his mobile phone, from his makeshift sofa-bed, tripping over bundles of bared wires everywhere in his one bomb-shelled room apartment currently under DIY makeover, together with clutters of other stuff, under a power outage.

“O, where are you? show yourself,” he had lately got to a point of talking to things, breaking the silence of the monotony of moving into a solitary confined space to make a sanctuary for himself.

The ringing sound stopped at the prompting of his voice, and instead, there appeared a celestial glow at the far corner of the room, like a gigantic spray being switched on from the floor, emitting burst of lights in various colors, and shapes, casting pictures on his blank wall.

No words can describe what he saw, nor any sane man would agree that he was not seeing from his over imaginative mind.

“It cannot be real! I don’t believe it,” he uttered by default, as always a doubter, and immediately, darkness resumed, followed by a silence at the streets below his window, which usual lively and loud activities being suddenly halted, like the world had left him and gone somewhere else, but then, he heard the horses -Rodeo, the pictures on his wall just a minute ago now went alive down there, water flooded everywhere, teeming with a rodeo of monstrous sea creatures in brilliant multi-colors, beginning his dream in another dream.

2021-02-24

Simply 6 Minutes 12/29/2020: there was another life that I might have had…

“There was another life that I might have had, but I am having this one.”― Kazuo Ishiguro

He is really thankful whenever he thinks of what he has that brief season. He sometimes wishes that he has another life, a normal human life, instead of being a “man” from another world, stuck on earth in an assignment to protect earth. Of course he has never thought that he would have been involved in any relationship with any earthling.

It was really a very brief year. She appears suddenly, not for any reason. She just happens to be a fellow lodger in that mountain lodge. The locked down order comes just as suddenly without notice and they have to live with each other. Just the two strangers on a mountain of 8000 ft above sea level.

From the start, they seem to know each other. Not in names or physically close. They seem to have a supernatural encounter that morning when he arrives. She is in the kitchen. She is making a cup of coffee for herself and makes one for him.

“don’t drink that instant stuff.” She says.

He doesn’t ask why. He enjoys that freshly brew cup.

The snow comes just as suddenly as the locked down notice. To him it doesn’t matter that he doesn’t get to meet or talk to anyone in person outside except the delivery men for food and other necessities. He can still walk and hike up the mountain as his daily routine. He talks to the trees and the wind. Oh, he talks to the small people up there too. People whom she doesn’t know. He works at night and walks in the day. No, he is not restricted by any human system. He doesn’t tell her this but she somehow watches him and knows.

What does he have that he can give her? He is one of the guardians of the four winds. He operates a security system that is beyond her human knowledge. He doesn’t talk about it. One day she sits across the dining table and tells him, I know who you are. You are a kind man. Too kind.

He looks at her in his usual calm and quiet way. Yes, she is right. He is programmed not to harm. He is very kind. Too kind.

Indeed, it has been a year of grace. A year of mercy. It is worth his life on earth. He has no regrets.

Kainotes, 2020-12-29

https://christinebialczak.com/2020/12/29/simply-6-minutes-welcome-to-the-challenge-12-22-2020-2/

(The challenge prompts: Even though we can’t have all we want, we ought to be thankful we don’t get what we deserve.)

#Simply6Minutes: poolside drama

she: can you see the pool?

he: pool?

she: yes can you see it?

he: ya

she: you need to do something

he: thing?

she: ya, thing, like cleaning

he: cleaning? why?

she: what can you see?

he: ya, I see water

she: the dirt! the leaves!

he: ya, so?

she: so!!! do something!!!

he: ok, wait till i finish this (busily watching the screen of his mobile)

she: (silent. leaves.)

she: (returns. Hand full of stuff. Throws at him.)

he: (loudly yep) what…is this for?

she: (more loudly) do something or i’ll do something to you!!!

nothing happens after a long pause, followed by a loud splash. Someone falls into the pool.

(end)

https://christinebialczak.com/2020/10/27/simply-6-minutes-welcome-to-the-challenge-10-27-2020/

the perfect apathy

You remember and dwell on all the things you’ve lost and ignore all the things you haven’t. Because your scars are like stars. Yet the night stays perfectly black. —the perfect apathy (pleasefindthis Friday, August 7, 2009)

We could sing good songs about each other.

你仍记得，记忆留连在你失去的所有一切，却忽略了你仍然拥有的一切，因为你的伤痕就如同星辰，但夜晚却仍是如此完美的黑。（完美的冷漠）

我们其实可以为彼此唱出多么美好的歌呢

pleasefindthis (the pen name of Iain S. Thomas) is best known for the I Wrote This For You project, which he began in 2007 as a blog with photographer, Jon Ellis. The project was published as a book in December of 2011 and appears on bestseller lists weekly.
He lives in Cape Town, South Africa and shares his home with his wife, daughter and various animals.

various perspectives on flowers: a poem

various perspectives flowers Variations on a Theme -marriage.
the wife loves flowers
higher or lower
she will climb or stoop
just to do a loop
not the hyperloop
deco her proper coop
do not touch my chicken coop you nincompoop
wife screams with her scoop

the wife just loves flowers
same as I love mower
my shinny new machine
can do any syn
grass or flower on auto power
sunrise or sunset
programmed to get set
everytime we chat

the wife loves flowers
sorry I need shower
no time to chitchat
got to do my bet

Notes:
I experimented with a picture taken of September flowers by simple and rather primitive copy and paste four times of one selected section in oval through varying its sizes to show different perspectives. So the outcome is like the unplugged poem of a simple generic rural couple living their ordinary life each enjoying his /her hobby with different perspectives.
Note that even in rural life the guy has access to internet and chat etc.

favorite poem rambling song to end 2017

summer snow

2017 Favorites.
they call to compose an official song
to cherish entrance of wintry solace long
why they never know it’s an impossible task
anyone with brain would always ask

how long is winter to be long
haha you must be joking all along
how wide is winter to be white
is he the old guy with snow whiskers uphill hiding a wife

she’s beautiful so so much
to be goggled at by many eyes
old guy loves wife so so much
he vows she’ll not be seen by any more disrespectful, aye

you want to hide Winter with her light
brilliantly glistening deep at night
or reverse her silky white waterfall
Nay, even Spring won’t do impossible chore

he cannot remember now
how she grows her pure white snow
when his matching whiskers start their show
It seems just yesterday they were both stage-fright-voices
so simple in love in spring in songs in dances

Rumors say of late a celestial laser show persistently brews on them
with dazed drooping eyes he now lisps new sounds
decked in red digital coat and virtual hat and geeky boots and all
i give you the official winter solace rap
nothing more nothing less on
eight foot long
as my elementary AI sleigh tap
with laser beaming Reindeer Day
begin our show show show
starring L E D Pivot Stel and Winter Wanda La La La

__________________________
Note: Towards the end of 2017 I switch to write funny/dramatic/satirical experimental poems telling a story. Is it a new direction? Or is it just an intermission? I would like to think it’s both.

what we could have shared

Rounded
rounded window
One day I took note of a window scene in a black and white picture that accompanies a rather interesting story by a blogger I am following. It has the same style of another blogger who published a book of a collection of his blogs ten years ago. He wrote rather short sentences and someone from Japan did the photography. I dug out this book and just read “the people we could be”. So here I am, experimenting my own black and white attempt using Apple Photos. What I like about this picture is that almost everything in it has a round curve. There is a definite favor for roundness.
I originally took this picture in beautiful multi-colors in 2015 in an Italian Restaurant hidden in a small town in US. I was eating hot sausage sandwich alone after a rewarding hike. My best friend was on another mountain hike faraway. My friend would have liked to take a rest at this place and savor the food. Whilst I enjoy solitary travel and hiking, I sometimes like the silent company of someone familiar who enjoys the same ambience and taste. The silence is not broken and yet there is a veiled comfort of knowing that one is not alone in times of sudden need. I left this town shortly after.
P/s: Someone asks: why a sudden black and white? Well, after using many colors for too long I suddenly wake and notice that Black and White picture gives an expression of a mystery to ponder over. I quite like the short stories another travel blogger writes (in a different language) which I admit have influenced my change of taste.

confession of a rummager of times (a haiku)

Germany of time Rummager of times

Memoirs mimics mimes

Mesmerizing chimes

(A Collage of this blogger)

sometimes we only see half

Apology apology dawn a seed life Dearest love, this word is difficult to say, but I must say it, my apology to you after all these years. This morning as I wake and pick up my mobile I realize I have missed a call. Not that I care. It is not from you. When I look at this picture of a dawn I took in a hurry last January I see how much I have missed over all those years with you. The happiness and pain. Being too engrossed with things to do and others to serve I have neglected the one who really cares and gives so much of her life to me. Yes, I was unable to see the other half of my life. Like this picture, the half that is hidden is part of the picture to make it whole. I tend to omit this half when I am in a hurry driven by the grandeur of achievement for the larger audience, the larger demand, the larger issue out there. Yes, I apologize. Late, but not too late. Will you forgive me? Will you come home? Yours ever. AJ.

p/s: remember the avocado plant they cut down because it was growing too tall for the high tension wire? I have put some seeds in water and today I see a sign of life coming forth from a brave one that opens itself to a drastic change and transformation first. There is always hope for new life after all. It’s another narrow way, but together we shall pull through.

Narrow
Notes: I just found this instruction online.
“Wash it. Use 3 toothpicks to suspend it broad-end down over a water-filled glass to cover about an inch of the seed. Put the glass in a warm place out of direct sunlight and replenish water as needed. You should see the roots and stem start to sprout in about 2-6 weeks.” Growing avocados.

Only way is up: a haiku (and a prose)

decision valley
gaping mouth hungry belly
no time to tarry
~~~~~~~~~He has no regrets. “Come. Marry me.” She says. All the exterior signs say, “Don’t go.” His big boss summons him to HQ and offers, “Listen, you are making a big mistake. You can pick and choose a station if you want to. Why don’t you stay and be a partner and still marry that woman?” Pointing to the golden globe on his polished redwood table the boss says, “We have many cities for you to choose from. Anywhere on this globe. Top hospitality-convention centers. You have been to all. Just pick one nearest to her if she doesn’t want to relocate.” It all sounds nice, he thinks silently. But the boss does not know her. She has demanded a full time job with her and not with the boss. Besides, she is not going to stay in any city. She is going to the poorest of the poor. In fact, she has already been there and laid her ground work. She will leave for the deepest jungle and furthest place on planet earth thousands of miles away from any city with or without him exactly one year later. Don’t talk to her about money. She is leaving her folks’ palaces, oil fields, liners, privet jets and all. An author says, “Love comes and takes away your world.” Indeed, he somewhat understands this now. Love compels. Love demands. She is a woman who loves with fierce love. She loves to give love to the loveless. Looking down this snowy slope he now sees the long way down. But then when he first loved her he looked up and not down. Only way is up. That’s the direction he will henceforth look. She is always up there, not down.

Look Up

writing fun haiku -a passenger: a haiku (and a prose)

Mount rose copy Snowy looming mount

donning new robe white and gold

gaping toothless mouth (or shaking new shaved head)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~In this picture this traveler sees a giant head or a giant mouth, both of which are depicted by a mountain at fairly close range. So the third line of the haiku (which is always the climax line of expression) can be a choice between describing the giant’s head or his mouth. The reader? Obviously this is a fun haiku for younger readers to train their imagination and creativity and perhaps inculcate a love of poetry. Note the deliberate contrast between the three lines.

First and second lines are from the perspective of the traveler:

First line: at dawn the traveler (passenger) wakes to see a rather fearful sight of a large dark thing looming ahead of the car.

Second line: Then he remarks to himself, “O, it’s quite a majestic looking sight of a snowy mountain in his splendor.”

Third line: A comical (humorous) twist. Looking now from the perspective of the mountain: that he is either surprised at this early car approaching him without notice and shakes his head in a benign manner; alternatively he is so surprised and a bit annoyed at being woken at such unearthly hour by the strange sight and rude sound of this traveler’s car that he stares with his mouth wide opened. (Is he going to eat up the car? No one knows yet. To be continued…)

ocean in the sky: a haiku (and a prose)

a sea in sky Ocean shifted house

billowing waves right above

spectacular move

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~In the geographical terrain where the traveler now stations on this globe he sees a different sky. Another shade of blue color. Another formation of clouds. Another regiment of trees. Same globe but different. The waves of the ocean sky are different. The foams are different. Often it makes him think of how a tiny globe can have such a rich variety of colors, shades, shapes, forms, textures, tints, tones, patterns, habitat, living creatures, sounds, tastes, smells, tunes, depths, widths, heights, breadths, smiles, laughs, eyes, skins, hair, fingers, feet, babies, wind, breezes, streets, lanes, paths, roads, waysides, hills, rivers, streams, mountains, valleys, cliffs, rocks, pebbles, shores, marshlands, nests, eggs, twigs, branches, buds, flowers, plants, trees, bushes, grass, fishes, dogs and cats, snow and falls, seasons and weather. The list is in-exhaustive. There is no lack of topics for a haiku-writing traveler to record, report, and write. Compared to perhaps another habitable planet somewhere in another remote universe, this earth garden is not doing too bad in the richness in varieties. In a way, this reflects the human soul. There is no lack of the richness in varieties and peculiarities rich display of which he often takes a snapshot and jots down lest he may forget when he next comes this way.

Quotation from the Bible: Psalm 46:2-4 New Living Translation (NLT)

²So we will not fear when earthquakes come
and the mountains crumble into the sea.
³Let the oceans roar and foam.
Let the mountains tremble as the waters surge! Interlude

⁴A river brings joy to the city of our God,
the sacred home of the Most High.

walking in the green park: a haiku (and a prose)

20160227_094527 copy I think I’m alone

I hear my friend calling me

walking far beyond ~~~~~~~~~~~~coming home means I can walk anytime of the day as the green park is just nearby, about ten minutes’ drive. My occasional (like once in a blue moon) passing sadness is that I am walking alone again, unlike the clouds which tend to gather together in pairs. Old memories refuse to obliterate themselves. The clouds are plus points here as they are clean white clouds filled with water inside. You can see the water sometimes. The sky too is not bone dry blue. The sky here is soft and watery mild blue which speaks of gentleness and tenderness like a love long gone but never really forgotten.

a haiku on haiku

20160118_133154 copy.jpg

Winter is best time

suspends in space and in me

warm and cold in rhyme

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Why does this traveler write Haiku? I started writing Haiku in my teen days. I happened to read a book on Japanese Haiku (translated to English) in the library and tried writing some myself. It is simple and short and precise. It is not ambitious. It describes a moment like clicking a snapshot of something in a specific time and space. The result is a picture that tells a story.

You are not alone: a haiku bird song

an evening lone gull

Seeing with your heart
I am next to you in tune
You are not alone

~~~~~~~~~~~~
At first the traveler thought there was just one lone bird perched on a pole. When looking closely at the picture, another tiny bird emerged on a lower pole. Voilà! Not a lone bird after all.

(This much reduced-size photo was taken from a series at random by another traveler who kindly shared them. Sizes of photo-data are reduced as internet is limited and costly here. The sky is so water-color-dream-like. It reminded this traveler of the first water-color assignment copied from a magazine as a kid many years ago.)

And God said, “Let the water teem with living creatures, and let birds fly above the earth across the vault of the sky.” 21 So God created the great creatures of the sea and every living thing with which the water teems and that moves about in it, according to their kinds, and every winged bird according to its kind. And God saw that it was good. 22 God blessed them and said, “Be fruitful and increase in number and fill the water in the seas, and let the birds increase on the earth.” (Genesis 1:20-22)

Dearest love, he began: a haiku (and a prose)

a letter from up

Dearest love, he began,

seeing her at other land,

write to me, she said. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~When he travels he likes to write down what he sees, hears and thinks. A picture in his selective perceptive mind often helps him to recall the moment of encounter with colors, sounds, and lives that co-exist: a pleasant surprise, a happy feeling, a tinge of sadness, a glimpse of greatness beyond his comprehension, an act of courage, a light that stands out on the face of someone, eyes that speak kindness, a smile that spells hope, a bowl of hot soup that warms his soul, a word of friendliness like “Good morning” from another jogger, a mother pushing a pram, an old man walking his dog, yes, the general non-hostility of the expressions from nature, creatures, and even human. So he writes.

“A letter makes ordinary things seem important.”
― Marilynne Robinson, Lila

“More than kisses, letters mingle souls.”
― John Donne

“You deserve a longer letter than this; but it is my unhappy fate seldom to treat people so well as they deserve.”
― Jane Austen

“Only write to me, write to me, I love to see the hop and skip and sudden starts of your ink.”
― A.S. Byatt, Possession