Inappropriate Conversations

How we read a poem and how we read a hymn are very different things. Mixing that up intentionally can produce interesting, or taxing, results.

In perhaps an equal and opposite reaction to Valentine's Day as a concept, the poem "Unrequited Love" is -- whether romantic or not -- deeply sad, in my opinion. It's open to interpretation, of course. One interpretation is the death of a friendship.

I believe the out-of-place feeling between leaving school and being established in a vocation is universal and remains relevant, if not more than just relatable, today. The same cannot be said for postal concepts like "six to eight weeks for delivery."

A few weeks ago, I posted one of the longest pieces of fiction I've written. This is one of the shortest, composed in the simplest way possible, using only simple sentences.

Some Assembly Required (A NeoSurrealist Forsaking a Habit for Lent) was completed on April 1, 1994. 

I've long believed that something more personal and profound is identified within Isaac Newton's laws of motion. This three-stanza poem looks inwardly at each theory. 

Especially on a holiday weekend, I suspect a scene like this plays out all across the world. A baby sleeping in mother's arms is gently taken by a father (in this case) to bed, gently and quietly to not interrupt the slumber. In my family, that simple transfer from one parent to another was often more delicate than it sounds -- a disentaglement of sorts.

I don't like it when podcasts I enjoy disappear. Even if they gracefully pod-fade, I've been known to wait weeks or months before finishing the last episode. It's worse when things stop abruptly. 

Here is a short, sweet origin story for the most important relationship of my life, including a key tie-in to Christmas Eve.

Perhaps the true will of God is written between the lines.