I Planted a Tulip

 

I planted a Tulip –

a most colorful bloke,

Of its beauty and splendor -

most everyone spoke,

Then I planted a Mum –

to compare was absurd,

so nobody spoke,

for Mum was the word.

 

zc

The Best of Intentions

 

I planted a Zinnia -

it grew 20 feet tall,

to keep away bugs –

I built up a wall,

the wall blocked the Sun –

My Zinnia died,

now I have a garden –

with nothing inside.

 

 

zc

Bird Oil

 

There is a tiny bird that squeaks just outside my window.  I don’t think he does it intentionally.  It seems more an unconscious thing than a deliberate annoyance.  It is loud, of course, for it awakens me in the early hours.   I am sure he or she is unaware that they are doing it – this squeaking.

I expect that if they knew I was required to be fully rested and refreshed at my meeting later this morning they would let me sleep.  That, of course, would be the polite thing to do, fly off to some distant tree, far from my early morning window.

But they don't.  

And it isn’t a low chirp, like some birds have, no – this is a high-pitched squeak, squeak, squeak, like some small drop of oil would do the trick.   

Officer Wilson

 

The intersection was covered in broken glass and twisted fenders.  One gas tank had ruptured and the heavy smell of fuel was everywhere.  Ambulances were still in route and two fire trucks were busy spraying the area to dilute any spilled gas.

When officer Wilson arrived on the scene, none of us could figure out why he wandered way over to the woods and put caution tape around that tree, but we think alcohol may have been involved.

 

Do I need to be here for this meeting?

 OK, so I'm sitting here

minding my own business,

the television is on

and all of a sudden

my so-called Smart Phone

starts answering the person talking

on the TV.

Really?

Do I need this kind of technology?

by its cover

 

A book has to grab me by the first or second sentence or I bail.   If it sounds too far-fetched, goofy or stupid I’m outta there.   Lists are another thing that will chase me off.  I don’t mind if the main character walks into an antique shop, but the minute they start describing everything they see, I’m gone.  They are just trying to fill pages.  To me, that’s not writing.

 

Even though I’m not supposed to judge a book by its cover, it is the cover that causes me to pick it up to begin with.  I expect the reason that adage has survived so long is that 99% of the time, after inspecting the first page, I set the book down and move on.

 

I don’t recommend this process, as I am sure I have missed out on some good stories by bailing too soon.  On a more positive note, I have enjoyed some sentences to the point of writing them down, just so I could read them again at some later date to enjoy them all over again.

 

Examples:

 

“In the chilly hours and minutes, of uncertainty…”     

(Bob Dylan)

 

“His shoes wore the fragrance of well-traveled leather…” (Allison Hoover Bartlett)

 

Dark whispers skulk through rooms like silent shadows moving along baseboards, avoiding the light of day.   Dangerous allegations that - properly illuminated would never raise an eyebrow, in darkness tend to find the fertile soil of shallow minds.                

(Z. Corwin)

 

 *******

Listed under the, Not Impressed, category:

"It was the best of times, it was the worst of times."

Make up your mind people.

The tale of two cities.

Pick one moron,  then write a second book.  What's the matter with you?

"The Old Man and the Sea."

Spoiler alert!

 

 

It's time to cut back

 

to 40 watt bulbs