You’re Not The One…

You're not the one for me!

Sure! You make my heart skip a beat

And you lift me off my feet

But you're still not the one for me!!!

The one for me wouldn't love me then leave me,

Wouldn't leave me to hold my pillow tight,

Each and every night,

So you're SO not the one for me.

You might brighten up my very day

And love me so well in every way

But you're still not the one for me.

So what if I love you so much it sometimes hurts,

When you take my heart and grind it in the dirt?

So what if you are my all and all,

When you kick my heart 'round like a football

You might be my first and my last

But you see…you're so not the one for me.

I reason, I ponder

I search and I wonder

Logic tells me that I'm right

But my heart still puts up a fight

And whispers…

You're SO the ONE for ME!!!!

Written: 18 April 2008

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By the Window

I sit by the window and watch life go by

Everyone's in motion but I.

My life stagnates like water in a pail,

They live, they love

They laugh, they cry

But I…

I sit by the window and watch life go by.

One day maybe

I'll join in life

But for now it seems

I'm destined sit by the window and watch life go by.

 

Written: 18 October 2005

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Wordzzle Week 54

10-Word Challenge:

Words:
sugar bowl, cotton, wizard, fundraising, Ben Hur, salmonella, luke warm, telescope, bank, walk-a-thon.

Story: Emma hurried out of her office in the Bank in order to get home to change for tonight's benefit. She'd decided to attend the charity fundraising at the Metropolitan Center, in aid of victims of the latest salmonella outbreak, dressed as Cleopatra while Oscar her date was still stuck between going either as Ben Hur, the
Wizard of Oz or a sugar bowl. The evening was a bust, Oscar spent most of the night looking through the Mets' telescope, the wine was luke warm and the mousse tasted like a swab of cotton and Oscar, the silly fool, had registered them for next week's walk-a-thon without even asking her.

Mini Challenge:

Words:
challenge, sparkling cider, melancholy, snail mail, master carpenter.

Story: Jonathan was master carpenter
at CraftsRUs. As he sipped on the glass of sparkling cider his wife had brought into his workshop, he found himself in a state of melancholy as he considered the new challenge that had arrived via snail mail.

Mega Challenge:

Story: The annual Sugar Bowl
was in less than three weeks and Jill was distraught and decidedly melancholy! She'd been given the job of organizing the whole shindig and everything was spiraling madly out of control. The master carpenter was behind schedule with the float, the council was still dilly-dallying over the permit that would allow them close a section of the borough for the fundraising walk-a-thon. The challenge
of getting the state health inspector approval for the food vendors still hadn't been surmounted, especially with the current salmonella outbreak and the snail mail brigade were back on strike again. Moreover, hell of all hells…the cotton candy machine was double booked for that day.

The rest of the Sugar Bowl committee was lukewarm about her ideas on the theme and entertainment for this year's extravaganza. She wanted a Roman or biblical theme with the entertainers dressed up like Cleopatra, Mark Anthony and Ben Hur. The others wanted a cosmic and magical theme with complete with fairies, elves, witches, wizards, and a giant telescope. The Miller people still hadn't fulfilled their pledge of giving them 24 barrels of sparkling cider and the committee's bank account was almost in the red. She was in a total tizzy and was sure that she was doomed to go down in history as the ONE…the one who ruined the Sugar Bowl!

For more about Ms. Raven and instructions on how to do the Wordzzle for yourself, go to Views from Raven's Nest

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Wordzzle Week 57

10-Word Challenge:

Words:
apoplexy, doctor, hummingbird, shallow end of the pool, brigadier general, mustard, greed, parallelogram, slumber party, casual.

Story:
Doctor Stuart in his usual low and monotonous voice educated Brigadier General Mustard on the realities of his current condition.

"Apoplexy is a result of excess pressure on the brain and that explains your bouts of loss of consciousness and voluntary motion. I can assure you that this condition is not one to be taken casually. There is no quick fix here! If you do not listen to my advice, you will find yourself in the deep end of the pool without a lifejacket, if not dead!"

All the while, the brigadier general stared out of the window, focusing past the parallelogram formed by the trees in the arbour to; a cheeky little hummingbird sang in one of the trees, and his granddaughters and their friends, splashed in the shallow end of the pool, before heading out for their planned slumber party. He thought to himself "I once thought that I no longer have the greed for life that makes one care to live, till my daughter, Carrie, and my granddaughters' came back into my life! Now I want to live" and resolved to do whatever the doctor thought was best.

Mini Challenge:

Words:
Mount Olympus, arsonist, portraits, birch trees, "that car needs a new muffler."

Story: Shirley tilted her head to get a better view of the particular picture she was reviewing. It was one of a series of portraits by Michel Von Strauss titled the Arsonist's Revenge, and this one had a smoldering Mount Olympus obscured by a clump of birch trees. The Sunday Review had paid drive to Michigan and her car kept backfiring and contributing in no small measure to Global warming. She made a mental note to tell her mechanic that that car needs a new muffler

Mega Challenge:

Words:
apoplexy¹, doctor, hummingbird, shallow end of the pool, brigadier general, mustard, greed, parallelogram, slumber party, casual, Mount Olympus, arsonist, portraits, birch trees, "that car needs a new muffler."

Story:
Brigadier-General Mustard was having a Mount Olympus sized fit! Carrie tried to calm him, reminding him what his doctor had said about apoplexy. He was livid with rage. An arsonist had set fire to the guesthouse, luckily no one had been in. his granddaughters had gone to a slumber party and would not be back till the next day. The birch trees in the arbor had been obliterated and he feared for the lives of his favorite hummingbird family that usually congregated there. Unusually for her, Carrie was dressed in casual wear, a pair of joggers with a strange parallelogram motif, and she had a grease smudge on her blouse. The brigadier general mused on that before asking her about it. "Oh dear me" she responded, "It must be from that old banger of mine, that car needs a new muffler I think." The General started to get a little suspicious about the identity of the arsonist
when he discovered a grease-stained rag, hidden behind a flowerpot near the
shallow end of the pool. Especially when the insurers began asking about the value of property in the guesthouse and Carrie started to go on about a group of portraits that he was sure had already been sold last year. Could Carrie be the arsonist and was
greed
the motive?

For more about Ms. Raven and instructions on how to do the Wordzzle for yourself, go to Views from Raven's Nest

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Pen and Blank Pad

Over the last couple of weeks I've had sort of a writer's block. It's not that the ideas don't come...it's follow through that's the problem.

1001 bright ideas pop into my head, and a few are kinda great (if I say so myself), I even hear voices in my head spewing forth witty dialogues (and yes...I do know how that comes across!!!) but when it comes to putting pen to paper (or in the 21st century, finger to keyboard, or in my case, to mobile phone keypad) I ram a brick wall. The fountain of words dries up, the voices press mute, and my muse jumps ship.

I think I understand why I'm muse-less! Over-anxiety! I got a lot of props for writing humorous and insightful little pieces, and some actually suggested I should think of writing professionally, either as a columnist or a novelist. Now I don't know about that (although flattery is always appreciated), but now I have expectations to live up to... and they're not my mother's! (whose expectations I've at long last stopped trying to meet. I started disappointing her from when I hit 16 so why should I stop now? :-)).

Competition is also rendering me 'pen' shy. It's not that I'm actively competing with anyone here, but blogspot has provided me an opportunity to see what's available and I'm green with envy. The talent abound, and the sheer artistry of many of the bloggers here has me hyperventilating, panicked and feeling like a fraud (even though I never pretended to be a writer). I need to step my game WAY UP!

The pressure to perform is getting to me, I believe. The sarcastic wittisms that formerly dripped effortlessly from my 'pen' have dried up quicker than a water droplet in the Sahara. The tongue in cheek humor that once graced my posts, now washed up and faded... like a Hollywood starlet gone past 30!

The once fun activity now begins to feel like work (ouch...did I just say that dirty word, the W word). The thing I did purely for pleasure and free psychotherapy is suddenly my own private hell.

I've decided I'm no longer writing for anyone. I'm going to write just for me. Hopefully like Stella, I'll finally get my groove back.

DISCLAIMER: All thoughts and opinions expressed here are all mine (crazy as they might seem). All works here are my original work (unless otherwise stated)

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