Category Archives: Writing

Arachne

I whirl with words and spin them from my tongue as if I would a wonder weave of all the magic phrases learned since I was young and dervish, since I was spider small. I prisoned insects then to learn … Continue reading

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Omission

Oh I can pen advice I wouldn’t heed, compose an argument that I’d ignore, devise a dialogue I’d never read, report a juicy item that would bore me if I happened on it in a book, and even leave me … Continue reading

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Treasures

Of all the gifts my life bestows on me ideas I value most. Computer treasures electricity but software is a ghost that current-craves as we require blood, as sunshine is essential for the bud, and we, elaborate, are built to … Continue reading

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Juxtaposition

I can make a satisfying meal: tasty mixture at a low expense. I can cook a dinner of appeal but I can’t fabricate ingredients. I can change an argue to agree (switch a letter, make the order squirm). Composition is … Continue reading

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Homework

I was browsing through old poems recently, and came across two written 17 years ago but in the same week, about life with my kids. I was 44 at the time. Katie had just turned 18 and Danny was 12. … Continue reading

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Backtitled

I watched a striving author try to write a novel once, a score of years ago, except his search for perfect title quite disabled him. His story wouldn’t grow until he had initiated it with words he mined, and screened, … Continue reading

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Rebuttal

As far back as I can remember, I wanted to write. I’ve always loved stories and verse, and I’ve been dabbling with them, or more, since I learned to read in 1956. And at least through adolescence, I operated beneath … Continue reading

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Characters

It’s been said before and today it’s my turn. When you create fictional characters, they’re likely to make decisions and proceed in directions you didn’t anticipate when you started them. It isn’t that they act perversely – rather, you didn’t … Continue reading

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Kaleidoscope

  When I was almost 54, I glanced out the BART window and was dazzled by sun diamonds. It was a bright winter morning and I was on a train headed to San Francisco. My seat was on the port side, … Continue reading

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Hot Pink

   When I was 14 I had a vivid demonstration of the paint chip illusion. The paint wasn’t actually chipping. The term referred to small squares of color on strips of light cardboard, with dramatic names printed below them. Stores that … Continue reading

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