Miscellaneous Writings and Musings


A genie and her rock band

(Novel and Short Stories)

Steal Tomorrow

Steal Tomorrow
Murder, Mystery, First Love, and the End of the World

(Novel and Short Stories)

My Books and Stories

My Books and Stories
Where to Buy, Read, Download


wander far,
and now back home.

What country did you visit?
What new customs sampled?
Were the natives affable,
or did they terrify you
with their strange ways? 

A nice place to visit,
but I wouldn’t want to live there.

You tasted new delights
and attended a masked ball.
What costume did you don,
and is it one
you’d wear again,
or will you fold it carefully away
with rose petals and a kiss
for memory’s sake?

Oh, find your way back
to where you were before!
For after all the dancing
and charade,
you’ll be galvanized
by journey’s end
to pick up all the pieces
and make your house
a home.

This is a Three Word Wednesday post.


I would state my case,
state my plans,
write every little aspect
in a memo
(just for you)
and facilitate understanding,
so you embrace my contradictions
instead of turn away,
too certain of your certainties
to see.

But that's just a foolish dream.

In this country of illusion
you will confirm
your own beliefs,
instead of juggling
with the notion
that this time
you are wrong.

Since I have no love of argument
and shouting at the wind,
I will therefore leave my note
and let you tie
the ragged strands of truth
in whatever knot of lies you wish.

I hope if nothing else,
it makes an interesting picture.

This was written for The Sunday Whirl.

55 - Snow Day

A snow day was all he wanted.
He wished and prayed for it hard.
Just some precip and freezing temps,
and he would have snow in his yard.

So he sat in front of the TV
watching forecasts, hoping for snow,
and to his delight, during the night,
he got his wish, wouldn't you know!

This is an older pic, but there really is a chance we'll get a snow day tomorrow.

Have you written a story in exactly 55 words? Don't wait for a snow day to tell the G-Man!

Slow Dance

Calm, precise, stylized,
each step a minuet:
an exercise in control. 

skin deep

Probe the surface
and you’ll find
all the deadly sins,
plus a few extra.

Following the prescribed pattern
conceals our lustful and malevolent thoughts,
gossip and jealousy,
and the great trespass of boredom.
So hide your repulsive desires
behind a mask
and execute each figure
with a smile.

We are beautiful.
We are perfect.
We are liars.
And we are legion.

This is a Three Word Wednesday post.

Suit of Clothes

I would conjure
a suit of clothes
and stuff you inside,
like an eagle in a sparrow's nest,
making you bend and twist to fit;
here too loose
here too tight
tie the flapping bits with twine,
perhaps add a cap,
though it doesn't fit right.
Then I would love you
(or hate you)
for how well you wear
my creation.

Something tells me 
here lies madness,
though I suspect
you dress me, too,
in curls and trinkets
of your own devising,
that no more suit  me
than the feathers of a crow
or a peacock's plume.

But let us not break our spirits
over such matters.
I say here now,
I know my duty,
and though I breathe a little sigh,
I will carry my conjured costume for you
back to the chest of dreams
where it belongs.

This was written for The Sunday Whirl.

Storm Clouds

Headed into the storm again.
(All deeds carry a price.)
And though I try to stay remote,
sit still,
be mindful,
wait for wisdom
to illuminate my cluttered mind,
the impact of the past
makes unmistakable ripples
in the present's pool.

If there is one thing 
I need now,
it's a clear day,
by catastrophe.
by the weight
of fresh disasters.

Clinging to the lifeless past
only buries me deeper
in the muck
of wishing,
imagining what is gone
or cannot be.

These are the scenes that haunt me
as I wait for the clouds to part
and reveal the sun.

This was written for The Sunday Whirl.

55 - Un-wisdom Teeth

They read the instructions
in the DNA,
then decided
to toss them away.

"We're rebels, iconoclasts,
we do as we please.
Grow vertically?
Don't be a tease."

They grew horizontally
(thought they were clever)
but found themselves
in a different endeavor.
Painful extraction
is what fate bequeathed,
for that is what happens
to un-wisdom teeth.

I'm almost 100% after my foot injury, and now this. When it rains, it pours, right?

Have you got a story that can be told in exactly 55 words? Let the G-Man know!

55 - Acoma

He heard they built it high to keep it safe, but eventually everything falls to invaders and technology. Today he feels welcome in his t-shirt and goofy hat until he overhears a native quip, "If we don't like you, we'll toss you over."

Watch your back. Don't haggle over pottery. The past is not forgotten.

Can you tell a story in exactly 55 words?  No need to toss anyone off a cliff - post your tale on the G-Man's site!