Sunday, April 3, 2011

Mean To Me


Spring is stuttering and trying to start
While I search for magic in the dark
And as the world brightens, through cold that is weaning
I remain confounded and looking for meaning.

Pleasant weekend that has almost run its course
Tries winning its fight against time’s ancient force   
But Monday approaches with its mind-boggling mist
I seriously doubt I’ll find its gist

Then the days and the weeks and the months saunter by
There go the seasons as time starts to fly
My questions become diluted in the calendar dance
And I stop believing in any significance

The years start to carve lines in my face
My heart grows comfortable in its lonely place
Middle-age body full of achy joints
Remains unconvinced that there’s any point

Yet...

I still search for magic in this senseless life
While fighting the shadows and holding off strife
Using laughter and music to fight off the cry
I have a feeling, I will never know why.

Long... drawn-out... albeit hopeful... sigh.

Monday, March 21, 2011

Yappy Little Dogs

So I used to detest yappy little dogs.  I always imagined that when I walked by their yard, and they started barking, that their yaps were actually saying things like “GET OFF MY YARD”, “I HATE YOU”, “I WANT TO BITE YOU BIG TIME” or when I was feeling especially murderous towards the little buggers: “DON’T COME NEAR ME!!” or  “ARRRGHHHHH HELP, SHE’S GOING TO KILL ME”.   You get the idea.  The older I got the more these damn little dogs annoyed the hell outa me.  The amount of trouble I started going through in an attempt to avoid them altogether (like walking blocks out of my way etc) was becoming ridiculous. 

Until one day (in the early stages of my ongoing and snail-paced ‘awakening’), it finally dawned on me that what I thought they were saying to me... was completely my own invention.   Suddenly I realised I was free to imagine they were saying anything to me.  Now everytime I see a little yappy dog I imagine they’re saying things like:   “I LOVE YOU’  ‘HI, I’M ADORABLE - DO YOU HAVE FOOD?’ ‘WANT TO COME PAT ME?” “LET’S PLAY, WANNA PLAY, WHO WANTS TO PLAY, YOU KNOW YOU WANT TO!!!” etc.  

That one thought transformed my feelings about yappy dogs overnight.  Now I can’t wait to walk past little yappy dog’s yards.  They seem so cute and welcoming and EXCITED!  My perception of their infinite joy is completely uplifting.  

So yeah, weird eh.  Cuz the next thought I had was to remind myself that, well first, that I’ve been imagining a lot of intelligence inside little yappy dogs and second, that my perception of what PEOPLE think of me (before they even speak) can be just as easily self-manipulated.  Someone said to me once “What you think of me is none of my business”.   Now it makes sense.  Does this post make any sense?  Probably not, but hey at least now it’s done.   :O)

Friday, March 18, 2011

Super Cow Comic #1

At our last writers' group meeting, the facilitator (the lovely Liz) gave us each a "Comic Strip Worksheet" that contained 6 boxes, with what looked like two "Sorry" game pieces inside each.   She asked us to write a converstion between our main character and our villain.  This is what I came up with. I LOVE it but I have a very juvenile sense of humour so keep that in mind when you read it (IF you take the time to bother reading it that is).   Hope you have an udderly fabulous day!   - Donna.   PS... click on the comic to see a bigger version.  :o)

Saturday, March 12, 2011

I LOVE Saturdays!

Saturdays mean sleeping in; then making myself some scrambled eggs on toast and reading my science magazine; then going back to bed for another hour; then walking over to the local farmer's market, buying my local groceries, and chatting with my local peeps; then going home for a little nappy; then hanging out at my favourite coffee shop for most of the afternoon – catchin up on email and drinking nice hot cups of tea; then strolling just around the corner to browse in my favourite used book store; then stopping by home to grab a bit of dinner and primp a little; then going to a show at the theatre just down the street from my apartment.    Saturdays are the bee’s knees!   Saturdays are good for my soul.  I love Saturdays and Saturdays love me.  

Wednesday, March 9, 2011

Kiss It Better

Here are the lyrics to the new song I wrote (and sang at Open Mike & Donna last night).  It... uh... sounds better than it reads... honest!

 
Poison arrows keep on flying
Hurtful words that keep us sighing
Won’t you let me...
           
Kiss it better, kiss it better
Kiss it better, kiss it better
Won’t you let me kiss it better
Kiss it better, kiss it better

The world is close to dieing
And that leaves me crying
Won’t you help me

Kiss it better, kiss it better
Kiss it better, kiss it better
Won’t you help me kiss it better
Kiss it better, kiss it better

Break:             Though our luck is now good-byeing
                        Our sweet love keeps on relying
                        On the existence of our resistance
                        Won’t you help me...

Kiss it better, kiss it better
Kiss it better, kiss it better
Won’t you help me kiss it better
Kiss it better, kiss it better

Sunday, February 20, 2011

The Agnostic Secretary - Part 2

This might be the opening paragraphs to the first chapter of the "novel" I'm writing.... possibly...


“Temper you didn’t print the bulletin yet did you?”  Yelled a panicky-sounding male voice from down the hall.

Temper paused, finger actually hovering over the “print” button on her desktop.  “No” She sighed and lowered her hand.  “Whaddaya got?  Last minute announcement?” 

The minister wooshed into Temper’s office and plopped himself in the chair across from her desk.  “Thank God”.

“No pun intended right”.  Temper gave him the “look”.  

Rev. Arnold grinned, grabbed a lined pad from her desk, and started frantically writing notes.  “The council chair called me about these notices two days ago and I plumb forgot all about ‘em until now.”  He glanced up apologetically and then grinned again.

Temper couldn’t stay annoyed with him....the old geezer.  She smiled resignedly and took the now scribbled-on note pad back from him.  “you’re one lucky son of a...”

“Ah ah ah!”  He smirked, wagging his old wrinkled finger at her, “no swearing in the church”

“Did I swear?”  She began deciphering the scribble and entering the new information to her already jam-packed Order-of-Service Bulletin for Sunday’s service.  “And anyway, this isn’t the church, it’s my office....I claim this little square of real-estate in the name of Agnosticism.  You have no power here.    Scram before your God finds out you’ve been fraternizing with the forces of evi....”

She was rudely interrupted by his hyena-howl of a laugh.  “We’re the UNITED church.  I can talk to anyone I want.  God WANTS me to talk with the likes of you.”  He chuckled some more as he ducked the paper ball tossed at his head.  Arnold loved teasing his favourite secretary.  “Seriously though Temper...” he gave her his sweetest nice-old-man smile “Thank you”. 

She melted, as he knew she would and smiled back.  Then she turned back and busied herself with the computer.  “Don’t you have a meeting or something to go to?”

“Indeed I do!   See you tomorrow Temperance.”   With a quick wave of his hand and a final Santa-like twinkle, he was gone. 

Two hours later, Temper placed the stack of printed bulletins in the sanctuary, grabbed her coat & umbrella from the hall closet, checked the lights, locked the door and headed out into the drizzly November night. 

“Well at least I earned some more Accumulated Time” she muttered to herself as she walked wearily down the street.   She’d be able to take a whole week off in January if this hectic pace kept up until Christmas.  That was fine with her.  She needed to be busy just now.  Her personal life seemed depressingly quiet these last few weeks.  Which was crazy.  There were lots of people in her life.  Just like always.  sigh.  Lot’s of people on the edges but no one on the inside who...

Suddenly she was plunged into darkness.  “What the....??”   Temper had been walking down the very brightly lit streets of Wolfville towards her apartment.  Not only had the street-lights just gone out, but all sound had stopped as well.  There was no more rain, no more puddles, no more moon or clouds.... there was... nothing. 

“Behold!” cried an authoritative Voice.

“W-w-what?” whimpered Temper

“Dude, they don’t say that now” cried an equally authoritative though (it thought anyway) slightly “hipper” Voice.

“Behold and rejo..... what do you mean they don’t say that now?” cried Voice #1.

“’Behold’ is sooo yesterday” cried Voice #2.  “You need to say something like ‘Yo mama check it out’, or ‘Hey there (cheesy finger snap and point).  Howz it goin?!’  I mean, we are TRYING to be understood properly this time right?”

“Very well” cried Voice #1 a touch exasperatedly.  “What was that second greeting again?”

Voice #2 took on a ‘Jim-Carey-at-his-comic-cheesiest’ sound and repeated “Hey there. Howz it gooo-in?!”  Temper couldn’t see the dimpled grin or the cheesy wink or the finger snap and point (she couldn’t see anything) but she could tell they were there all the same.

Voice #1 sighed heavily and cried with great precision “hey/ there/ how/ is/ it/...”

 “Don’t forget the wink!” cried Voice #2.

“Go/ ing... I beg your pardon?” cried Voice #1.

“The grin and the wink” explained Voice #2.

“I’m not going to wink” hissed Voice #1 “she can’t even see us!”

“Yes, but she can hear it in our voices” grinned Voice #2 with another wink.

“This is ridiculous” steamed Voice #1.  “We’re Angels, not some kind of 70’s Game-Show hosts!!”

“They call us hosts all the time!”

“Not that kind of host you idiot!”

“Um....” interrupted Temper weakly.

The Voices stopped arguing and turned their attentions back to Temper – which creeped the heck out of her.  “Uh...  wha...  could you... um... where?   what are y.... uh...”  Temper’s mind reeled towards the brink of insanity, touched it for a moment, then came back as she settled finally on one word.   “Angels?”

-written by Donna Holmes.  November, 2010.

Wednesday, February 9, 2011

Last Night I Walked...

Last night I walked where the fairies live.  Tall ice castles brilliant to behold.
The light of the moon cast a golden haze
Reminiscent of the end of days

Last night I walked where the fairies live.  Wandering the path of winter's fold.
The enchanted realm watched silently.
From trees that had fallen violently

Last night I walked where the fairies live - feeling warm inside the cold.
The cynic scoffed but they laughed at him. 
They played with her hair and delayed the wind.

Until time came for the walk to end - the memory of which, now told.