Book of Jamez

55 y/o malcontent, something of a writer

Tag: Writing

  • foster home

    brown house now blue
    gray hair then and now too
    Ma in rocker knitting
    Pa in recliner

    fear crawls up my spine
    my bags packed, all that is mine
    social worker pressures shoulder
    keeps me from running

    dinner together, conversation and laughter
    alien world, foreign notions – food a plenty
    tears delay that first night,
    though hard fought, buried deep

    rules, responsibility, chores
    wake up myself for school
    wash dishes, mow lawns
    allowance? what’s that?

    foster brother and i
    share smokes and stories
    on the front patio
    now enclosed, then exposed

    three years teach me, show me love me
    five years gone, back i come to make right
    show them i’ve found the light
    love unconditional, no exceptions

    dc bound, to find my way
    just call anytime
    no questions asked
    you can always come home

    breast cancer scare,
    tears unhindered
    stream down my cheeks
    fear strikes deep and hard

    twenty years later, college bound
    ma and pa, rhonda and greg
    come to see the sites,
    nope!
    to see me off, wish me well, show me love

    the family i didn’t choose
    forced upon me by action of youth
    became the one that mattered most
    showed me the truth of love itself

  • A Novel Idea

    How do you write a novel? How do you put together stray thoughts and ideas into a seamless series of events?

    First I have to be rid of old ideas:
    a novel is –> this big <– or a paragraph this long. These ideas are stuck in my head, and the idea that I have to have the killer opening line. Like Billy Crystal from Throw Momma From the Train constantly writing and rewriting the same line “the night was dark… the night was misty, it was a dark and stormy night…” and wanting to kill when someone comes up with the perfect line… in this case it was: “The night was sultry…”

    A story, an idea, a biography, all of these things can be a book… provided you just take that one step at a time and make it happen. Sitting and staring at a blank sheet of paper, or in my case a blank computer screen doesn’t accomplish anything….

    JUST WRITE!

  • Spring Semester 06

    Can you believe the time is here already for me to pick my spring classes? Me either, hell, I can’t believe I made it this far!!!

    I will be taking the following classes: Math 4 (real Algebra), ENG 112 (that’s writing), SPD 100 (Speech), and PED 129 (Self-Defense). My class schedule will be M/W Math, ENG and SPD and Tuesday nights PED. Which leaves me with a 4 day weekend, and Tuesdays free to do homework for Wednesday!!!

    English, is the obvious choice for a class, as that is my strongest point and the goal of this adventure.
    Math is required, but I will have my teacher that I like.
    Speech, well, even I get nervous standing in front of people talking.
    Self-Defense? Well, being the HOMO in redneck VA, I need to be able to defend myself.

    I will also be submitting my application for admission into ODU (Old Dominion University) for next Fall. ODU will allow me to pursue an English degree and become a writer (professional) or reporter if I opt for a journalism minor.

  • Dark and Handsome

    As I turn to leave I see the desperation in his eyes begging me to come back to bed for one last kiss. I would love to lay next to him, running my hands over his body, my fingers through his dark hair.

    He never wants me to leave, it’s always the same: his needs his wants come first in his mind. Nothing but my presence next to him will do, he loves no other.

    Finally I succumb to his desires and bend down for one last kiss.

    “Meowr” Q says, hoping, just hoping I don’t walk out the door to school.

  • Saviour's Cookies

    In Psychology class we were asked to create an ad that evoked a response, below is my ad:

    Saviour’s Cookies

    An sad angel, complete with halo and wings, is on the screen holding a box of Saviour’s Cookies.

    “Last week ten children died without the heavenly taste of Saviour’s Cookies, don’t let your child be a victim, serve them the heavens light cookie: Saviour’s.”

    The angel folds her hands in prayer and we see her fly up to the heavens. Lot’s of organ music in the background.

    Of course on the back of the cookie package we’d have to have some kind of warning label about how it doesn’t actually save lives, but I think printing it in Latin would do the cookie’s justice.

    Would you feed your children Saviour’s Cookies?