took a walk-in summer grass
picked a blade, made a sound
the air was country
wild strawberries sweet
like lazy cats we lay for hours
In the filthy hot, in the no time afternoons
sometimes on the highway to anywhere
I had never been, now I was
away from home, but home
In a holiday dusk
I remember watching mosquitos dance
we hid in quiet as the sun went to sleep
while children ran through the tall trees
like tiny beasts searching for their capture
there was so much laughter inside my heart
a new smile I learned to grow
pure place full of running and joy
town between the seconds
I’ll be back again someday?
I went for a walk the other day along the beach. As I did, I happened to look down and notice my footprints in the sand. I realized something. Every day, I worry so much about the steps I need to take and less about the ones I’ve taken. Life is always about moving forward though we forget about how far we have come already. Each step a footprint in our own lives. Just a reminder to look at your life as a journey, not a race. – Ash
my lines are barren of words
no one pays attention anymore
I walk away to try and heal
change those emotional bandages
stop the bloody hurt
when my lyrics are finally gone so will I
like a blank page…empty
death poetic is where these sonnets will live on
for stanzas from the grave bare the richest fruit
it’s then you see how poison being alive feels to a poet
when from lips when it can’t be
turning to the cover to remember from a photo
remember how abandoned I was with an audience
how forgotten I would become
unless I use creation to keep me alive
I’ll always be alone with my words
even if they are never again repeated
don’t repeat them for me
As a writer, I sometimes lose my direction. Everything becomes inside. When I start to feel that way, I go outside. I run straight into the arms of Mother Nature and she sets the scene for me. – Ash
The more present you are in a moment, the more beautiful the gift of living that moment becomes. – Ash
Screw the cab, it’s nice out, and I’m walking. Ah, the Christmas Eve Night walk home. This memory is further to the first snowfall entry I posted a few days ago in terms of the atmosphere it creates. A single awesome holiday mini-tradition that we tend to forget about. You don’t realize how Christmassy it is until you’re there in the moment. If you ask me, there’s no better backdrop to a beautiful Christmas then ending it with a brisk cool clean air walk home. Alone, or with a special love one. Either way, it creates a warm and fuzzy feeling inside. You’re Christmas so far has been nothing but food, drinks, music, friends, and your loving family. Annnnd, the best part. Well, the best part was Santa still had to swing by the old house to drop off the gifts. Score. Oh, and turkey tomorrow…oh my God, mmmmm, nan’s turkey!!!
Yes, I remember those nights when I close my eyes. How the stars always had the right amount of glow to them. Enough to guide you home. I loved how the streets had just fallen snow that sparkled in the light and covered the whole roadway. The only imperfection was a single set of tire tracks that belonged to that one taxi that was still making runs. I can still see those super big snowflakes as they fell sideways against the shine of the streetlight as I passed the last stretch toward home. By that time all I could think of was how comfy my bed was going to be.
Those chilled to the bone but warm to the heart walks home are still very vivid in my memory. No matter if it’s twenty years ago or just last year, I love a good stroll on Christmas Eve Night. Because in the end, there’s snow place like home and I’m going to jingle all the way.
I haven’t been near a school in a gazillion years, and I have no idea but would hazard a guess that teachers no long have to wheel things into the classroom anymore to spring an afternoon movie on their students. I’m pretty sure classroom technology has far surpassed what I remember. But, when I do remember, I think about what that feeling was like when I returned to my seat after lunch and my homeroom teacher wheeled that bad boy into the room. There was always the classic wiggly-wobbly one bad wheel too. Here I was thinking the afternoon was going to be nothing but a long-winded boring clock-counting lecture, and now I’m in charge of pulling the thousand pound navy blue curtains close. This afternoon was going to be awesome.
Ah, the afternoon school Christmas movie. There’s no better send off to the holiday break if you ask me. It was certainly the case when I was a kid in awe that very day many Christmases ago. Now, with the curtain drawn and my job done there was only the usual five minutes of shushing and the teacher threatening to turn off the movie three times before the room fell pindrop silent. Followed by a little elementary fart. A quick “I’m warning you!” Then, we were ready. All eyes trained on that teeny tiny audio-video TV, that had just enough light to spot everyone’s smile.
Ah, the first snowfall in December. I have to say, it’s a magical thing! A bunch of huge snowflakes and suddenly I’m ten years old again. Sticking my tongue out as far as I can trying to catch the biggest one. Then, I am running as fast as I can, planting my two feet sideways and sliding halfway down the street. That’s pure joy right there. Yes, Santa is getting ready for Christmas and the snow coming now proves it. I thought that as a young boy and I think that now. It’s the perfect way to bring that smile back to your face that the Grinch might have stolen.
What about you? What special memories of Christmas come to mind for you when you look out the window and realize it’s starting to snow? Does it take you back to a particular moment in time, or does it simply put you in the mood for Christmas?
By the way, it’s beginning to look…
When I think of Christmases past, I remember the school concerts we had every year. After dark bus rides, pants too short, running around in your classroom at night, and those blinding stage lights. The moment you spotted your family you’d instantly wished you didn’t. It was usually the moment my voice cracked.
Ah, the Christmas concert, the only time I ever wore tights.
What’s your memory of Christmas concerts? Come on, let me know in the comments. Don’t give in to stagefright!