MJS Creative Landing

Shirts or skins - Where do I begin you got Clavin - I got Ben Going back to 9 or is it 10 years old flat chested games I'm in No one told me not to Forget that fact that I thought I ought to Rough and tumble pitch and toss Drawing up plays like I'm a boss Never thought a girl would make 'em flinch them boys on my team dipped and slipped Oops didn't mean your embarrassment but I did; can't lie,- I did; I did Turning tides to the round ball didn't miss a beat Tomboys are always on the street Those were the days I can't deny Free and frank and bold was I I always got picked for the teams make a free throw and you the queen You got Calvin - I got Ben then came the time to win again Those were the days I can't deny Skins or Shirts and free was I  

Huck Hugh the town idiot strapped a pillow case where within was a rubber ball to his head and fashioned himself to prance along the lane and jump down the town's only well. As he went careening down the well, we all hear a loud splash and then a thud.  Rosemary Raspberry delighted in the possibility of having work for her undertaker father. Soon we all hear, "I'm al'right." Huck Hugh uncrumbled himself from the fall. "I rather thought the well was deeper than it is."  Buttercup Buttons darts over with a long rope and drops it down the well to Hugh. "Oh, Dear! Oh, Dear," she exclaims. Buttercup was large and girthy. She is rumored to have lifted the Troptop's cow out of a  ditch single handedly after the rains washed the poor heifer away. The cow, not Buttercup. Rosemary Raspberry's smile soon withers into a frown. She turns back to the mortuary stamping her feet with steady disappointment.  You see her father dotes on her rather lavis...

Negative self-talk is something I have an ear for. I have had the opportunity to tell a many a new friend when I heard that stuff falling out of their mouths, "No negative self-talk!" I am usually persistent with it. It just hits me in my ear in a bad place. To listen to someone beat themselves up all by themselves is disturbing to me. Why do that? There are so many others in the world who will do a great job of beating you down and beating you up. Why does one of them have to be you. Sometimes if it goes on long enough, I will say something like... can you put the bat down, drop the meat cleaver, take the gloves off, take your hands from around your neck, please. Stop all that negative self-talk. It is harmful not only to you but to me. So if you have someone you know who speaks to themselves in hurtful ways and you hear and witness this, remember to remind them... no negative self-talk. Examples: I'm so stupid! Look what I did again! I'm so dumb! I'm just an idi...

He purchased a three dollar scratch-off ticket at the Circle K with his tall generic coffee loaded with sugar and cream. The black late 30 something cashier had dollars on her chest to signify it was her birthday. He gave her a dollar after he asked her to drop it like it's hot. We walked to the van and jumped in. As we waited for the team lead, he began scratching with a brown smooth rock he found while scavenging at the previous worksite. His head was leaned into the card and his focus was intent as if he were six years old in an art class trying to color as hard as he could between the lines. He asked me if I played the lotto. I told him I didn't. I added that gambling was one of my addictions I let go of thirty years ago. He continued scratching. I looked about the parking lot for the lead driver. He was on his way back with several bags and two scratch-offs. The gas tank was filling very slowly. The driver opens the door and announces that he found something better than go...

Essential features of political and sociopolitical life regards games pre-eminently. Look not to the needs of those who day to day would want or need far less for not this distraction, perhaps. But I certainly think this would not dissuade the waste to teeter in other useless areas of glut and greed and avarice.  What lowly self-esteem there is for man. He helps not that so simple of distractions carry him away into rocks that dash and quell the appetite of endless destruction. It feds as long as he is unaware the beast that calls in its muted hush and useless hope. Like the mythical siren they placed them on small islands such as Fight Island and Green Bay or Tampa Bay. And like sheep lead to the slaughter they parade along in mindless fanfare as the thousand year reign drags on in Rome.

The little blue umbrella was cheap. It was not inexpensive. One can get a quality inexpensive umbrella, but a cheap umbrella is a cheap umbrella. The work was hard. It was not difficult. One can be challenged with difficult tasks and make his or her way through it, but hard labor is simply hard. The burden was heavy. It was not weighty. It was heavy. One can carry something weighty and manage about knowing the object can be sat down, but a heavy burden is just heavy. Where do you put it. The student was stupid. The student was not ignorant. A student can be ignorant and open to learning. The student is just without the gift of proper knowledge, but to be willful and unreasonable is just stupid.

 Just because you can does not mean you should!

All around me lives effect not always knowing what the cause all the around me is the cause not always knowing what the effect So glad that there are those settled enough in spirit and in themselves to push the envelop I worry much and quicksand seems to bind my feet, and voice and life Am I that sensitive seems to be the case far be it for me to say my weakness is my strength Like gases light and hardly undetected but yet here I fear to poison slowing my own livingness must sabotage always call for favors from unwitting partnerships who is to say that this is not the tapestry of fate meandering words, sidewinding thoughts, lazy as calm rivers carving out spaces still unrelenting will forward, forward needlessly professing it is just as obvious that backward's trick is this it is yet forward nonetheless call those to stand and be not moveable not pushed off the mark of righteousness the ground is firm and true the ground is firm and true

In the silence of the the day in the silence of the room, cars can be heard zooming by trying not to miss the light. A woman is whistling a jazz tune to herself and bopping through the room. She grabs a fruit snack bag and opens it up. She sits the bag down on the counter and resumes her whistling. She grabs the bag from the trash bag that is full to the brim from the kitchen island. Some paper towels spill from the bag as she lifts it out of the trash bin. She places the bag on the floor and leans over to pick up the two paper towels. Still whistling, she ties the tall kitchen bag close. She picks her right nostril and turns to exit the house. She opens the door and the door and exits, but before she exits she feels that the door nob is in the locked position so she reaches around by twisting her wrist to unlock the door to prevent herself from locking herself out of the house. Still whistling but no longer dancing, she shuts the door and moves toward the trash bin. She lifts the bin ...

He asked that his wages be 6 Miller High Life 40oz bottles a day until the job was complete. I wanted him to demo the sheetrock in the bedroom I had spent my childhood growing up in. His name was Joe Silva. He was a felon and an alcoholic. Momma liked him, though. He said he would only charge 200.00 dollars to do the 12x14 room and ceiling. I had gone to visit my mother and looked around what was my childhood room. I had punched many holes in the walls from my youth. The holes were covered with various pictures and posters over my teen years. I had kicked a hole through the bathroom 30in door by age 11. I had a rage-aholic relationship with my own space. But anyway, I had a reached a point of wanting to reconcile this relationship of punishment, so I hired Joe. He was in his 50's and had just been released. I was in the middle of leaving Tim. I was 32 and momma was 57. Momma and I purchased all the materials. We strapped the sheetrock down atop my Toyota Corolla. The pace of the jo...

Earth tumbled through the firmament and landed in the deep. The waters overtook the earth. At once the earth continued its decent breaking through to dry ground gently coming to a rest. We were in a subway station. It was night time. The waters has receded. People began to emerge from where they had sheltered. A man approached a store that was walled off with thick see-thru plastic. He seemed to want to break through and gather what he wanted. Suddenly a woman, the owner walks in from the rear area and makes eye contact with the man. She could feel his heart. It was palpable. He had his heart and mind set on wickedness. She knew the man. He had purchased items from there before, but the sudden arrest of the earth and its downward spiral brought about a change in minds and hearts. She saw something different in his eyes and upon his face. He turned away from the storefront and placed his hands in his pockets and walked forward. He himself could sense that something was amiss with his di...

My mother had a strange gift of coming up with things to keep her four children distracted. When we got too rowdy or too much kid-like, she had a way to get us corralled and cooperative. She had tricks to suck us in. She was a pied-piper of wizardry. As a child I remember the front screen door to our house always opening and closing with a loud whoop! The Summers especially were the times when we children would be in and out, in and out, in and out. Momma would hate that we let the flies in. She kept a fly swatter or a rolled newspaper close at all times. We children were not as annoyed by the flies, but as my mother grew more annoyed, the flies became out focus as well. We didn't think to make the screen door our focus and just stop all the in and out and back and forth. We became fly hunters. It didn't help that we watched Kung Fu and also attempted to catch the flies with two sticks or our hands as an impossible distraction from the task of ridding ourselves of the flies. Fl...

Happy are the hands that find good work. Happy are the feet that trod good earth. Happy are the ears that hear good news. Happy are the eyes that see clear paths. Happy are the arms that are strong and mighty. Happy are the legs that hold up bodies. The crevices lay open to the waters. The mountains dart downward letting loose the melting snows. The trees keep gapped to filter airs. The grass carpets the earth to sooth the aching soles. Up and down the ministers of life go. Here and there the job is never done. Every step and every breath drawn forth in unuttered demand. To dig your heels in is fruitless, so why not stand. Mary don't you weep. Martha don't you moan. Lazarus will rise. Atonement will come. Space is being made. A table is being set before you in the presence of your enemies. We shall eat from the hand of our Maker. Let our maker be LORD.

The thing I envy most is the ability to play the piano. Oh, that I could go back to my childhood and stubble upon some old willing teacher that would have sat me down and taught me the gift of piano playing, my life would have being one of even more isolation than it is now. I think about it and imagine that I would never leave these keys of black and white for too long. Just slide my food under the door will you. I'll get to it later. I would have been over weight or skinny as a rail for lack of attentiveness to my own health. My parents got me a guitar for Christmas when I was in the 3rd grade. I was 8. I was mostly influenced by the Partridge Family. I wanted to play, "Come On Get Happy." The very gray haired children's music teacher at the elementary school agreed to give me lessons. She started out with trying to teach me how to play "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star." I was to play this one string at a time over three frets. Can I tell you this bored the he...

Updating on the fence for my sister... She worked with me to help get the posts out of the ground. Her neighbor cut his metal fence posts and removed 18 feet of his 3 and 1/2 foot fence helping us to get our posts dug out. I opted to use a jack and force the metal posts of my sister's fence up a bit so we could begin to get them out. We had to remove four of them. One thing to note about things having been set in the ground for a long long time is that it might help to soften the ground. So, I first dug a bit around the post and then ran the water hose over to the area and soaked the ground. Then I jacked the post up as far as I could before the anchor bolts started to move. I ran more water into the hole and my sister and I began rocking the post back and forth allowing the water to get under the concrete setting. My sister's neighbor walked over to see what we were doing. He was surprised and commented that he thought we had a good idea to soften the earth with water. My take...

My friend David Hill aka Dugan or Doobie... Dugan was about 2 years younger than I was when I was in grad school in Iowa City. I had just turned 22 and he was going on 20 when we met. He was from Ft. Madison, Iowa. He would tell me how his mother complained and scolded him if his hair grew near the top of his ears. He probably didn't need to be in college, but he surely didn't need to be the only son of this mother. He never spoke of his father. We would sit on the porch that divided his side of the duplex from my side. Two other white guys lived on his side with him, Chad and Tom. We talked about race, class and gender. He was skinny (svelte) is what I like to think of him because with all his unsophistication, I found him quite sophisticated in a lost soul charming way. He would toke on his bong all summer long. I would have my gin and orange juice in hand sipping while we solved the world's divided problems. I enjoyed our chats. Porch drinking was way better than bar dri...

One profound take away from my very young self was the degree of contempt that permeated the house in which I grew up. There were other better spirits and attributes, but as the difference is between a flame and a fire, contempt blazed and the other vices glowed. Contempt consumed and the virtues showed themselves in sheer-like fashion like the wardrobed Casper the friendly ghost. Virtues were there, but you had to know them to see them and the darkness had closed in pretty fast by the time I hit the age of accountability. There is so much pain and sorrow when I attempt to write about my childhood. I told my sister when we where in our early 20's that I wanted to write about our childhood, but I wouldn't do it until our parents were dead. This should have resonated with me deeper then, but it didn't. Why was I so reluctant? Maybe it was the early sowing in of Ephesians Chapter 6 Verse 1-3. Whenever we children would push my mother to a point of her wit's end, she would ...

It is planting season. My mother purchased some fruit trees about a month ago because she wanted to plant something on the property her parents owned where she now resides. She was raised by a man who loved to farm and garden. He was always tending his garden when he had time. He was also a plumber and an all-around handyman. Her mother loved to feed the chickens and help sow and bring in the harvest. She would shell pecans and shell peas. She would snap beans. She would shuck corn. She would pull tomatoes and pluck mustang grapes. She would sit the bowl in her lap and busy herself well and fancifully.  My grandfather was not a man of letters, but he was a man of ingenuity. He knew how to put things together, even a life that was filled with obstacles and adversity. His right hand man in planting and tending was often my mother when she was available. But more often than not, he was a solo endeavor kinda guy especially after my grandmother died. Momma is turning 77 this year. Her f...

I was reflecting on eggs this morning. My thought ran to the process of being completed. There is this notion that a seed will become what it is intended to become. But not all seeds make it to maturity. Somethings go as far as they are called to go. Sunflower seeds and pumpkin seeds can remain seed and be planted again. They can be eaten raw or toasted. The seed can be ground up to a fine powder. The seed can go bad. That brings me to the egg. This particular subject ran across my mind. There once was an embryo that swam in a goo that might have had hopes of becoming a chick. This chick might have had the dream of becoming a chicken or rooster. Even as a chicken or rooster the embryo may not have envisioned its end as having its neck rung or chopped off. Maybe it never thought, if it does the sort of heavy lifting thinking humans do, it never thought it would be food for a coyote or be pierced through with a stick and roosted over a fire. We all have a destination. None of us knows wh...

Today I spent the morning taking down 18 feet of my sister's damaged fence. The brush growth behind the fence and between her wooden fence and the neighbor's metal fence was offensive. Brush was intertwined in the metal fence and was pushing everything in odd directions. My sister's posts had moved at least 3-5 inches from their original placement. I ran home and got my oscillating saw because it is the only thing I had small enough to get between small tree trucks, the neighbor's fence and my sister's fence's 2x4s so as to get to the screws to remove the 2x4's from the posts. It did the job.  Thank goodness I had that tool. Also, thank goodness I had different size bits and bit extenders because it was all sorts of problems reaching screws. I also needed the oscillating saw to cut a 20 foot 2x4 down to 12 ft. Whoever put this fence up ran a 20 foot 2x4 across three sets of post hanging attachments. I was not going to take down 10 more feet of pickets for th...