A thick, motionless July evening. The cicadas in full voice. A yellow leaf wafts onto the lush grass from a canopy of green above. It’s a gentle reminder that the solace is a few weeks behind us and that summer is bound to end again this year. *** Jim Mitchem
Before I got into blogging I used to keep an electronic journal. A few times a week I’d open up a Word document and write about things that mattered to me. Then I’d save that document and place it in a folder labeled by the year. Never to be opened again.Sometimes I’d write poetry. Sometimes short fiction. Occasionally I’d share the stories with my wife. Before I had a computer, I used to keep these journals on notebook paper – written…
When we were great, we believed that we were blessed by God. Or rather, the universal idea of God. We were blessed by God because we were a nation of different people from different places with different religions who somehow got along. And we did more than coexist; we flourished because of our differences. An intricate fabric where every thread had significant meaning and purpose. A place where we were all important contributors. We were great because we adhered to…
“Everything is perfect.” In speaking with a friend who recently gave up Facebook, she cited this as the reason. That seemingly every post by every person she follows is filled with status updates that say, “My life is better than yours.” “It’s complete bullshit.” She said. “Nobody’s life is always perfect. Yet when you visit someone’s Facebook page, you’d think they were in competition to ‘out-perfect’ everyone else.” I don’t disagree. Facebook is a platform that lets you project your…
This week I’ve been in one of those patterns where I can only focus for 15-minute intervals. Max. I don’t know why, but I just lose focus for no reason. Then I get up, walk around, clean something, play with a dog, whatever. Until just a few months ago, I smoked. Smoking was a great way to get outside for five minutes and take a break when I’d lose focus. Kidding. Smoking is stupid. But really, that’s what I used…
7:18 pm in July The thunder passes and the clouds break The cicadas start to sing At a swimming pool in the South Children splashing and playing and doing the things children do at pools Oblivious to the plight in Syria Or North Korea Or of the prostitute at crack hotel down the block Free of worry Filled with hope But not really Mostly they’re filled with merriment Keen to peeking in Marco Polo, but blind to the Apache helicopter…
