Interested? (a 100 word story opening)

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Someone once said that even the villain is the hero of their own story.  Yeah, that’s a bunch of… 

Sorry.  I’m not usually that crass.  I prefer to be in control.  Total control.  That’s why I am leaving this recording.  I don’t want myopic historians researching me to think I was lucky or a bumbling opportunist.  This will be the witness to my greatness, especially since no one else is capable of fully comprehending what I am about to do without me helping by giving you this simplified commentary.  Sit back and marvel at the mind of an unmitigated genius.

Sorry (an acrostic poem)

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So, obviously I have not been posting that much to my blog lately

Oh believe me, I wanted to keep publishing every day, but I had my reasons

Reason one, my professional life has demanded more of my time

Reason two, I needed to get a bunch of stuff done around my house

Yet the time is coming where I will return.  Thank you, and please keep checking in

Lens (an acrostic poem)

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Looking through the telescope

Everything looks so much closer

Nothing is beyond his ability to observe

So the only reason he stopped was because the police knocked

Want (an acrostic poem)

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Why should he be tortured because of his desire to have all the things

And not be able to have them because they cost too much?

Not that he was going to let that small problem stop him from getting his fix

This safe, though…

Sell (an acrostic conversation)

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“So I heard you are looking for a thing.”

“Everyone is looking for a thing.  Can you be more specific?”

“Listen, if I tell you more the price is going to quadruple.  So what do you say?”

“Let me think about it.”

West (an acrostic poem)

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Watching the sun make its escape as it sinks beneath the horizon

Everything becomes more magical in that twilight moment

Snippets and whispers of other realms peek from beyond the veil

That opportunity sets as darkness brings down the curtain

Contrast (an acrostic poem)

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Cold, cold logic sets fire to my imagination

Oblivious to the pain, I draw out tears of joy

Nothing can stop me but myself

That’s what makes creating so hard.  It’s destroying simple things

Reaching the basic elements and then building complex structures on them

Always digging deeper and climbing higher

Searching for the thing that is always with you

That is the war of the abstract and realism that defines me

Petite (an acrostic poem)

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Perhaps short was not quite the right word

Even diminutive didn’t fit her stature

There was so much crammed in that tiny package

It boggled his mind as he lay there

The fact that she graced him with a slight smug smile made his heart flutter

Even as his jaw throbbed from her uppercut

Travel (an acrostic poem)

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The ability to go where you want when you want was so curtailed

Reduced to going to and fro between rooms in your own place

And that was a dream luxury if you lived a studio apartment

Viewing those same four walls every day, day in, day out, hour after hour

Eventually even the strongest of will would start to feel incarcerated

Leaving one to make marks on the wall to mark doing your COVID time

Wisp (an acrostic poem)

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Winding through the dark recesses of my mind

I follow the glimmer of an idea as it floats just out of reach

So I shouldn’t have been surprised when I fell into a mental swamp

Pushing me under the murky surface to drown in the fetid cerebral sludge