Wednesday, November 25, 2015


Trickling in slower than sap dripping down the side of a heavily barked tree
My ideas come to me
They always ask the same question
Am I important enough to be transferred to paper
I say that it depends on the type of paper
The puzzled look on the faces of my ideas makes me smile
I tell them that some are fit for the finest rag vellum money can buy
The ideas shift and talk amongst themselves excitedly
I continue that others would be relegated to adorn my bathroom tissue
That remark garners only thick and desperate silence
I love it when my ideas get worried


  1. Love this, perfect! Yeah mine are like that too. And I always think the priciest of ideas are the ones that I forgot before writing down. Dammit.

  2. Yes.. we need to shake these ideas, make them a little less vain... my ideas need to ferment a little before they would ever reach a paper.

  3. Haha!
    This is a unique angle on the writer's craft.
    "I love it when my ideas get worried". Great stuff!

  4. LOL. "I love it when my ideas get worried." I love that line so much!

  5. haha oh I read all of that with a smile. Such a great take on the fight we all have with our ideas and words - so many destined to litter the floor. still waiting for the good ones to slip through the net here...
    Glad to see some of them made their way onto this fine paper of blog

  6. I like your content having read several pieces. I smiled. I laughed. I understood.

  7. cool beans, senor. hope you're having a good new year ~