Microstory 1905: When I Lost My First Dog, I Was Distraught

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When I lost my first dog, I was distraught

I never thought I could love a second

Years passed before it was something I sought

Once I did, it was Daisy who beckoned

All of the puppies, they begged and they cried

Except for her, she just could not care less

The owner set the other dogs aside

And picked her up, my little crazy mess

On the ride home, I realized I’d been tricked

She wasn’t calm, no she was just as wild

And yet as we got acquainted, we clicked

She’s the closest thing I’ll have to a child

Sophie was basically my one best friend

And Daisy’s more my baby, in the end

Microstory 1904: I Lost My Faith in People Long Ago

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I lost my faith in people long ago

We are a selfish species, that’s for sure

There’s a reason to see others as foes

Evolution is strong, but there’s a cure

We can ignore our base instincts, it’s true

It’s possible to grow, and learn, and change

When you’re frustrated, don’t threaten to sue

Just take a break, or have a nap arranged

Most people are not wanting to attack

They live as best they can with what they bear

Conflicts arrive when trains must share a track

It’s not just that they hate you, or don’t care

I know some hearts are simply filled with hate

This simply means work harder to relate

Microstory 1903: Someone Has Left Two Birds on My Nice Lawn

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Someone has left two birds on my nice lawn

They are not meant to do that, it’s not cool

The birds stay there from dawn to dusk to dawn

They must think that I’m just a spineless fool

But I got my phone out to make a call

I told them, you best take these birds from here

The problem I have with them may sound small

You may think I sound joyless and austere

But I have the right to do as I will

With my own house, and all that surrounds it

That’s not your right, and don’t tell me to chill

That just makes it worse, I may throw a fit

If you don’t get these birds out of my sight

I’ll drive them to the dump, and strike a light

Microstory 1902: I Tried To Cook a Simple Meal Today

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I tried to cook a simple meal today

I gathered all of the ingredients

At least I thought I had the whole array

But not, judging from the odd mingled scents

I have been trying to improve myself

Getting my life in order and stable

I can’t just pull random food off the shelf

I’m careful with what goes on my table

Today I sure was not careful at all

Though I guess I always make some mistake

But as they say, I must learn how to fall

Then get up to find something new to make

To be honest, it wasn’t all that bad

Using sugar for flour’s the new fad

Microstory 1901: Sleep Never Has Been Something I Do Well

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Sleep never has been something I do well

I lie in bed and wait ‘til it’s ready

I think it’s because my brain can’t be quelled

I wish that my life could be more carefree

For others, it happens within minutes

But I’m lucky to fall in one hour

Waiting puts me at the end of my wits

I wish control was one of my powers

I’ve tried to take the pills, and meditate

I’ve tried to shut off screens, and just chill out

But this is how I am, it is my fate

I wish stress wasn’t all I was about

One day, I’ll lose my problems and retire

I wish it would happen soon, I’m so tired

Microstory 1900: I Said Before How I’m Not Into Cars

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I said before how I’m not into cars

There’s more to that, it’s rather personal

The troubles I’ve had with them have left scars

They’re the biggest problem with urban sprawl

They leak and break, and are always thirsty

They’re unsafe, and kill too many people

Yet they fetishize them so perversely

Or maybe they’re all just mindless sheeple

If I don’t see another car again

Then I would say that it was too early

I cannot wait for the brilliant days when

We get rid of the cars; don’t act surly

Build vertical, and take a lift instead

It will take minutes from your work to bed

Microstory 1899: I Have a Multitude of Interests

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I have a multitude of interests

While some of them are old, and some are new

Please don’t offer more, I don’t take requests

I know that you mean well, but it’s undue

Writing and TV are obvious ones

Others, like architecture are less so

But no, I don’t like sports, or cars, or guns

Don’t talk about them, I don’t want to know

A lot of things I like require cash

Most of the money I get goes to needs

When I make more, it is gone in a flash

And I’m left alone, trapped amidst the weeds

That’s why I love fiction; it has all things

But life could change by what the future brings

Microstory 1898: There Was a Time When I Thought I’d Be Huge

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There was a time when I thought I’d be huge

My words would be read all over the world

As it turns out, I’m nothing but a stooge

With my head low, like an achievemephobe

I say I’ve tried, but that’s not really true

I never put much effort into it

I queried agents, but only a few

I guess I thought I’d be an instant hit

But I see now, it’s time to get to work

To focus on the goals I hold most dear

To scratch and crawl myself out of the murk

And spread my voice beyond the blogosphere

I’ll still write here, and let you read for free

But I deserve to sometimes charge a fee

Microstory 1897: It’s Like I Said, I’m Not Like All the Rest

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It’s like I said, I’m not like all the rest

I don’t drink, or smoke, or poison my brain

That doesn’t mean that I think I’m the best

But I’m always me in spite of the pain

I have no place to go when I get lost

No way to leave my problems far behind

I dwell in them, and it comes at a cost

Yet I am nothing if I’m not my mind

Go ahead and take my legs, arms, and bones

My eyes, and ears, and tongue, and all my skin

My job, my money, and all that I own

I’d still say I was wealthier within

As long as I’m still me then I’ll survive

As long as I can think then I’m alive

Microstory 1896: I Was an Adult When I Learned the Truth

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I was an adult when I learned the truth

Why I was divergent from everyone

I have been this way ever since my youth

It’s not like my struggles had just begun

I do not quite know why it took so long

But I had already found ways to cope

I could tell that people saw me as wrong

I just could not yet recognize the scope

I’ve never really come out of my shell

Or tried to make my brain work as theirs do

If you don’t like it, you can go to hell

Get woke, it is two thousand twenty-two

I guess I got a bit too angry there

I’m a work in progress; I try, I swear

Microstory 1895: There is Something That Is Wrong With My Life

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There is something that is wrong with my life

It has been this way for the last five years

Each day that comes is like twisting the knife

Being stuck might just be my greatest fear

When I was younger I so wanted this

To be a part of something that would last

But now it’s come it’s anything but bliss

I wish that I could go back to the past

I work quite hard, but never feel quite pleased

I’m thinking now I should just go back out

And hunt for greener grass to feel at ease

But I’m sure once I’m there, I’ll find a drought

So I’ll just suffer until it all ends

Or ’til a Deus ex machina descends

Microstory 1894: I Want to Lose the Weight That I’ve Accrued

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I want to lose the weight that I’ve accrued

To melt the fat that’s made my clothes too tight

The problem is that I eat too much food

That’s no surprise to you—no rare insight

I have started a diet to fight back

It’s too early for it to have worked yet

Calories are the main thing my meals lack

But I could always find more; that’s the threat

The best thing I can do is just buy less

It will help save money while I’m at it

And that’s the key to relieving my stress

Giving all of my weight to my wallet

Temptation has been a slippery slope

But I think it might stick this time, I hope

Microstory 1893: The Grass Will Grow Until I Mow Again

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The grass will grow until I mow again

The rain will fall, and make it taller still

If it’s too wet, I can’t even begin

How shall my duty ever be fulfilled?

They tell me just to catch and throw away

To make straight lines like a professional

My lawn will look nicer, or so they say

But I think that’s just harder, and it’s dull

The clippings add nutrients to the soil

Which makes the baby blades grow big and strong

I know I said that this means endless toil

But it will be winter before too long

Of course, the snow, it needs maintenance too

But I could also just let it melt through

Microstory 1892: When I Was Young, I got a Puppy Girl

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When I was young, I got a puppy girl

I brought her home and gave her all my love

To me, Sophie was the best in the world

It felt like God had sent her from above

She lived outside and kept watch over us

But she could melt my heart with one sad glance

We’d let her in when she put up a fuss

The squirr’ls and rabbits would have one more chance

It wasn’t long before God took her back

I’ll never forgive her for all that pain

But Soph wouldn’t want my heart to turn black

So I try to be good and not complain

I always act with patience and courage

‘Til we meet again on the rainbow bridge

Microstory 1891: Introduction to Sonnets

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About a year and a half ago, I tried my hand at poetry. It wasn’t the first poetry I ever wrote in my life, but it was the first time I thought maybe someday someone might read them. Here we are again, but while those were free verse, these are sonnets. Sonnets are a very rigid format that somehow let you go anywhere you want. Fourteen lines, every other line in a stanza rhymes, until the last two lines, which rhyme with each other. That’s not all, you have to have ten syllables exactly in each line. But even that doesn’t explain it, because iambic pentameter is more about rhythm too. Unlike my first poems, which were from the perspective of some of my characters, I believe that these ones will come from me. I’ve already written the first one; half months ago, half today. That’s probably not really how you’re meant to do it, but I think I ran out of time, and forgot about it. The idea was to have them locked and loaded before my last series ended, but when has that ever worked out for me? I’m more nervous about these than my last poetry series, since they’ll be about my personal life. The first one is about my first dog, and the last one will be about my current dog. I have no clue what I’ll write about in the meantime. As before, please be kind—I’m at my most vulnerable here. I think I’ve mentioned at some point that I am not a wordsmith. My strengths lie in the narratives; not the execution of the text. Still, I had to do these, because the math works out too perfectly. After today, there are fourteen days left this year before I get to my huge Mateo Matic project. It just made sense to write fourteen sonnets of fourteen lines each, and then likely never again. They’re obviously going to be short; nothing I can do about that, so the whole thing will be a quick read. Wish me luck.

Microstory 1721: Sea Monster

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The sea monster kills everything it touches

Nothing can escape its darkness

We rescue many who get too close

But some are too far gone

They perish before we reach them

It is my job to do everything I can to help as many as I can

But I want to do more

I want to stop the monster from taking more innocent lives

It has been this way for years

Though many would doubt this truth

Some are greedy, but most are simply ignorant

Those who worship the sea monster believe in its purpose

They did before, and they still do, even now

They think they have it contained

They think they had it tamed

They refuse to see how destructive the monster is

Even when it’s doing as they command

Fish are drawn to its pretty colors

Birds try to rest upon its back

It snatches them up, and spits them back out

They are never the same

The darkness is on them forever, unless someone like me comes along

Only we are compelled to help them

Only we are willing to take the time

Now the monster is on a rampage

Now it is spreading its darkness indiscriminately

Now those who would harness its power admit that something is wrong

But they are powerless to stop it, or so they say

We continue to save the creatures

But we are indeed powerless to stop it

Only they can stop the monster

Only they can put it back in its cage

I want to do more

I want to kill it, so it can do no more harm to my world

But it cannot be killed

Destroying it would do just as much damage as it is doing now

Destroying it would simply spread more darkness

The fight against the sea monster must take place on land

It takes place in the courts, and on the pages of the news

It takes place in the hearts of all who would oppose the monster

These companies believe that the monster will provide

But it is we who provide

And it is we who can starve them

Microstory 1588: Inside Rain

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Prompt

It’s raining inside my house

There’s not a hole in the roof, or anything

There just appears to be a magical tiny cloud in here

Full of rain

Botner

I’ll turn on the lights

It’s nothing

“There it is again. There’s rain in here”

There are streams of tiny droplets flying around inside my house

There are rivulets running from the sink

The ceiling fan is swirling

It is pouring water outside, but inside, the rain doesn’t stop

The amount of rain isn’t right for the space

It’s somehow magically getting sucked in here

There’s a web of tiny clear water drops suspended in the air in the kitchen

There are tiny strands of electric current floating in the air

Between my hands and the lights

It’s raining inside my house, and I can’t turn it off

I am hopelessly lost, unable to find the source of the rain

I am losing control

I am at war

This is what it’s like to have a migraine

I’m screaming at people, but they’re no longer there

The world is completely warped

I start bleeding from the eyes

They feel like they’re about to fall out

I’m so confused, I can’t find the words

There’s a carpet of sunflowers with tiny flecks of...

Conclusion

...of diamonds and gold

It’s money I can’t use

I won’t

It’s raining inside my house, and I don’t want it to stop

It washes away my past

It clears a way to the future

“You have to get your house in order,” they say

Well here I am, I’m doing it

I’m cleaning

I’m letting go of everything holding me back

I couldn’t do it better myself if I tried

Nothing is as powerful as this

As exacting

As relentless

It’s raining inside my house

And when it stops, I will be free

Microstory 1529: Conclusion to Poems

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I wanted to take a moment to reflect on these last several weeks

I wrote my poetry a little different than most

Sometimes it landed

Sometimes not

Do I regret it?

No, I wouldn’t say that

I think it just reinforced my beliefs

I am not a poet, and I never will be, even if I were to try harder

Do not mistake my resignation as some kind of depressive realization

I’m fine with what kind of writer I am

And what kind I’m not

I like prose

I always have

I prefer the video formats

But until I catch my big Hollywood break

I’m going to stick with my website, and keep trying to tell good stories

This does not mean that I will no longer be doing experimental formats

I will keep challenging myself, and my audience

In whatever way that goes

However small

Or unimpressive

I will keep making content

Not simply for the sake of putting my stuff out there

Because writing is the only thing I truly know how to do, and I can’t stop

Microstory 1528: They Call Me

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My friends call me Limerick

And do you want to know why?

It’s because that’s my name

My parents are both poets

Or rather, that’s what they call themselves

They call me The Bard

My father manufactures paper clips

And my mother clips paper, up in the paper clip factory office

And what am I?

What did I become?

Nothing, really, if you can believe it

I don’t care much about anything but drinking

And sleeping

And fighting

Why, if I could do all three of those at once

I would be in heaven

They call me the Fighting Irishman

Because I’m always getting into fights

And they assume I’m Irish

But that would be stupid, wouldn’t it?

You wouldn’t name someone after the place they live?

I guess that’s not that stupid

It’s more just not true about me

My therapist has asked me to write down my feelings

My feelings about my family

About my habits

And to do it in a poem

He calls me The Problem Patient

But he doesn’t know I know that

I tried to make this rhyme, but I can’t do it

So now I’m just telling you my story

Broken into short lines

Is that how poetry works?

I wouldn’t know, I don’t care for it

All I care about is all I have

And I’ve no intention of changing my behavior

They can arrest me all they want, but I won’t stop

This is who I am, and I’m happy with it

And if you try to lock me up, I will punch myself free

Because that’s what I do

They call me The Pugilist

Microstory 1527: Fighting Against an Enemy I Have Always Known

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I grew up oppressed

Amongst an oppressed people

In a world of desolation

What I have learned is that we are rare

Most worlds touched by the enemy are destroyed

We were spared, but not for the better

The others, they feel no more pain

Their lives are over, but they do not know that

Many did not even know it was going to end

They blinked, and it was done

They were done

I’m not saying they’re the lucky ones

I can still fight

There is still a chance to save my world

To make it a better place

For me, my family, and my descendants

But it is hard

We are not in a war

It is a rebellion

And rebellions are slow, and unpopular

Like climbing a wall with no summit

A war is easy

There’s one group on one side

Another on the other

Maybe there are more belligerents

But it is still simple

Sides fight against sides, and the winner is clear

In a rebellion, there are no sides

There are just people who oppress

And people who are oppressed

And in that second group, you have me

I am the resistant oppressed

I fight against the status quo

I fight for those who can’t

I live with them, but I am not them

They do not wish for me to lose

But they wish for me not to try

The oppression is bad, but it is stable

We slave for our enemy, but we survive

It could always be worse, and the rebellion risks that

The rebellion worries the oppressed

For if things are this bad without the resistance

How bad will they get if the enemy finds out about me?

What will they do to me once they know?

More importantly, what will they do to the other oppressed?

Am I saving them by rebelling?

Or am I just putting them in more danger?

Am I really fighting an enemy?

Or have I already lost?