Coffee and Contemplation: Been on Hiatus

I spent November away from blog posts. I had a lot of work, personal issues, and challenges with which to contend. The personal matters I won’t get into. I’ve had a lot of work. Some of this was hourly jobs. I have three part-time jobs trying to make ends meet. This took up a lot of personal time and a lot of writing time. I also manage social media for a local company, and they had a lot happening over the last two months. I’ve been a busy bee and chose to back off from the blog work for a while.

I had also planned on releasing another book on November 19 and I’ve had to push that back to December. I didn’t have time to format the book but it’s almost ready and I’ll have an official announcement soon. This will be a collection of personal nonfiction writing. I’ve compiled blog posts I’ve written for the last two years on many websites. I’m looking forward to it. It will be a smaller book. I may do more blog writing in the future and create another volume. I haven’t planned that far ahead yet. But I’m excited to complete another project.

This book will come out at the right time. In January, I have a show in the Tucson Fringe Performing Arts Festival. I’ll share some personal stories and poetry in a live performance. I’ll have more details on this as they arise. I’m sharing some poems from my book “Men Are Garbage” and sharing the stories behind some of them. Some of those stories will be in my collection of blog writing. This will be a nice taste of what each book has to offer. The goal is to inspire people to buy the books or at least tell their friends about my work.

I plan to release another collection of poetry in January. I’ve finished writing the poems. I have not begun formatting the book. I do have a cover made. If all goes well, this will release in late January. More details on that as we move closer to the new year. You can read some of that unpublished poetry by becoming a patron on my Patreon Page. For $1 a month you’ll have access to weekly posts featuring unpublished poetry. You can cancel at any time. I may even post unpublished poems more often if there is a demand for this.

The biggest contribution to my hiatus was the National Novel Writing Month Challenge. NaNoWriMo 2019. The goal is to write 50,000 words in 30 days. I did this two years ago and succeeded. I tried again this year and am far behind. I did not hit my goal, but I will continue writing my first full length novel. My total word count for the book is 85,000 to 90,000 words. I’ll keep writing until it’s finished no matter how long it takes. With how busy I’ve been, I’m surprised I wrote as much as I did. 

Starting in December, I’ll return to my regular weekly poetry posts. I’m having a Cyber Monday sale on December 2, 2019. I’ll post more about that and what items are on sale. This will only feature eBooks on Amazon. More details to come. I will say I appreciate any comments on my posts. I often do not get much feedback for my writing. With how much I write, I’m at a point where I need some encouragement and support to keep going. I also need some new ideas for the blog. Or to at least change my approach on what I already do. More to come.

Throwback Thursday Poetry: A Child’s Nightmare

Happy Halloween!

“time for bed”
my mother said
“you have school in the morning”
she tucked me in
kissed me then
crept away silently
i laid there for a bit
and then the feeling hit
something was watching me
i sat up rather quick
turned the light on which lit
my room and i saw nothing
with a sense of relief
i try to go to sleep
but alas i still feel eerie
over to the closet i sneak
and i hear the door creak
then dive back in bed like a swimmer
oh it’s just the cat
“get out of here Matt”
it’s calm in my room once again
the closet door flies
and something skulks in
in fear i throw the covers over my head
i hear something breathing
i feel my heart racing
i hope i’m just dreaming again
the blankets get yanked off
in the air i am tossed
i land on the floor and crawl under the bed
something grazed my coat
my heart is in my throat
there’s something walking towards me
it’s feet have claws
which probably slice logs
it’s skin is slimy and black
i’m screaming in fear
but nobody hears
and the creature tries to grab me
another comes from the side
and another from behind
they drag me back to the closet from which they came
it’s dark in this place
can’t see my hand on my face
and several monsters are above me
their mouths are wet and slimy
“MOMMY!” i am crying
and like hungry lions they begin to feast

Early poetry from James. From the poetry collection Pariah Bound: The Lonesome Poetry.

Twofer Tuesday Poetry: Steve’s General Store & A Thought

Steve’s General Store

It’s a pit-stop store just outside of town.
Steve is the robot that works the counter.
With this job, a human would have a frown.
They all died; it’s been one hundred winters.
Steve carries on like a machine would do.
He completes his duties and tasks with ease.
Better work would only be done by few.
To pass the time, he straightens the pulleys.
A bell rings as someone enters the shop.
A young machine just under a meter.
He requests an oil can for his pop.
Steve picks up one from behind to barter.
The small mechanoid counts out some silver;
Into Steve’s hand, the robot delivers.

A Thought

Jumping – to-and-fro – 
Never lingering
To avoid – stagnation – 
Going everywhere
Going nowhere

Traveling through time
Bringing pleasure
Bringing pain – 
Oh pain
The great reminder – 

To be random
Is to daydream
To dream
Is to be free
But never free of me

Expert planning – 
Nefarious plotting – 
Forgetting where you left
Your keys – the ignition – 
The day started poorly

Whisked away
And forgotten
Only to be filled
Replaced – 
By another

Manifesting
As dreams – nightmares – 
Powered by a muse
A demon
Perhaps both – 

Do you
Control me – 
Or I you – 
The brain the mind the soul
What are we – 

Sometimes
You can’t trust me
When emotions are high
And self-esteem – low – 
I wouldn’t trust me – 

It’s harder for me
To disappear when you – 
Write me down – down – 
I don’t think I’ve
Ever gone up

Other times
You want to forget me
But – I don’t leave – 
Those are bad days – 
Haunted – by memories –

From the poetry collection Men Are Garbage.