Usual morning. Same time. Same place. Same street.
Cars and SUV’s stream along like traveling soldier ants; Forever moving along, behind the one in front of them and in front of the one behind them. Each somehow totally unaware of that mysterious moment in time , when all (including them) transformed into one continuous automatically moving machine. ….Trudging connected and steadily along to carry forth the familiar role and identical performance required for that day. No one actually seems to know for sure anymore or considers asking why- they’re traveling in this manner or in this particular direction -at all.

Coffee’s inside the warm kitchen and the little running shaggy dog is outside. Silent time for me. With wild tossled hair, rumpled shirt and socks, and sleepy eyes willing only to focus- slightly. I ease into pondering a wandering brook of thoughts…and also into perfecting the special art of procrastination as best I can. Various methods and little tricks learned, in order to hold back the inevitable entrance into the “soldier ant” parade.

Slowly sipping dark magical hot coffee as soothing warmth drifts up from the giant cup held closely to my chin. Coffee aromas of moist warm steam clouds cover my eyes and lashes.

Morning Blessings from the “Nectar of the Gods”

Thoughts keep meandering but cautiously tread toward -more focus- more attention……to-details.
Work. What’s due? Looks sunny today. Laundry pile still there. Academy awards is on tonight. . The Car tune up-- Gotta do that this week. “Slumdog Millionaire” best movie I’ve seen in awhile.
Tasks roll along into lists - in between - passing coffee clouds.


Cell phone.
Shit!
An—irritating— little mosquito-- joy song.
Apple itunes cutting up the soft quiet air and melancholy coffee.

Vibrating “electronic happy” -spaced out- “tings in rhythms”
Just Ignore it.

I could but……
and
Where Exactly Is the friggin little Cell?

Electronic happy “tings in rhythms”…..”tings in rhythms”
“”
ok . OK. Shit! -(replies to the nagging urges pushing)- -
Get it. Find it. – You better move—– before it stops.

Coffee cup of steaming clouds in hand- stepping around and over the laundry pile to track down
Find and kill…..the “tunes of the dawn”…..


Its coming from the living room….. The couch?

No.

Cheery notes –repeating- stanzas “tings in rhythms” .
“TINGS Of Rhythms” IN the AIR.

Leather chair ? –

Yes.

“TINGS IN RHYTHMS” “TINGS IN RHYTHMS”
But Where?! Side of the cushions? No. Folds of the Blanket on the chair? No

oh
Underneath-
the leather chair.


The Samsung 6180 Flip Model Phone.
-Hello-.

Hello, I am new to your group and have posted Samsung to gather responses and ideas! This writing is not actually intended as poetry, but as the beginning of a short "story" or ? whatever it evolves into.

Have enjoyed reading many poems and thoughts here.
Thanks,
maff52

Okay, I read "Samsung", and since you've placed it in workshop, here are my workshop-thoughts:

Writing good prose is a bit like fishing. You've got to place enticing bait on the end of the hook to lure a fish to investigate and hopefully bite. If the bait is stale or boring, the fish won't bite. "Samsung" --for me-- seemed to have little purpose and did little to provoke my curiosity. What's so interesting about a cell phone that can't be found? Now if the speaker were expecting someone special or infamous or important to call, then the inability to locate the phone might become more significant. As it was, "Samsung" lacked the power to draw the reader in and want to continue reading.

My recommendation is to do much more reading of good prose... the kind that entices you, provokes your curiosity, or moves you emotionally. The more you read good literature, the more confident you'll perhaps become in writing with strength.

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The opposite of joy is not sorrow. It is unbelief. ~ Leslie Weatherhead
Picture me with my ground teeth stalking joy--fully armed too, as it's a highly dangerous quest. ~ Flannery O'Connor