Love Affair

I love writing and I write for a living.  Yet, I still find myself compelled to use words to channel whatever muses are flirting with me at the moment.  I have an on-going love affair with. . .words.  So, really, I write to live and live to write.  My life force cannot be divorced from getting down onto paper whatever must be there.  It’s pure survival for me.  If I’m not near my laptop, I’m scribbling thoughts onto paper.  If no paper is present, I improvise and write on my hand.  I have sat on a beach with the beautiful, soflo sun shining overhead and, having forgotten my pen, used my phone to text myself bits of prose that popped into my head.  If there was a way to write while in the shower, I’d do so.  Then there would be no need to try and remember what it was that came to me while shampooing my hair.  Blogging is relatively new to me and I like it.  It’s nice to occupy a piece of cyber space and express oneself.  It is weird knowing anyone can read whatever is written (since I know some off the wall people) but those people do not mean anything to me (therefore, who cares)!  There is much more I would like to write but am unable to because of life’s circumstances.  This currently unpublished material should land me a gig as a script writer for Lifetime.  In the meantime, some of the words I tap, scratch, and text into existence get published through this venue.  Others do not.  Blog world, readers, friends, and loved ones, welcome.  I’m honored and happy you came.  Do stay for a bit.  Kick off your shoes, settle yourself on my couch, and enjoy a great cup of coffee.   Sugar or creamer, anyone?

Portfolio

she was liquid convertible
bought then sold “securities”
a word not recognized in
her metaphysical vocabulary

terms tossed about like
paper airplanes aimed here
there nose diving into sharp
dips and crumpled equities

result of losses maybe wobbles
in her investor’s confidence or
possibly sheer panic either way
equilibrium shoved off kilter

she was left to question her
worth she realized she was an
asset her price immeasurable
by Wall Street’s standards

he was hit hard when he traded
stock privatized that plummeted
her market value though
rose to astronomical heights

~Pamela 

Rock, Paper, Scissors, Shoot!

As children, we discovered a way of resolving everything– which friends we’d sit next to at lunch, who used the 8 ball first, who got the last piece of gum and who had to dial the phone and ask to speak to the cute boy we were obsessed with at the time. It was rock, paper, scissors, shoot!

As a mother, this method is still employed. In fact, it was just used to determine whose turn it was to get in the shower first. It’s incredible. Four hands and a decision. Bam!

I’m convinced therapists everywhere would recommend this for everyone. You and your spouse are arguing about whose turn it is to get up in the middle of the night with the baby–rock, paper, scissors. Kids fighting about whose turn it is to take out the trash? Rock, paper, scissors. Dems and Republicans debating economic solutions? Rock, paper, scissors.

Some people will be sore losers but, hey! Fair is fair, right?  Try it and see if it doesn’t bring a little more calm into your life. Who knows? World peace? Less nukes? More love?