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Discussion in 'Tall Tales & Fabrications' started by Bill Boggs, Jul 18, 2017.
Time has expired. Please deposit another nickel.
...lost theater tickets!
@Bill Boggs , I don't have another nickel. I'm down to my last penny. Will that work?
How about a plug nickel?
What Might Have Been or Will Be
How fortunate you are to be a writer who is on good terms
with her muse, and be the poet touched with a gift
of language and poetic insight, Even blessed with a touch
of psychic ability. For there is available to you a stream
of knowledge, energy flowing through the air akin to radio
waves. This field of knowledge encircles the globe and consists
of all knowledge that ever was. It is the energy shed by all
souls departing since first man, left on deposit, available to all
who follow, ready to be tapped and utilized when needed.
The key to knowledge is locked away in the right brain and can
be activated by thoughtful meditation, close communion with
the muse, or dogged, grueling repetitive research. Can we know
and learn what the muses and psychic tendencies brew up by the
stories we tell? Or what bright splashes of color energize our poetry
as we stand in the grand cathedral, and watch greatness at work.
We have touched this energy field, felt it surge through bodies,
the brain swelled with exurbance and excitement, the muse
working overtime, the hands can not keep up.
Life was happening, much to tell. Think of it. You, your muse,
your psychic all working together, pounding out sheet after sheet,
story after story, oh glorious possibilities. When out of the blue
it happens. The muse takes a break, gets a cup of tea, walks by,
that magical mirror that goes back and forth in time, says look
at yourself, old and wrinkled, can't write. Stop right there. Muses
are fickle, come and go like the tide. With the right brain, tap
into that other source of electrical energy. Communing with the
energy of those past. It will re-charge the mind.
Sitting alone, hearing far off waves lapping some distant shore,
knowing you are at peace with your own essence, pondering all
possibilities and what is yet to be and life waiting to be told.