Two Franks with Mustard and Musings

Challenge accepted!

2014-05-10T20:23:00.000-07:00

Here are some six word stories, and yes it's a Saturday. I guess you can say this is a coincidence and an unofficial reboot of six word Saturdays.

My girlfriend sent me a link to 20 Six-Word Stories That Are Absolutely Heart-Breaking. So I thought I would challenge myself and write some six word stories. This is what came out.

I drink black, there's his creamer.

Toothbrush is more alone than me.

Saved for a car he can't drive.

Gift for sister: our unused crib?

Exclamation Point

2014-05-07T12:10:00.001-07:00

I was watching another Sarah Kay poem and her lines inspired this poem. The specific portion of her poem is from 2:12-2:30. But I highly recommend watching the whole thing.

I have been taught to be an exclamation point.
To be loud
To fill up rooms
To stand out.

I am told to interject,
To fill pauses and express myself
even if it means interrupting.

I have insistent imperatives that you need to hear.
This is my duty and responsibility
This is how I’ve been trained.
I am an exclamation point
so I declare and proclaim.

But it is unnatural for me to straighten up
most times I want to curl over into a question mark.
I like asking questions and making room for pauses
filling them with others’ responses
Not my own.

Exclamation points bully their way into conversation,
They are woolly mammoths trampling over sentences
barging in, always having to insert themselves.
Yelling over others
and telling them what to do.

I just want to ask more than answer
I want to understand rather than implore.
Is it okay I question being an exclamation point?

30/30: Poem 1

2014-04-03T19:46:00.000-07:00

April is National Poetry Month. To celebrate there is a tradition, a challenge more like it, that some poets try to write 30 poems in 30 days. Ideally one is supposed to write a poem a day, but since this is my first time trying 30/30, I'm going to cheat a little and just try to write 30 poems by the end of April. So here goes nothing.

Why is it so hard for me to stand up straight?
To raise my rib cage
pull back my shoulders.
Whenever I walk
why do I curl over like a question mark?
Staring at my feet wondering where I should step
making sure they're set.
I've been trained to be an exclamation point
but is it okay it feels so unnatural
so cumbersome.
My body isn't use to it,
maybe it never will.

Yay for writing prompts!

2014-01-25T18:01:00.000-08:00

My girlfriend got me a book of writing prompts/things to write about as a gift. I figured I would use it to help me in a new year resolution (to write more) since I haven't written in what seems like ages. I don't think I'm gonna write the actual prompt because that might be plagiarism but I will write the results of the prompt.

A good moment can turn sour or a ruined moment can end up tender
a (what you thought was a long forgotten) regret could pop into your head
or you could silently remember something funny and weirdly laugh by yourself
a blink
a hesitation pause
a sigh
time travel to a memory
your mind is wiped clean of the awesome dream you were having
having a mini panic attack because you thought you lost your phone and/or wallet
you can sleep the night away

A list

2013-09-24T21:14:00.001-07:00

Things I forgot about NYC

City sounds and noises are constant and everywhere (ie I forgot I can sleep through sirens and honking)
The sheer number and diversity of the city
How humid it is, especially the subway
That 5 year olds are better dressed than me
Phrases I take for granted like thank you go a long way
No matter how hard I try to "be a New Yorker", Grand Central makes me a tourist and I look up
How quickly tourists can be irritating
The endless supply of good food
Subway rush hour is usually faster, there's just a lot more people

Midnight musical inspiration

2013-05-19T01:40:00.000-07:00

It's Saturday night, well technically Sunday morning and listening to some music and I was inspired.

Torn doll. Waiting to be fixed.

Lemonade stand everyone passes, even dad.

Blowing bubbles and dandelions means Spring.

Late night scribbles

2013-03-05T00:34:00.003-08:00

I don't write nearly enough letters.

What happened to the love song?

I will admit it, I miss mixtapes and letters. I miss lan lines. I miss spending hours going through my music collection trying to find that one perfect song for a mixtape. Not just copying and pasting my whole collection onto a CD or a flash drive. I miss sending and receiving hand written letters. Having to check the mail, opening those letters that had typos, struck out words and white out. I miss having to run when you heard the ring so you could beat your parents to the phone. I miss phone calls that had to be interrupted because someone else had to use the phone. I miss having to pick up the phone to found out who it was that's calling.

Call me old fashioned. You might even call me a hipster because I sound like mp3s and emails are "too mainstream". But don't forget I am a child of the 90's. I am a child of the intentional. I don't miss the things of my childhood/adolescence for the sake of missing them or for nostalgia. I miss mixtapes, letters, and lan lines for the secrets they once held. I miss the secret of mixtapes. The secret of how time it took to create it. I miss that letters reveal more than emails and messages. Writing a letter might mean my hand writing is ugly but I don't mind because this letter is worth being sent. I miss what it took to make a call or take one. The fear a parent might pick up, running the risk of sounding like a fool. Even after the fact you mutter the words "Can I talk to so-and-so?", someone might still be listening on the other line hearing every word. Or knowing these fears and calling again when no one picked up the first time. I miss what these things of my growing up meant.

Time to write a list

2013-01-24T23:09:00.000-08:00

I was on my flight back to Oregon. It was a night flight out of JFK. Thankfully I had a window seat. All the plastic blinds were down, so I decided to lift mine. I wanted to watch the take off. I wanted to see NYC from the sky. The millions of city lights against a back drop of darkness, not sure if we are flying over the East River or the Hudson. Then the thought hit me, I never want to grow out of being amazed during a take off or landing. I never want to grow too old to wonder what a city looks like from the sky. I don't want to lose my awe of flight.

I thought of other things I never wanted to get too old for. I started a list. Writing out lists is something I learned from Sarah Kay (a spoken word poet I have shared about at least once before). You can watch her TED talk here. She starts talking about lists around the 8:45 mark.

Things I never want to get too old for:

I never want to get too old to eat funnel cake and cotton candy
I don't want to get too old to run up the opposite direction of an escalator (even though I've had my fair share of run ins with mall cops and building security guards)
I don't want to grow out of eating kid's meals
I never want to get too old to play in the snow (including but not limited to snowball fights, snow angels, and trying to catch snow flakes in my mouth)
I don't want to ever not have the time to just relax and listen to a good album.
I never want to grow too told to read Calvin and Hobbes

It's a new year...

2013-01-07T21:32:00.000-08:00

and this is my first post. I know I should have written one sooner, my bad. But here's the first six word story of 2013.

Can't we dance like nobody's watching?

(inspired by this video on the internet)

A couple (very) short stories

2012-11-10T23:11:00.000-08:00

I know I missed a couple six word story Saturdays. My apologies. But this week is kind of a continuation from my six word stories of a couple weeks ago.

You know how I wrote those six word stories about the little things? The little things we notice, observe, adore in others. Well my brain took it one step further. Apparently my brain couldn't drop the topic and so I wrote a couple (very) short stories from some ideas from those six word stories. I hope you enjoy.

It's Sunday night and the game is about to start. Full from dinner and already in his sweats, he offers to help her with the dishes but she just tells him to enjoy the game. She hears rustling in the tv room. She giggles from the kitchen as he struggles to tuck and cover his cold feet into his pant legs. "Why don't you go get socks?" "I'll get them at halftime." She sighs and rolls her eyes just a little, knowing how superstitious he is about missing any part of the game. She dries her hands and the kitchen goes silent. A wad of socks hits him in the side. He turns and smiles at her as she walks by, before he quickly reverts his attention back to the tv while unballing the socks. She lets out a confident smirk as she goes back to the kitchen to finish the dishes.

The morning chill creeps up our legs as we get out of bed, tingling our bodies with goosebumps. I go to make some coffee while she jumps into the shower. I know she's going to use most of the hot water, but that thought gets replaced by the weather. It's wet and gloomy today. On a day like today, you can hear the water gurgle down the gutter on the side of our building. The kind of day I don't mind, but she really seems to savor. Maybe it's the stillness or the rain muffling the city sounds. Maybe it's just an excuse for her to stay inside today. The shower stops running and I know it's about my turn to use whatever hot water is left. Before I head back to the bedroom I set her blanket, her book, and a coaster by the bay window. It's her favorite way of savoring a day like today.

A Series of Six Word Stories

2012-10-17T17:58:00.000-07:00

Whenever I try to write, it seems like my brain defaults to thinking up six word stories. More often than not, a six word story is the first thing that comes to mind when I sit down with pen and paper. I don't know if this is a good thing or a bad thing.

This time I guess it was a good thing because I ended up with more stories than usual. It also ended up being a series of six word stories. The stories were following a brainwave I was having at the time.

As a writer, we are always taught that details make a world of difference. It's been drilled in my mind over and over during my writing classes that concrete details are vital. That it is "better to show than to tell." Well I wanted to do that with an abstract concept that gets written about all the time. Love. I wanted to experiment with different ways to show love. So this is what came out of my "experiment". Some of these will be redundant, I just couldn't decide which story I liked better so I kept them all for now.

Making her coffee how she likes.

Two dabs of cologne, not three.

Three sugars. Whole milk, not cremer.

Hung shirts, folded pants, rolled socks.

OJ with breakfast, tea with crosswords.

Must remember: fold shirts, hang pants.

Another poem and story

2012-09-09T21:32:00.000-07:00

First I wanted to share a poem I recently found. I was watching poetry performances the other day and I came across this powerful piece. I hope it resonates with you, because it did with me. It's Jared Singer's How I learned my ABC's performed at the Urbana Poetry Slam.

Don't go gently yet. Rage, rage.

Yes I know I just copied Dylan Thomas, but it's the only thing that could come to mind. It's just too good not to use. Here is Dylan Thomas' Do not go gentle into that good night. It actually has an audio clip of him reading his poem, I think it made me like the poem even more.

New six word story

2012-09-02T16:07:00.001-07:00

I know this is a day late, so forgive me. In addition to a six word story I wanted to post a spoken word poem I liked. I might do more of this, just to share some poems I have read/seen. I am all for sharing art and hopefully help spread poetry.

This is an older poem as seen on Def Poetry Jam, but I enjoy watching and hearing every so often. It's Daniel Beaty's "Knock Knock".

Quiet mouth, screaming soul. Shared burden?

It's been awhile...

2012-08-18T12:40:00.002-07:00

I know I haven't written in a while. But I finally wrote another six word story.

He talks to floors, not faces.

Something's Wrong With This Picture

2012-07-23T01:33:00.000-07:00

So normally this blog is just a place to post some of my poems and pieces. This post is going to be a bit different. Just letting you know, this is going to be an opinion piece. So be warned.

I want to write about this whole Penn State situation. No I am not going to write about what you probably think I am going to write about. A few hours ago I heard the news that the NCAA is going to hand out "punitive measures", supposedly the announcement is at 9am EST.

I am not for or against punitive measures. I am not here to argue that the NCAA should or should not hand out punishments, or that Penn State does or does not deserve them. My issue (from the few articles I read so far) is how the whole thing is being handled.

As I have been reading some articles, the point has been brought up that what the NCAA is doing is unprecedented. The NCAA and its infraction committee have only punished schools for breaking NCAA bylaws and for gaining a competitive edge unfairly. For example providing financial incentives i.e. bribing and paying off student athletes to come to their school instead of another school. It's unheard of for the NCAA to punish a university for something not specific in the NCAA bylaws, in this case punishing Penn State for violations of morality and moral wrongdoings.

It's not only unprecedented of what the NCAA is punishing for, but also how quickly the NCAA is acting and the process they are using, which in this instance is no process. The NCAA has a standard set of procedures when they are about to hand out punitive measures. The NCAA normally has its own investigation, issues allegations to the university in question, then allows the university to respond before the hearing with the Committee on Infractions. However, this time around the NCAA is completely ignoring its own procedures and process.

"The NCAA is taking unprecedented measures with the decision to penalize Penn State without the due process of a Committee on Infractions hearing." -ESPN article

"The NCAA official said both the board of directors, comprised of 22 university presidents and chancellors, and the executive committee had directed [NCAA President] Emmert to look into the Penn State case and to offer recommendations on penalties, which he did. Emmert received broad approval from both groups, the official said, to impose sanctions and bypass the usual investigation process." -Eric Prisbell's USA Today Article

"The N.C.A.A. board of directors’ decision to go outside its usual process for dealing with infractions, forgoing a long investigation, and authorize sanctions based on the findings of an outside investigation is considered unprecedented." -Pete Thamel and Zach Schonbrun's NY Times Article

So the NCAA is ignoring its own due process in order to punish Penn State and its officials for not following due process in reporting the crimes that were happening on campus. How does this make sense?

Allegedly Joe Paterno and other officials of Penn State, at most covered up what was happening and at least didn't follow the proper channels and procedure to report what was going on. These Penn State officials had a due process and had a procedure they should have followed in order to report and hopefully stop these crimes.

Now the NCAA wants to punish the university for these officials that didn't obey the procedure, by disregarding NCAA's own due process. The NCAA is committing the same thing that these officials did.

One could argue that "this is different." Or that what the NCAA is doing is clearly not as bad as what the Penn State officials did. One could argue the severity, consequences, and/or degrees of difference between the officials not following the due process and NCAA not following its due process. Either way, doesn't it seem just a little fishy? Just a little off?

Can you really call it "justice" when the NCAA is committing the same crime that it's punishing Penn State for? Don't get me wrong, punishments were and are expected. Penn State probably does deserve some level of "punitive measures" but is it fair that these measures and punishments are essentially a knee jerk reaction to everything that's going on?

Not to rationalize or justify or condone, but couldn't what the Penn State officials did be considered a knee jerk reaction? They allegedly wanted to protect the university. They chose a horrible course of action, but they followed their initial response instead of following the due process of reporting the crimes.

Shouldn't the NCAA do better? I believe the NCAA can't fall into the same trap. The Penn State officials chose to throw away due process in favor of listening to their guts. The NCAA needs to be better than that. If the NCAA really wants to set an example, they need to do what the officials couldn't. The NCAA needs to respect the authority of due process.

The NCAA can't just throw away due process for the sake of handing out punishment because public opinion wants it to happen. Or give out punitive measures in hopes that the Penn State scandal will be settled and fade from the news cycle and public eye.

The officials rejected due process and covered up the crimes in hopes that it would all just go away. I really hope that the NCAA is not rejecting due process in the same matter in hopes that punishments will make this all just disappear.

It's Saturday

2012-06-23T21:32:00.001-07:00

It's Saturday and you know what that means.

I wish I could tell her.

Sometimes, just need people to listen.

Crying alone, wish it wasn't so.

A disappointment

2012-06-17T00:04:00.003-07:00

I know it's not technically Saturday anymore. I had a busy day and didn't get a chance to post earlier. Also I am sorry to let you know but I only have one story this time.

Wishes once wished, can't be undone.

Not really a story, in my head it sounds more like a fortune cookie which is lame I know. It's the best I could come up with. I will try to do better next week.

Some more stories

2012-06-02T14:06:00.000-07:00

I know I missed last week. I am sorry. I know this won't make up for last week, but at least I am back on track. Hopefully you enjoy this week's batch of six word stories.

Mixtape life is full of surprises.

Prefer the yelling or the silence?

Worn out shoes; worn out feet.

This last six word story I had some trouble with. I had a few variations of it, and none of them really sat right. I eventually settled on this version.

His choice. Not to be loved.

Another batch

2012-05-19T20:30:00.001-07:00

Of six word stories. Just letting you know I am not too proud of these but hopefully they are okay.

Sometimes, I don't know what helps.

He want to forget his origins.

Story time

2012-05-13T00:39:00.001-07:00

Here's another entry to my Six Word Story Saturdays:

Warm nights remind me of you.

Left with memories and shoe box.

Mothball scent overwhelms this empty room.

Comforted tears are no longer comforted.

Two weeks in a row!

2012-05-05T22:33:00.002-07:00

Yay, I am writing something for the second week in a row. I wrote a couple six word stories in the morning today, but me being me I forgot to write them down. So I had to write new ones, and thankfully this time I remembered them.

Soap does not wash away everything.

All I have: box of receipts.

Can't sleep...

2012-04-29T02:06:00.000-07:00

So I am writing for the first time in a long time. For some reason, my mind decided to come up with another six word story.

Her patience, I could never repay.

Earlier this week I was toying with some ideas to help me write more (and more consistently) and to make better use of my blog. I was thinking about dubbing Saturdays as Six Word Story Saturday. Then I thought six word stories might be a cop out and thought about doing Flash Fiction Fridays (I have a thing for alliteration, you'll just have to get used to it). Since I decided to write a six word story on a Saturday, I guess I will do Six Word Story Saturdays.

Another story I wrote earlier this week but I wanted to share:

Words logjam like traffic in LA.

Snow

2012-03-01T00:19:00.001-08:00

So it is snowing today, March 1. Yup that's how the weather rolls in Oregon. I'm not complaining, I like the snow. As I was standing in the snow I had a random thought/note/line.

Snow falling on my rain coat sounds like the crinkling of tiny plastic bags.

Enough is enough

2011-12-08T23:40:00.001-08:00

Okay that's it. I haven't anything on this blog for several months. I still have writer's block but I am forcing myself to write something, anything tonight. So here goes nothing. It's just a matter of what will I write...right now all I can think of is a six word story.

Empty of confidence like used toothpaste.

Maybe that's the real reason I haven't been able to write anything, I just didn't feel good about it. Maybe I wasn't convinced it was worth writing. Hold that thought, something else is coming to mind.

I see flares of lightning and hear peals of thunder.
The air rumbles and the house shakes
but that's the thing.
I am inside, under cover, in shelter.
Why am I afraid?
Why am I covering my head under the sheets?
These walls and roof held up in previous storms
why would it be any different now?

New Poem in long while

2011-05-19T11:19:00.007-07:00

So I finally got over my writer's block and this is what came out. I don't particularly like the ending, but it's what I could think up. I figured having some kind of end would be better than having none.

What are eye boogers?

Are they the residue of forgotten dreams?

Dreams that fell out of our minds

and into our tear ducts?

Maybe eye boogers are how our body grieves

the loss of the best part of our night.

Maybe we were meant to fly but only in our dreams

and eye boogers are wing clipped dreams that never took off.

Or are eye boogers the apparition of immigrant tears?

Immigrant tears as my parents left everything they knew behind,

with fear welling up in their eyes

only to fall into mine years later in the form of eye boogers.

Or maybe they are the tears of disappointment?

Knowing they left everything behind in vain.

“What could have been” quickly becomes “what should have been”,

as their son loses his mother tongue one eye booger at a time.

Could eye boogers be the unresolved stress of the day before?

Unsettled matters that had no home,

no room in our heads,

no place on our hearts.

Or perhaps, swallowed words and withheld thoughts

that had no way out

other than as eye boogers.

Whatever eye boogers are,

whether unfulfilled dreams, unmet expectations, or unfinished business;

we all have to learn to clean up the debris.