2025.01
Morning journal posts from January 2025
Gray is a Vague Grey
2025.01.31
January 31, 2025
Good morning, that wonderful way.
O/ What's new?
How'd yesterday do?
Meet your expectations?
Exceed them?
Either way, it's a new day.
Let's go, on with the show.
...
The world is fast, slow, moderate;
It's your view.
Hot, cold, temperate, considerate;
Consider it.
The experience of time is subjective.
Slow words so far today.
Loop the lines, sunshine times.
Pale dark sunrise so far.
Winter can be so cold with its light.
...
Most years I take the seasons as they come. This year I look forward to Spring.
Let's get the growing going, time to get your green light glowing.
Gray on the traffic lights today.
Best treat it as a red, a yellow at least.
Gray is a vague grey, doesn't even know how to spell itself.
Perhaps its definition that slows the words this morning.
Perhaps perhaps is the sky's grey.
What to do with the day? How to dress?
Umbrella, parka, no coat sunshine,
Muck boots, flip-flops, around the house socks time?
Melancholy is for the birds; it's why ravens sing never-more,
But why be stuck in a depression when you can always-soar?
Slow words so far, slow song.
So we dance, we fly the rhythm of the day.
¡Olé!
Watch your step, not your feet.
Look up.
The sky is there with your hopes, you dreams, your destination home.
Take care and have your better day.
+he Ghos+
The Instrument
2025.01.30
January 30, 2025
Good morning, that wonderful way.
O/ Hello, again.
Welcome back to another installment of Wonderful Ways: The great ways to start your days.
Hope all is well.
On with the show.
...
Transition day, something in the air. A positive one.
They're all positive; they're all for growth. Some lessons are best learned with a calm, peaceful, cheerful spirit.
Been sometime since I had one of those... these.
A good day. Sometimes you just know a thing. Today is a good day.
About time.
Gather up your smiles and gratitude Ghos+, time to shine.
Hope you're feeling the same.
Most times it's a revelation, a new way to see your life.
Sometimes it's a physical thing, something in your environment changes.
Same circumstance so far. It's early as these entries often are.
Shouty Capped Early.
It's interesting to review older entries and themes in relation to the time of the post. What I was thinking on and when.
Knowing the words are public, the site's become more conversational. O/
I prefer it. Hope you do, too.
There's plenty of space for essays in other places.
Also, the instrument used to make the entry changes the subject's focus.
There's more practicality, more socially aware, material in keyboards.
Warm, creative descriptions and depictions of Abe, the sunrise, the moon, the personal, the days doings, lend themselves better to the pen.
I prefer the pen. There's a closeness a step or two away on a keyboard.
It's there, it's just the cold of the keys need cajoling to get to it.
As 'poet' is the job title, the words are best served, for me and by me, with a pen.
If I were writing a current event news article, or a beach read novel, I might lean towards the keyboard for the quickness there.
Thank you again for reading. It means the world to me.
Take care, calmly considerately do your best no matter your instrument, and have your better day.
+he Ghos+
Your Dog Has No Opposable Digits
2025.01.29
January 29, 2025
Good morning, that wonderful way.
Hi. O/
Thanks for being here.
On with the show.
When it's snowing in the middle of the night, when a rabbit runs by the window, when you're sleeping, when your dog isn't, when the door that leads to the rabbit is shut, when your dog has no opposable digits, when you do, when you wake to open the door to stop your hopping hoping to be let out dog into the snow-covered backyard, when you don't go back to sleep and decide to write the morning journal post for the day.
In case you wanted to know the time.
How's your day?
If you're on a continent that ends in 'America,' you're probably too asleep to answer that.
Presumption says you're good.
Glad to hear it.
The kind of snow that lands crystals on the Earth for the Moon to see before the jealous big brother Sun comes along to melt them.
Rain puddles reflect realistic.
Snow shines back crystalized moonlight.
Thanks bunny and bouncing Abe, I might have missed it otherwise.
...
How's your past?
Over that, yet?
About time.
You were better than that.
Still are.
Now, though, you have proof.
Our days make stories, and our stories don't like to waste time with stories we're better than.
Make your story serve your better story of your life better, take care, and have your better day.
+he Ghos+
The Sun Thinks You're Important
2025.01.28
January 28, 2025
Good morning, that wonderful way.
Up and at 'em.
O/ Your friendly Ghos+ to wish you a better day and plop a post on the blog.
On with the show.
...
Slow word rhythm this morning. What do the words want to say?
Obvious things.
Abe on the loveseat, deeper sleep than usual. Good dreams for the good friend.
The slow sunrise of winter taking its time.
Like the words.
How are your words? Easy to find?
Where do they stay before we say them? Memory hills? A great human server called History?
What else to write about but miracles?
Magic, perhaps?
Magic is what's undefined.
Easy to find with a sense of wonder.
Some of the best writing comes on a stubborn day of words.
The world hasn't said it yet and wants you to.
Like translating an ancient language, the sense of language shows, but what's it saying?
Words missed and missing.
We haven't changed much over the millennia. Better structures to live in, better ways to communicate.
What we want to tell each other remains the same.
About how our life, our particular experience of life, matters.
We have something to offer because we're here. Our life matters because we are matter. We have something to contribute because we share this space called Life.
We deserve recognition because we can be recognized.
The Sun thinks you're important enough to see.
That's enough proof for me.
Take care, recognize you're worth Life, and have your better day.
+he Ghos+
For What Might Be
2025.01.27
January 27, 2025
Good morning, that wonderful way.
O/ Hello, your friendly Ghos+ back to wish you a better day.
Hope all's well.
On with the show...
...
The world is a beautiful place; not optimistically, ideally, as is.
Adjust you eyes and look to the skies and you'll see it true.
It's our stories that get in the way, or lift us up.
Stick with the uplifting ones. They serve you better.
Be served better.
You can only ever get what you order, what you have the capacity to dream. You're only ever as good as the story you tell yourself you can be.
Tell yourself a better story, have a better day.
...
Real early here again, hours before sunrise.
I enjoy the easy peace of it.
Peace is always easy; it's in the definition. The stories put on us since youth get in the way.
What we were born into only defines us until we recognize it does.
When we update our understanding of Life we grow.
...
A poet? What is that?
There's plenty of answers to that question on this site. You might say this whole site is dedicated to showing you.
It's a way of thinking that paints a new picture of Life through a still life image of the sight, thought, and dream experience of a whole moment.
It's the experience of a whole story, movie, song in a few verses of geometrically intentional lines.
You have to know yourself well to be a poet, have to trust your great voice within, have to recognize how you hear Life's song in that voice.
You're a mirror song of moments for Life, so she can know herself better, and help us grow better from the experience of the words.
...
If AI can make it, it's not a poem; it's a catalog of poetry.
There's the image of a new dream of life held in compact words that pre-programmed intelligence can never create.
AI can only make what was and is possible, and not what never was possible.
Never what's new, always what's remembered, an expression, never a new value, always an old story matched with an old story to further what is, not create a space for what might be.
Life is a process of stacking dreams. If there are no new dreams, no new dreamers to dream them, even as healthy as a machine can make the machines of our bodies, it cannot further life itself.
Too much growth of the same makes jungles and swamps. Neither environment is healthy for human life to persist.
Urban AI proficient swamps create too much of the same to support what living truly is. Dreaming new dreams to create new experiences to feed new dreams.
This is how Art furthers Life and why it is so important.
Art creates new spaces to place Life to grow, new plots for our gardens of experience.
I do hope this journal, this tribute to the morning, grants you a new lens to view your life.
It's a record of someone whose sat with dreams, discovered their power to change one's life, and recorded the sights through the sound and shapes of language the best he could his whole life.
Hopefully they provide a peaceful, purposeful place for your dreams to grow.
Take care, dream a new dream, and have your better day.
+he Ghos+
A Thought Balloon
2025.01.26
January 26, 2025
Good morning, that wonderful way.
O/ Hello.
On with the show.
One of the markings on Abe's back looks like a thought balloon.
Wonder what it's thinking?
Translating fur is a hairy business.
Probably thankful for itself with the recent cold spell.
A self-satisfied dog's coat.
It's softer darker lately, too.
The black spots take over the white patches for warmth.
You notice small changes living this kind of life.
I lived a cliched hair on fire poet's life decades ago before illness monopolized my time and energy, so I know what's missed living like this.
I don't miss it.
Much.
There were more friends but less intimacy.
Focused concern wins over frenzied fun in the arena of quality of life.
The fun's funner, too.
The nature of the moments at hand and not spectacle take centerstage.
How we do what we do matters more than what we do because our actions themselves are in the result.
Our success can only ever be as successful as the manner in which we do the thing.
Greed only gains greed.
Pride of craftsmanship makes pride of ownership; a job well-done.
Good morning, again.
Hope you're well.
Take care, pay attention to yourself today, and have your better day.
+he Ghos+
Binary Blips for Breath
2025.01.25
January 25, 2025
Good morning, that wonderful way.
Good news!
It's +he Ghos+ back with another installment of Wonderful Ways!
How'd you sleep?
I'd ask Abe, but he's still eyes closed on the loveseat.
So he wouldn't know.
As you're reading this I know you are.
Hope your day finds you well.
On with the show...
...
The world is a beautiful place. We ought to comfortably tell each other more.
The Sun's coming up. How's he do that?
Spinning spheres around a table around himself?
A Greco-Roman chariot joyride across the sky?
We think the Greeks believed their myths scientifically, but they were only Marvel Superheroes in the sky; comic books for the Classical Age.
Only a few had the means to write them down. To be an Epic Poet was an honor, a duty and a lot of work.
These days you give a morning report and plop it on a blog on the same day.
Historically speaking we've got it pretty good artistically speaking.
Because Art is generosity.
We can share our expressions of the world easily with anyone with an internet connection.
Stories through pictures and words and music through the air. Binary blips where breath used to be.
We make friends and more with letters first, sculpture comes second, if at all.
Onto rows of prose.
Take care, make and send something new, and have your better day.
+he Ghos+
Not A Funny Grunt
2025.01.24
January 24, 2025
Good morning, that wonderful way.
O/ How's the day?
How's your sleep?
Dreams run so deep?
Good sleep here; wonderful medicine.
Thanks for reading.
Let's go.
There's words. There's the communication of words.
A word without a destination is a funny grunt.
Though I don't mind a good funny grunt now and then, I thank you, my dear reader extraordinaire, for the destination.
The cold spell broke, warmer days begin. The Sun starts to show up at a respectable time. Spring in his thoughts, green on his mind.
My thoughts are on medicine.
My health returns and so the helpfulness of the meds goes.
Like the Sun showing sooner a good signal life persists.
There's remission, then there's healing from all the side-effects from all the medicine over all the years spent getting there.
I'm just about through with it.
Personal stuff. It's a journal, after all.
Again, thank you for reading.
Hope good health has you.
If not take your medicine, say your prayers and congratulate yourself for recognizing how worth it life is that you continue to heal for the sake of better days.
Take care and have your better day.