Language
Words on language.
How Stories Shape Our World
No worries, it's not as dull academic as it sounds.
Thursday, February 05, 2026
Good morning, The Wonder Fell Way.
Something new and tried and true... The Sunrise.
And Wonder Fell. O/
Glad to be read by you.
On with our show...
...
Practical matters lately. Getting New-New Hampshire set for formal publication.
Colore is still in the works. No worries, Dear Reader, we won't leave Hope, and Finn, and Langston standing at the threshold much longer.
There's the site redesign and clean up.
...
Do you read Wonder Fell at night?
How ironic of you.
Having such a good relationship with irony, we're sure to be great friends.
Poet: Irony is in the job description.
Poets do write stories too, by the way.
When a poet writes a story it's called an Epic.
Wynn, The Poet, writes an Epic; it's called: Colore.
It's in the works. I post progress of it here and discussion of working on it here.
At present, the storyline is on pause to finish some world building.
One of the main differences between a poetical Epic story and the novels we're used to is the structure.
Poetry uses the form of the text to help shape its message.
No worries, it's not as dull academic as it sounds.
Dr. Seuss is an example of a poet using verse to help shape the story's message.
Colore is not a story for children, though there maybe a rhyme from time to time.
The poetic shape is that of characters experiencing mythic type stories and then juxtaposing the moral message of those events to happenings in the modern world: The Side-Stories.
The intent of Colore is to remind us how our stories shape our World.
It shows why The State of our Modern Press is our poison at present. It's a reminder of our responsibility to share better tales to see a better world.
We can only ever be as good as the dream we have of Ourselves.
Poets and Artists of all types shape ways to express what is possible to experience.
Our Arts and Entertainment industry in America right now is just as responsible for our Nation's divide as is The Press.
Where's Hope Hollywood?
Hope is in every story told well and every honest brushstroke of every Artist.
And so I write.
It takes words to heal Our Nation of Words.
Stories are always the best way to take that kind of medicine.
Popular music lyrics, as well, help give Hope.
Artists of America someone's got to be the adult in our Country's dividing room. My Vote is for The Arts to step up and heal Our troubled Nation.
Take care, if you're an Artist of any kind consider what hope you can share and where, then share it and make our wonderful day.
Wynn
Brought to you by the emoji of the day: 🥄spoon
Archaic Slab
For the Sake of Words
Keep in mind every time you utter, type, sing, or thumb-slap a word you're furthering or hindering humanity.
Tuesday, January 27, 2026
Good morning, The Wonder Fell Way.
We write the morning; we do the day.
We march one step and sip of our coffee or tea to see the words match our dreams.
Hope all's well Dear Reader. O/
...
For the sake of words... definitely the title.
What my work is about lately: The poetry of words.
A poem about words is like biting your own teeth.
But with all the babble on blaring around us, someone ought to point out the cause.
How we treat our words is how we value life.
A world without language is a monkey's mess.
Words, like people, are alive.
Language needs dreamers to keep it going. A word is never done, never dead.
Humanity evolves because its language does.
The link between evolution and language is a redundancy.
The only way to evolve is to grow our understanding.
That means to heal and expand our expressions.
And so I write.
Every morning.
Thanks for reading.
...
Keep in mind every time you utter, type, sing, or thumb-slap a word you're furthering or hindering humanity.
Your words really do matter that much.
Your language is the art you use to communicate yourself to the world.
Be clear. Be sincere. Your voice, written or said, is the masterpiece you share with life itself.
A lie told is a disingenuous brushstroke, a rookies mistake, a disservice to the painter as well as the viewer.
When you listen to and take your advice from falsehoods you follow a GPS app that gives bad directions.
You never get where you intend to go. You walk, drive, live around frustrated all your efforts do nothing more than get you more lost.
This is why my Country hasn't healed since the time of Covid. We're being fed lies for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. And too many are eating what's served as opposed to choosing something better.
The modern media machine in America, at present, is a GPS app that gives bad directions.
It's no longer enough to only refuse to watch and listen to the lies, we now must serve and share something better.
Consider Wonder Fell something better shared; a Poet stepping up.
As always thanks for being here, take care, share words of hope, and make wonderful this wonderful day.
Wynn
Brought to you by the emoji of the day: 🪕 banjo
Pic Prompt: Create a stick figure pen and ink drawing of a person reading on a hillside during a snowstorm at dawn.
Archaic Slab
Why Wonderfell?
Hell isn't other people; it's a world of hopeless stories.
Saturday, January 17, 2026
Good morning, The Wonder Fell Way.
Glad you're here. O/
"Do you ever feel like not showing up, like not writing, in the morning, Wynn?"
-Favorite Wonder Fell Reader
It's work. It's duty. It's doing what I love. It's doing what's right.
I fought for so long to be able to. Now, when I wake, I'm so grateful for the win, I just start.
And it is work.
My Country needs help. The people suffer and don't understand why.
We blame money, ego, greed, bigotry, racism, misogyny, and a lot of other words.
But the true reason is our language itself.
The true reason America suffers is in The Stories We Choose to Share and Digest.
Because what we watch and report is where we assert our value.
When we continuously showcase tragedy and call it News, we tell each other tragedy is worth our attention.
There are just as many good deeds, more I'd say, going on in America than tragedies.
This is not a call for naive optimism.
This is stating the fact that: What we feed grows.
We, as a Nation, have decades worth of feasting on tragedies.
And if the restaurant, The Media, wants to stay in business it has to serve what the people are eating.
Our stories chase ambulances instead of heroes. This is why our Country looks and feels the way it does at present.
We make showcasing Hell a profitable enterprise. People like to profit. They need profit to survive. And so we surround ourselves with Hell in an effort to just stay alive.
Good News is marketable. People love heroes more than nightmares.
Surely you'd rather watch a person rescue a cat over watching them shoot it in the head.
Don't say positive stories don't sell or you are the whole symptom and disease.
A story absent of hope isn't a story; it's an opinion.
Our News stories turned to News opinions a few decades ago. We're living in the consequences of a world feeding on stories devoid of hope.
Hell isn't other people; it's a world of hopeless stories.
Where's Hope?
In our storytellers who still recognize life is worth something good.
If the News is slow to remind us, our Artists need to be quick.
I write about An American Renaissance being a cure for our National malaise because hope has to flood the words we feed on soon if our Country is to survive.
We're better than the stories we're choosing to share.
Why Wonder Fell?
A guy from New England pulls away from society to write deliberately in his journal for a time to remind himself what's truly worth valuing in the World.
Over a hundred years ago Henry did the same. If there was no Walden, there was no 'Civil Disobedience,' and so no game plan for Gandhi or Martin Luther King.
Literature like Wonder Fell can matter that much.
It is my Hope it truly does.
Thank you for reading, for choosing hope over tragedy.
Take care and make wonderful this wonderful day.
Wynn
Brought to you by the emoji of the day: 🌐globe_with_meridians
Pic Prompt: Create a pen and ink stick figure image of a person sat by a lake writing in a journal at sunrise.
Archaic Slab
Your Dream and Your Voice
Being a poet, sooner or later, I ought to write about mush.
Thursday, January 15, 2026
Good morning, The Wonder Fell Way.
At it again. O/
Still a few hours till sunrise.
Being a poet, sooner or later, I ought to write about mush.
And misconception.
There's more to being a poet than the card aisle at The Pharmacy.
Though, a poem is medicine when you read it right.
Conciseness and clarity of language is the aim of every poet.
We make better and new ways to express what it is to be alive through words.
We're quality control for words themselves.
Always here to make certain we get as much out of our language as we intend to express.
Our worlds run on words. Poets expand what is possible for language to say.
And so, poets widen what is possible for us to share.
Our relationships are able to deepen because of the work I do.
We can know each other better.
...
Colore marches on. There's already a side-story posted this week.
The next main story verse introduces us to The New World our heroes find themselves in.
From the author's point of view, it's important certain details are set-up to ensure cohesion to the storyline that follows.
This is where the difference in story writer's methods becomes practical.
If you write a story by the seat of your pants, you do your plotting as you go.
A pantser's plot is called: Their First Draft.
As I'm writing Colore as 'live' a process as possible, and I post finished pieces of The Epic at least weekly, the dream of the story (the plot) has to be complete in my mind. There's no turning back once posted to edit.
This would be considered a job-hazard to most writers; I consider it fun.
And didactic.
It's a matter of trusting your dream and your voice.
This author's been dreaming and writing (though never sought publication) everyday for nearly three decades.
Humbly, Colore is in competent hands.
I wouldn't attempt it if I thought otherwise. The message is too important.
There are a lot of things America's been saying about a lot of things in the same ways for a long time. (Hint: The Epic's Name)
Time to upgrade our language about how we talk about some very serious concerns.
Poet's work.
And so I write.
Take care, know your work (and worth), and make wonderful this wonderful day.
Wynn
Brought to you by the emoji of the day: 🪭folding_hand_fan
Pic Prompt: Create a stick figure pen and ink image of a person standing in the card aisle in a Pharmacy.
Archaic Slab
And So I Write
2026.01.04
Sunday, January 04, 2026
Good morning, The Wonderfell Way.
Welcome to the show. O/
Midnight changes the calendar, though most of us sleep at least six more hours before we wake.
What's up with that?
Another incredibly early morning here. It's still yesterday on the West Coast. Greetings from tomorrow, California. O/
So far, so good.
So many sunrises in a row now on Wonder Fell. Hundreds.
Thanks for sharing some with me.
...
It's interesting in its intimacy, this act of journal sharing.
How words shape and build identity show well here.
How each sentence says so much about the writer is worth our wonder.
Respect and reverence for the written word, for language at all, is what this site is all about.
Neglecting to remember the power words have to shape our lives is the cause of everything we see, and hear, and call so much of the News these days.
You see, Dear Reader, this is poet's work. More than the Hallmark Card love letter melancholy business so commonly put on us; we're guardians of words themselves.
I blame America's youth, not our young generations; our civilization's age.
We've only been around a couple hundred years. Our start was a turning away from so much else.
We have no Chaucers, no Miltons, no Homers that aren't yellow. Poets like these shaped civilizations with their testaments to morality.
And so I write.
I write my best to remind us of our best so we can, again, show what's best about ourselves to each other.
It takes story, it takes myth, it takes lyrical language to do that.
Our popular musicians, at times, do their best to remind us the value of Life. But a pop song can only do so much.
Different types of Art are different types of medicine.
A popular song heard by the right person at the right time changes that person's life.
Poetry, specifically Lyrical and Epic Poetry, is medicine for Civilizations.
And so I write.
Humbly, consistently, a voice every morning to remind us Life is still worth wonder. Our dreams still matter.
How we treat each other still defines our value more than any bank account can ever say.
Our words, more precisely our stories and Art, must begin to emphasize this point if our civilization is to endure.
It's time for us Artists to be the grown-ups, take the reigns, and lead.
We are so much better than how we've been treating and talking about ourselves lately.
Most of humanity has a camera, a speaker, a monitor on them at all times these days.
Our phones are connected to The World.
Artists! Let's flood phones with Art, with music, with stories and purge our so called News.
People! There are better things to look at and listen to than what passes for News.
Choose your favorite genre of music for your radio station choice over the channel with the people getting paid to make you angry.
The woman singing her heart out so you can have a better day deserves your attention more. She most certainly is of more lasting value and increases rather than takes away from your quality of life.
When Art takes over a culture it's called a Renaissance. America is long overdue one.
The reality of an American Renaissance is the only way we can bring lasting positive change.
Our understanding of our stories is broken. This requires new stories, art, and music to heal.
There's much to say on this topic. It's part of the point and purpose of Colore to address it directly.
And so I write.
As always, thank you for reading, take care, and make wonderful this wonderful day.
Wynn
+he Ghos+
Brought to you by the emoji of the day: 👋wave
Same Prompt🤔: Create a stick figure pen and ink illustration of an open book on a table on a hillside at dawn.
Archaic Slab
The Kind of Work I Do
2025.12.28
Sunday, December 28, 2025
Good morning, The Wonder Fell Way.
"What a thing to do... write each day at dawn this Epic Letter Poem."
-Interested Reader
"Well, I was here anyhow and it's rude not to include you."
-Friendly Poet Including You
Thanks for reading.
...
It's amazing; we rarely consider it. Give it a thought or two... what happens when we read.
What these symbols called letters do ought to fill us all with wonder.
Here we are having a conversation of sorts.
And though, we've not met in person, though there's no pictures or videos of me here, I can wave to you. O/
And though, you don't see my humbly handsome self greeting you, you do recognize me somehow.
So who are you reading while you read Wynn?
That's the true reason for +he Ghos+ avatar... to make that point.
It only takes a couple hundred words, maybe a poem or two, perhaps a look at Colore; to see there's no way I'm AI.
The rhythm and context of my words are my own.
What we are transcends algorithms.
All that Life is cannot fit in a line of computer code because it requires what's alive to make it.
There's something more than human about being alive.
Yes, I'm talking about spirit, about dreams, about what happens while you read, about how you know me. O/
We are our dreams and what we choose to do with them.
It's important we remember as AI establishes itself in our lives the reasons why we are irreplaceable. It comes down to our relationship with dreams.
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At times Wonder Fell appears to delve into deep thought metaphysics, but these ideas are soon obligatory for us to understand what living is about as AI makes more and more of what we defined necessary obsolete.
If you think a robot version of you would do a better job at being you, then you better reassess your definition of what it means to be human.
Being human is about what we choose to do with our dreams and whatever the heck Love is all about.
Beauty, Joy, Wonder... the realms and work of The Poet. We've been quieted and misunderstood in my Country... overlooked by default.
Our current National state of affairs owes itself to the neglect of the kind of work I do.
What good is freedom without a basic recognition of Life's intrinsic values?
Poets, not price tags, define value.
You don't want a new car, house, jewelry, or more money. You want the experience of having them.
Poets paint experience in words, so we can better understand how to best express our lives.
What constitutes a good life remains regardless the time, but the stuff of our lives, the toys and tools, change.
Those toys and tools are sleeping metaphors waiting for Poets and Artists alike to show the morality of, to show how they fit, how they best serve a wonderful and good life.
This poet O/, at present, is tackling AI and Identity in this Internet Age.
A daily journal, with no bio or pics, is the best genre to do so.
Thanks for reading.
...
Our Science and Our Politics are out of sync. Our stories don't serve us well-enough. It's why we're falling apart.
An Epic Saga is the best Poet's Genre to show this.
Enter Colore.
Wish me well while I return to writing it for us.
As always, thank you for your time and consideration, take care and make wonderful this wonderful day.
Wynn
+he Ghos+
Brought to you by the emoji of the day: 💬speech_balloon
Same Prompt🤔: Create an image of a ghost writing in an ancient library dressed as a poet in the style of a magical line drawing sketch.
Image courtesy of Grok Imagine, A Few Line Drawing Artists, and +he Ghos+, December 2025
Archaic Slab
Poets Are to Blame
2025.12.18
Thursday, December 18, 2025
Good morning, The Wonder Fell Way.
Peace. Think of doves.
Some metaphors last.
There's nothing more peaceful about a dove than there is about a pigeon.
What's up with that?
Our stories and poets are to blame.
O/
People like me are the reason a dove signals peace for you.
An owl is wise because of the work I do.
I'm working on widening our understanding and making a new place for dragons in our cultural mythology right now.
Our stories of what it means to be alive aren't serving us as well as they used to.
We need a rebirth of wonder, a cultural Renaissance, if we're to survive.
People's spirits are down. 'Whatevers' roll eyes and fill the air.
But life is worth more than Whatevers. It's worth 'What Could Be's,' too.
A thing called Hope, the reason for every story, The Great Destroyer of The Whatevers.
Our stories don't serve us as well as they could. So many write these days, do so much these days, just to make money.
The problem with money as a reason to do anything is: It's amoral. It's neither right or wrong.
But money isn't worth a dime without human interaction.
So what we're actually valuing when we say we value money is the ability for more positive human interactions.
Not nicer things, better relationships.
There are too many miserable millionaires in the world for money to be an answer in and of itself.
It's our stories, what we tell our children, what we tell ourselves.
I bring up Science often on the site, and I'm grateful for it. What a great tool.
But Science leaves out morality, so the umbrella isn't big enough to sustain joyful living.
If our culture is to heal it comes down to us Artists. We have to grow our stories, images, and songs to match our moral needs.
How we treat each other matters. At the end of a day, and a life, it's actually the only thing that does.
Sun's up. Powder blue sky over an orange pink ribbon horizon, pencil scratch marks make the silhouettes of trees.
Take care, consider your stories, and make wonderful this wonderful day.
Wynn
+he Ghos+
Brought to you by the emoji of the day: 🍞bread
Same Prompt🤔: Create an image of a dove, an owl, and a dragon all wearing bowties sat reading books in an enchanted forest at dawn in the style of a magical cubist illustration.
Image courtesy of Grok Imagine, Some Cubists, and +he Ghos+, December 2025
Archaic Slab
The Finest Magic in the Land
2025.12.15
Monday, December 15, 2025
Good morning, The Wonder Fell Way.
All set.
Your day that is.
The finest magic in the Land was used while you slept to arrange an exceptional day for you.
"All set," chimes your alarm clock.
Or...
"Ring! Clang! Buzz! Bang! Time to get your expletive rear up and out of bed! There's work to be done!"
It's your sunrise, too. Frame it as you like.
Hint: The first way works when you expand your definition of magic.
Place laughter, joy, friendship, and goodwill in your cup called magic and go with the first choice.
...
Sometimes sunrise starts like a blue-light night-light in a college dorm room.
Like this morning.
Philosophy, daydreams, to-dos; the power of story.
You.
Topics for discussion on Wonder Fell.
Discussion of the kind that happens in your head as you read.
My dreams and yours go out for a spin while you read here.
Thanks for the dance and the chance to say: O/
More than our understanding, more than the rhythm and cadence of words; something occurs while we read.
Einstein's notes read differently than Newton's for reasons more than Science can say.
We shy away from talking about spirit because we believe our instruments can't measure it.
But: O/
Thanks for reading.
As lovers of reading know, there's a whole lot more going on with reading than words can ever say.
Take care and make wonderful this wonderful day.
Wynn
+he Ghos+
Brought to you by the emoji of the day: ☄️comet
Same Prompt🤔: Create an image of an alarm clock wearing a bowtie on a table in an enchanted forest at sunrise in the style of a magical impressionist painting using a blue color palette.
Image courtesy of Grok Imagine, Some Impressionists, and +he Ghos+, December 2025
Archaic Slab